Trapped (Part One)

He heard her coming the instant she stepped off the elevator; the loud, sharp clicks of her high heels hitting the linoleum with every incensed step she took. And oh boy was Betsy mad.

She briskly strode into Marty's office, practically slamming the door behind her. "Have you lost your mind?" Marty looked up at her, calmly, leaning back in his chair. He knew what she was pissed about and had been expecting her arrival. "You ordered for everyone on the floor to be given an MRI and a CT Scan. What, pray tell, convinced you to do this?"

Marty simply picked up his phone, pressed a few buttons and put in on speaker phone. Betsy paused, not knowing what he was up to. Suddenly a robotic like voice could be heard, indicating he had called his voicemail.

"What are you…" Betsy paused once again as Marty held up his hand to stop her.

One message. Wednesday November 21st at 9:36pm.

"…expect me to say Lois?" Betsy's voice came through the phone, eliciting a gasp from Betsy.

"The truth. He deserves to know the truth." Betsy went to talk once again, but the look in Marty's eyes as he stared at her stopped her in her tracks for the third time.

"I don't know if I can give him the truth."

"What is the truth Betsy?"

"I love him…"

With that, Marty ended the call, cutting off the rest of the conversation. He knew that Betsy had not meant for him to hear that conversation and that she must have accidentally dialed him while her phone was in her jacket pocket, but he needed to know that she meant what she told Lois. He needed to hear her say it in person.

"Marty I…" Betsy started to say, but then cut herself off. She didn't know what to say or do with herself.

"Did you mean it?" Marty enquired quietly. Never one for talking about emotions, Dr. Marty Isaacs didn't know how to approach this. Although he knew he needed to hear her say it, he wouldn't admit to himself that it was because he loved her too. The whole concept of love when it involved himself seemed so foreign.

"I don't know." Betsy spoke quietly back.

Marty's gaze snapped up to hers and his eyes narrowed. Standing up, he shuffled around to the front of the desk, where she stood facing him. "What do you mean you don't know?" His voice had suddenly taken an edge to it and it startled Betsy.

"I just… it was late and I had a few drinks… I didn't know what I was saying." Betsy babbled, knowing each word was a lie.

"No." Marty shook his head, stepping closer to her. Betsy was not about to brush this off as a drunken lie. "I don't believe you."

"Fine then don't. But, it's the truth." Betsy defended herself, failing to notice that with each advance he took towards her, she took a step backward.

"I said no." Marty growled at her. Betsy gasped as she suddenly felt the glass wall of his office at her back.

"Marty that's enough. I have work to do…" Betsy went to turn and leave, but his hands shot out and pushed her hips against the wall. Betsy's eyes went wide as she scanned the hallways to make sure no one could see them. "This is inappropriate let me go!" Betsy hissed at Marty, pushing her palms against his chest.

Her heart was beating rapidly and the closeness of his body was making her stomach do flips.

Letting go of her hips, Marty grabbed her hands, pressing them against the wall, one to each side of her head. Leaning forward, he whispered hotly in her ear. "What's inappropriate is you confessing your love for me to Harper and then denying it." Betsy tried to intervene and say that she didn't love him, but Marty pressed tighter against her. "What's even more inappropriate is you coming in here, day after day, wearing these sinful wears and flaunting your delicious body around in front of me. Teasing me."

Betsy squirmed, not wanting to hear anymore. She was his boss for God's sake. He should not have her pushed against his office wall in the middle of the day for all and sundry to see. No scratch that, he should never have her in this position no matter where or when. "Marty stop this."

"No Betsy you stop this." Marty demanded. "Tell me to stop. Tell me you don't want this. That I don't make that lithe body of yours hot. That even though your brain is yelling at you to stop because of all the protocols and rules, you want this. Your body is yearning for this." Marty stepped once again closer, every inch of his body pressed to hers, trapping her to the wall. Nipping her bottom ear lobe once he whispered culpably, "Tell me you don't love me."

He didn't wait for her answer and reaching for the cord, snapped the blinds closed in his office, and slamming his lips on hers. Letting her hands fall, he grabbed her waist possessively, crushing her against him as his lips devoured hers. Betsy tried to deny it, tried to deny him, but the moment his tongue slipped into her mouth she knew she couldn't anymore.