Chapter 11: Coffee

Warren moved slowly, methodically, as he kissed a trail up her neck, across her cheek, and finally landed on Brooklyn's lips. His hands were in motion as well, caressing along her body, wondering what she felt like beneath her clothes.

How was it, he wondered, that just this morning everything had seemed so fuzzy and now was so very clear? It was Brooklyn, he decided. Beautiful, understanding, kind Brooklyn. She was his everything now, she had always been.

He set his hand on her bed, intending to lift himself up so he could pull his shirt off, when his hand hit something hard.

He pulled back for a moment to grab the offending object.

“Oh, no!” Brooklyn made a grab for the book but Warren moved it just out of her reach.

“Halitja: The Guardian Mythic?” He read out loud, a small smile on his face.

“J-just a little...research.” Brooklyn said weakly. How, she asked herself, had she forgotten that the book was on her bed? Because Warren had been keeping her thoroughly distracted, she decided as he laughed good naturedly.

“You're amazing.” he said, putting the book on the bedside table as he went back to kissing her, a smile on his face.

Of course she was reading up on him, he thought as his hand found its way under her shirt, it was so like her.

Brooklyn's muscles jumped when Warren's hand began caressing up her back. His touch was warm but unexpected and extremely intimate even as all he did was run his hand up and back down again. Warren had this ability, she took in a deep shuddering breath as his tongue began caressing her lips, to make even the smallest of touches feel overwhelmingly seductive.

She didn't even notice, until it was open, that he had begun unbuttoning her shirt.

She was shaking, she realized belatedly, her hands grasping his broad shoulders as he sat back, pulling them both up vertically.

There was still a heady amount of feminine power coursing through her veins, especially as it seemed like Warren was unable to keep his mouth, his hands, from touching any part of her he could reach. Yet it was tempered by the fact that she still felt so incredibly awkward. She knew if she tried to speak, all she would be able to do was stutter and her great mind was completely unable to come up with a single coherent thought.

But she didn't have to worry about trying to do anything. Warren was moving forward, pulling her along gently, as he slipped her shirt from her torso and threw it away. He was quite happy to take the lead, to make her tremble as his gently trailing fingers moved slowly up her back. He enjoying having her shake in his arms as her hands fumbled, trying to figure out what he wanted her to do.

Wanting only to make her happy, he took her hands in his and began moving them along the hard planes of his chest, letting her feel his body as much as she desired. Using her fingers, he grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head.

He grinned in masculine pride when he saw her passion fogged eyes, her freshly kissed lips open just a bit inviting him in, and her chest rising and falling quickly with each breath as his body was exposed to her view.

He returned her hands to his body, moving them along every line and ridge he possessed, and couldn't stop his own ego from inflating when he heard her moan just a bit at the feeling of each sculpted muscle.

When he began to feel her hands moving without his guidance, understanding that she was free to touch whatever she pleased, he released his grasp on her hands and reached for her again.

She was soft, he thought it wonder. Her curves were understated and all the more alluring because of it and her skin felt like silk and cream. She didn't wear heavy perfume, instead all he could smell was the very faint hint of her soap, peaches, and her own unique scent. He let his hands travel around her, and he unhooked her bra with a quick flick of his wrist then that, too, was discarded.

For a few minutes, they entertained themselves just by touching each other. Sunlight streamed into the room, making the moment all the more magical with its sweet light. The only sound was their breathing and the occasional moan of pleasure as they discovered the places on their lovers bodies that made the ecstasy climb ever higher.

It wasn't perverted, it was somehow pure; it wasn't lustful, it was loving.

It was like nothing Brooklyn had ever experienced before.

No one had ever taken the time to treat her so, like she was special and precious. Her heart quivered with each sweet caress, her soul sung with each feather light kiss.

He would have kept going, she knew, if she let him. He would be content to touch her like that, to stroke and embrace her for as long as she let him.

But she stopped him after a few minutes. She loved every moment of what he did to her and, like a greedy child, she wanted more.

The sweet spell he had woven was gloriously broken when she reached for the waistband of his pants.

She easily could have let him continue doing nothing but petting her, petting him in turn, but there was more pleasures to be had and she wanted to experience those as well.

Warren smiled into their kiss when he felt her hands, no longer shy and uncertain, pulling at the button of his jeans. Following her lead, he reached for the zipper on her skirt, having already noted its location when he had been exploring her body.

Their movements weren't fast, they were slow and careful and each touch brought a new wave of bliss, every kiss seemed to bring them closer together even when they were already pressed so tightly against each other it seemed they would never separate. Warren put his hands through her hair again, letting the silky strands slip through his fingers, Brooklyn ran her hands up his back, enjoying the valleys and contours of the flat expanse of flesh.

It took a while as they kept getting distracted by new, unexplored areas of their mates, but finally they were nude before each other, grasping and gasping at each new sensation. Still, there was no hurry, no rush. Their movements stayed easy, almost languid.

Warren kissed his way down then back up her arm, taking his time and exploring the sensitive junction at her elbow.

Brooklyn swept her tongue across his neck, his collar, taking joy in how each little stroke caused him to shiver, just a bit, at the sweet intimacy.

When Warren finally entered her, after what seemed like a year, a magnificent, glorious year, Brooklyn came apart immediately in his hands, stuttering out his name. Her own peak caused his and Warren kissed her lips again as waves of sweet ecstasy coursed uncontrolled through their bodies.

They fell together, loose and sated, flat onto her bed, still riding the unimaginable high.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Brooklyn was playing with his hand. She was running her fingers up and down his, tracing each line of his palms, enjoying the way his muscles moved as he turned and flexed the hand for her enjoyment.

They had been laying in bed for the greater part of the day, still enjoying each others bodies and making love whenever the mood came over them. It wasn't until after the second time that Brooklyn remembered, wondering how it was Warren could make her forget everything, birth control.

He told her of Dr. Lester's findings on fertility ratings between haltijas and humans and not to worry but they had been careful since.

The sun was going down now, casting a soft orange and red glow on Brooklyn's cottage and making them feel as if the entire world had disappeared leaving just them, just this, and, for the moment, they wanted nothing more.

Their legs were tangled together under a white sheet Warren had thrown over them, Brooklyn would trail her dainty foot up his legs every now and then while Warren stroked the gently hills of her hips and breasts. It wasn't an overly sexual movement, they simply didn't want to stop touching one another.

Just now, Brooklyn had begun playing with his free hand and he was content to let her. Especially since doing so brought such an easy joy to her. Her joy, he knew, was one of his top priorities, probably right behind her safety.

She looked up at him, small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were clear now, filled with delight and a barely sated hunger for pleasure that Warren knew would be back soon. Her hair was really mussed now, falling over his chest and even just the feeling of the strands gently moving as her head did was enough to tease and titillate him. He found himself wanting, strangely, to see her put her conservative skirt suit back on again; pull her hair up, even put her glasses on. Just so, he could admit to himself, he could peel each layer off again and reduce her to the same purring, sexy woman he had in his arms now.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“You. Of course.” Warren said immediately and was pleased to see her cheeks tint pink a bit.

“Liar.” she accused but she was smiling taking any heat from the word.

“I'm always thinking of you.” Warren told her honestly. How is it the words didn't make him sound idiotic or even like he was saying them because he was supposed to with no real truth behind them? The words felt so right and, he knew when she snuggled in closer, beaming up at him, that she believed him. “I'm ready to tell you know. Honestly.”

Brooklyn's head tilted, unsure of what he was referring to for a moment. Then it clicked and she settled in again. “Alright.” There was no caution in the word, just her accepting to hear what he had long been trying to figure out how to say.

For just a second, Warren found himself wondering how he was going to say it without making it lame. How were words like this conveyed without sounding stiff or, worse, rehearsed. Such a thing had been said so many times before, how could he possibly make it sound any better, any more real?

Because this was Brooklyn, he told himself immediately. The words weren't trite and cliché, they were timeless, eternal. They were simple and, just as she was, all the more powerful because of it. They had only ever felt forced before because, before Brooklyn, he had never truly meant them. They had sounded strange when he tried to find a way to voice them before, because he had been trying to complicated this incredibly simple, still amazingly complex, thing that he felt.

“I love you.” he said at last.

Brooklyn's mouth fell, just a bit, as that was not what she had been expecting him to say.

The words rang in the room, somehow fitting into the air, into the atmosphere, as if they belonged there. And, with a triumphant laugh, Warren realized they did.

He saw Brooklyn's face draw a bit in confusion at his laugh.

So he laughed again and squeezed her close and, just because he wanted to say it again, he said louder. “I love you, Brooklyn. Sweet, perfect, precious Brooklyn. With everything I am, I love you. I love you.”

Brooklyn held him back, almost clang to him, because he was Warren. Steady and strong Warren and she needed that steadiness for just a moment.

She wondered why they called it falling in love. Sure, it felt as if she tumbled off a cliff.

But she wasn't falling. She was flying! She was soaring and each word Warren declared only made her feel as if she were climbing higher.

“Oh, Warren...” she very nearly stuttered.

Suddenly, his lips were by her ear and he was whispering, “I love you. Brooklyn, I love you.”

Brooklyn felt her eyes tearing up, the power in the words all the more apparent as they were stated so softly, with such assurance.

She leaned back, taking his face in her hands, and swept her gaze over him. His eyes were shinning, his mouth beaming, and he was watching her. Not like he was expecting her to say it back, she realized. He just enjoyed looking at her.

Warren's heart felt so light, so free now that he had finally voiced the words. Words that had been true from the moment he saw her. It wasn't just his vaki that pulled him to her, he knew the difference. His vaki felt like duty, a need to protect. It wasn't the same as this feeling of pure affection, infinite joy, unbreakable devotion.

Just as he found himself about to say it again, he just enjoyed saying it to her, he saw a single tear fall suddenly down her face.

And he panicked.

Had he said something wrong, he wondered as his face fell quickly. Did she not believe him? Why was she sad?

Just as he was about to apologize, to grovel and repeat himself again until she believed him, she said something. It was so quiet, almost a mumble, and Warren didn't quite hear.

“What?” he asked, trying to pull her in again, to rock her and caress her and love her until the tears stopped.

“I-I love y-you....” she repeated another tear falling. “Warren, I l-love you, t-too.”

The words hung between them again. They weren't heavy, just as before they fit into their lives as if they had always belonged there.

Then Brooklyn smiled, another tear fell, as she discovered the very same joy he had just found in being able to say the words. “I love you.” she repeated louder, more sure of herself.

They were tears of happiness, Warren realized.

He started laughing again. It wasn't funny. It was just...happy.

He had never been so happy.

Warren pulled her close, held her tight, and laughed from the euphoria that was coursing through his veins like a drug.

XXXXXXXXXXX

“You got laid last night.” Crispin signed almost as soon as Warren walked into Lester's office.

“Huh?” Warren blinked and had to think to translate what Crispin signed. “How did you know?”

“Hello, Warren!” Lester waved jovially from his desk, not having seen Crispin's signs. “Good timing. I was just looking for something. Since you've been destroying my office, I figured you might know where it is.”

“Destroying?” Warren repeated incredulously.

“You're late.” Crispin explained. “And you've got a stupid grin on your face.”

“Yes.” Lester nodded. “It's a paper I wrote, I'm sure it's in here somewhere. I need some information I have in it. Also, I have coffee.” he pointed to three styrofoam cups in a cardboard holder on the corner of the desk.

“Brook is also late. I know this because I stopped at her office before I came over here. Two plus two equals sex.” Crispin grinned good naturedly as he signed.

“I didn't buy it, of course.” Lester said, picking up a cup and taking a sip. “My new assistant did. His name is Carter, Victor hired him for me. Nice boy, reports right to Victor for some reason. Very bossy as well. Coffee is good though.”

“Hey, hey.” Warren held up his hands to stop their words as his gaze darted between them like he was watching a tennis match. “One at a time, alright. I can't read and listen at the same time.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Lester asked, surprised, oblivious to Crispin having signed anything at all while Crispin smiled, his hands clasped innocently behind his back.

“Never mind.” Warren said rather than explain anything to the doctor who was already moving on.

“Would you like some cream, some sugar, in your coffee?” he asked, picking up another cup. “Crispin, you can have this last one though I'm sure it's for Brook. She wont mind though, especially if she doesn't know, eh?”

“I'm fine. Thank you.” Crispin declined politely.

“A little cream would be great.” Warren said, not willing to turn down free coffee. Especially since, if he did his math right, this would be his last day sorting through Lester's mess. He only had a few more piles left to sort, nothing else of interest had turned up, and in three days he, Brooklyn, and Mr. Ozera would be on their way to Washington to continue the inspection with Mrs. Cohen.

As Lester turned to add the requested cream, Warren looked at Crispin.

“And can you not just go around saying that?” he said. “I don't want to embarrass Brook.”

“I've never told a secret in my life.” Crispin said mischievously earning a dull glare from Warren that made him chuckle silently. “My lips are sealed.”

“You're not funny.” Warren told him, his lips starting to grin despite himself.

“Any new messages for Jack?” Crispin asked, changing the subject.

“Nothing new since yesterday.” Warren shrugged. He hadn't seen Crispin since the morning before so he wasn't surprised to see him now, first thing in the morning. “Anything interesting happen with...anyone else?”

“Joe and Kai haven't found anything yet.” Crispin signed. Warren knew Jack was keeping Joe and Kai's presence secret from anyone except the four of them in order to keep any whispers from reaching their enemies, so he didn't say their names aloud but Crispin could especially since Lester's back was turned. “The last pieces are being shipped now though, so all hope isn't lost yet.”

Warren wanted to ask if Jack found anything interesting about the article that he sent him on demis but he couldn't figure out how to word it without alerting Lester to what he had done. He was half afraid that the paper Lester had come looking for was that one and, if the old man had forgotten why he was here in the first place, he didn't want to remind him.

“Here, my friend.” Lester said, holding out the coffee. “Drink it while it's hot.”

“Thanks, Lester.” Warren took the cup with a smile. “Brook says your lab should be fully cleaned by tomorrow and you can get back to work.”

“Wonderful, wonderful.” Lester clapped eagerly. “I've been so bored with all my equipment being confiscated. I've felt like a child that's been grounded.”

“Keep a better eye on your people then.” Warren told him sternly. “It's costing a fortune to clean everything, Mr. Ozera wont be happy to have to do it again.”

“I've already received this lecture from Brook.” Lester said unhappily. “Carter has already talked about instituting some new regulations and rules to keep everyone in line. If I didn't know better I would think he was my boss instead of my assistant.”

“Maybe he's just very eager to do his job well.” Crispin suggested gently. “And you don't like doing the administrative side of being a head, why not let him do it?”

Lester's face cleared and he smiled brightly. “You're right. Excellent idea that. I'll just have to make sure Victor doesn't find out, you know?” he guffawed and winked at Crispin as if they were sharing a great secret. Crispin just continued to smile and Warren tried not to laugh.

It seemed, he thought with a grin, that the siren didn't need his voice to manipulate others.

He raised his cup to take a drink but Crispin's next question halted him.

“Where is Brook, anyway?”

“She went to check on the cleaners.” Warren lowered the cup as he smiled at the memory of their day together. He had no doubt that a girl like Brooklyn would want marriage and kids and a white picket fence; the whole traditional marriage package. He was more than willing to give that to her. “Then she has a few employees left to question before we leave. She'll probably be busy for the next few days.”

“The grin is back.” Crispin pointed out mischievously.

“I should probably go check on them as well.” Lester said thoughtfully. “I want to make sure they aren't ruining the system we have in place.”