Chapter 12: Recovery

“I still don't think you should be moving around so soon.” Brooklyn told Warren, watching him carefully.

“I'm fine.” Warren repeated for the thousandth time, leaning back comfortably in the airline seat with a small smile on his face. He had never traveled in first class before but Victor assured him that any assistants and bodyguards of his were entitled to such luxuries. Their boss was sitting a few rows up, sipping on champagne as they waited for the plane to finish boarding so they could take off.

Warren had spent the night two days ago in the hospital, recovering from the alcohol that Dr. Fontane had spiked his coffee with. The day after that, he had spent most of it in his home enjoying a day off Jack had insisted he take.

And ever since she had come bursting into the ER with all the fury and beauty of an avenging angel, Brooklyn had hovered and fussed.

And Warren would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying every bit of it.

He had already been sitting in a bed in the ER, his right arm hooked up to an IV while a doctor monitored him to be sure that the vodka that Dr. Fontane had poured into his coffee along with the cream hadn't done any lasting damage when he first heard her.

Jack had been just around the corner, out of sight because of the privacy curtain that had only been partially drawn, speaking to his doctor. Warren had been thinking about how lucky he was that his boss cared enough to see personally to the health of his people. He might even feel guilty about the fact that Brooklyn was his vaki now instead of MCRC except that he couldn't regret a thing about Brooklyn.

In fact, Jack's anger was matched only by Brooklyn's. She had stormed into the ER, her face flushed with anger but each of her movements careful. She had spoken softly to the doctor, asked about his condition, his recovery time, any special actions or medicines he would have to take. Once she had received enough answers from him to satisfy her she had looked at Jack.

And in that one look Warren had read a lecture so scathing and demanding he was glad he wasn't on the receiving end of it.

“I've got it under control.” Jack promised her simply, clasping her shoulder reassuringly.

Brooklyn had said nothing but, instead, took it upon herself to deal with all of Warren's paperwork as well as transporting him back home.

Mr. Ozera, who had been stuck at home with a workload too big to excuse himself from for long, had called to assure Warren that Lester would be punished sufficiently.

“That man has all the control of a centaur at the end of mating season.” he had said exasperatedly. “I'll see to it that he is reprimanded properly.”

At that point Brooklyn, who had been listening to the phone call while she tucked Warren into his bed, had snatched the phone from his ear and took it out of his room. All Warren had heard was “I expect you to do more than simply reprimand him, Victor. Warren could have been killed by Dr. Fontane's deliberately malicious and outright illegal behavior. I expect-” at that moment the door had closed and Warren hadn't heard any more.

Crispin, who had been the one who called 911 and saved Warren's life, had sent him a text that morning before Warren left with Brooklyn for the airport that she had lectured Dr. Fontane herself as soon as Jack had finished with him. He had promised that it had been a truly magnificent sight, there had been spectators and, if Warren gave it a few days, videos of the event would start circulating around the complex.

The doctor was under constant supervision by Carter who Mr. Ozera told Dr. Fontane would be his caretaker to make sure the doctor didn't jeopardize anything else. Jack had grounded Dr. Fontane from having access to Crispin's voice which didn't seem like much to Warren until Crispin assured him that the doctor was more upset about that then being demoted from head of his department. A demotion that, Crispin told him, had been ordered by Brooklyn herself. Jack, who never let his people down, had stood behind Brooklyn until Mr. Ozera agreed to demote Dr. Fontane to vice head giving Carter the head position.

Mr. Ozera's punishment was deserved and, Warren felt, long overdue. Jack's punishment was specially tailored to hurt the offender the most and Warren thought it was hilarious. But Brooklyn's demand, using her unwritten power as a quasi-head to influence Mr. Ozera, had been one of revenge for a harmed loved one and Warren was more in love with her than ever.

She had left his side for only small stretches of time since she had joined him in the hospital. His stay there, his return home, and the day he had spent recuperating had been seamless and comfortable because Brooklyn had been taking care of him. Truthfully, Warren had felt fine when he had been discharged but there was a special joy in letting the woman you loved fuss over you and he had been shamelessly reveling in it.

It didn't bother him at all every time she inquired about his health. He found it enjoyable to see her worrying about whether or not he should still be going to Washington. And every time she spoke of the doctor and called him 'Dr. Fontane' instead of the less formal and more friendly 'Lester' that she usually addressed him as made him wonder just how much she disliked Dr. Fontane after his little experiment. And knowing that it was for him she disliked him now made him more pleased than he really should have felt.

The little experiment, Warren had been told by Crispin, Jack destroyed the notes for much to Dr. Fontane's dismay and displeasure. As Crispin told it, 'He's so mad he's cussing Jack out while Jack burns the notes. But he won't move against Jack because he knows he won't win.' It was Warren's favorite quote of the textual play-by-play he had been reading on his phone as Crispin watched it happen the day before.

After the day of rest, ordered by both Jack and Brooklyn, Warren felt more than ready to go back to work.

“Jack doesn't think this has anything to do with Intrebari.” Brooklyn had told him on the drive to the airport. “He says this was just Dr. Fontane being his normal, ridiculous self.”

“I guess it would be too easy if it were the doctor, just like that.” Warren had shrugged. He was already focusing on the unpleasant Mrs. Cohen. MCRC may no longer be his vaki, but he was still an employee and he still had a job to do.

He had told Jack already about the change in his vaki. Jack had told him that he couldn't pull him out of his assignment and he just had to finish what he had started. After this, though, he would have reconsider Warren's place and responsibilities.

“As long as Brooklyn stays in the library and out of danger, I can probably still work just as I always have.” he had told him.

“We'll see what happens and how you do on the rest of this assignment.” Jack had countered logically.

So Warren found himself riding on a plane to Washington getting ready to continue his and Brooklyn's inspections. And he knew, because she had told him, that Brooklyn wasn't eager to see the esteemed Mrs. Cohen again so soon. She was great at her job, but she was a horrible person and Brooklyn enjoying only having to see her four times a year. Mrs. Cohen never made use of Brooklyn's library, Mr. Ozera purposefully kept the women apart, and Warren wondered how MCRC functioned with so many interpersonal conflicts.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Brooklyn asked again.

“I'm fine.” Warren repeated with infinite patience.

She opened her mouth to protest again, even as the stewardess came over the intercom to announce their imminent take off, but Warren placed his hand over hers on the armrest.

“I'm alright, Brook.” he told her before she could voice her concerns. He did enjoy her fussing, but Jack wouldn't forgive them if she couldn't focus on her job for worrying about him. “Let's focus on finishing with Mrs. Cohen as quickly as possible.

“We're going to be there for a month, no matter how quickly we work.” Brooklyn sighed.

“At least it's the shortest month.” Warren laughed.

“I'm going to be very busy.” Brooklyn said sadly. “Mrs. Cohen has more people working for her than the other heads. I'll have to interview all of them.”

“Meaning we won't have much time to spend together.” Warren lifted her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. She had refused, to his dismay, to share his bed with him the night he had been poisoned despite him assuring her that he was fine. “We get nights off, Brook. And once we're finished with the inspections, we'll have more time together.”

Brooklyn smiled as he kissed each finger, as he knew she would. “Victor might need me. He works late a lot.”

Warren frowned. “I didn't think of that.” Then he smiled. “You'll just have to wake me up when you finish with him.”

Brooklyn laughed. “You're rather sure of yourself.”

“Confident.” he protested with grin. “Are you saying you won't join me?”

Brooklyn leaned across the armrest and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek as the airplane started moving to get ready for takeoff. “I'm sure he won't keep me too late.”

XXXXXXXXXXXX

As it turned out, Brooklyn didn't have to worry about Victor keeping her late at all.

The sun had barely set when he leaned back from the desk in his hotel room, pushing the paperwork away from him.

“I think I'll make it an early night.” he told her, grinning.

“Really?” Brooklyn asked, surprised. In her arms was a stack of papers that she needed him to sign, in a briefcase she had set on the coffee table was a set of briefs he needed to read over, notes she had condensed from the weekly report from the heads he needed to read, as well as her own paperwork she needed to have finished as she was in charge of all the logistics of the inspections. “We have so much work left to do.”

“You've done incredibly well, Brook.” Victor told her, standing and placing his hands on her shoulders. “If I could lure you away from the library permanently to be my assistant, I would. You are outstanding at this.”

“I don't know, Victor...” Brooklyn looked at the briefcase, conflicted. It wasn't wise to look a gift horse in the mouth, after all, but they really did have a lot of work to do. Victor had never gone to bed early before even when she had been acting as his assistant.

“Why don't you take Warren down to the hotel's restaurant.” Victor suggested with a knowing smile. “I know you've been worried about him since that little accident with Lester.”

“Accident?” Brooklyn repeated dryly, making Victor laugh.

She hadn't forgiven Dr. Fontane for his 'experiment'. She doubted she ever would. She had a very long memory. She had received the chilling, rather short text from Crispin when she had been telling Kieth that she had given Jack his file. They had been laughing, her other assistant Merida had congratulated him and had immediately launched into plans to give him a going-away party. The text had been simple: 'Fontane gave Warren alcohol. We're on our way to the hospital now. Don't worry'. The last statement, of course, did nothing to keep her from worrying at all.

She had never been so happy of her ability to adapt herself to any situation before. Taking the logical, bureaucratic steps to take care of Warren had come easily to her despite never having had to do anything like it before. It was the emotional tole she hadn't been prepared for. Keeping herself calm and methodical was a practiced act, something she did just. However, under it all, she had been a mass of nerves and tension.

Warren had almost died.

She had never given her heart to someone before and he had almost died.

Dr. Fontane had tried to tell her, as if she was willing to listen to any of his insane rationalizations, that the amount of alcohol he had given Warren had been carefully measured to be just short of fatal. That had only succeeded in angering Brooklyn more.

She had been ready to kill Dr. Fontane herself, she might have done it had Jack not been there to stop her.

It wasn't until after the fact that, when she had calmed down, when she had examined the unfamiliar hostility, that she realized she had never before contemplated murder. In that moment, seeing Dr. Fontane trying to justify why he had purposefully tried to kill the man she loved, she had felt, not just capable of killing him, but that it might be worth going to prison just to make sure he suffered for what he did.

Realizing how violent her thoughts were, actually getting a bit alarmed at them, she had thrown herself into caring for Warren. Seeing him well, watching him smile as she fussed, had done more to ease her temper than exploding at Dr. Fontane had.

Hearing Victor refer to the poisoning as an 'accident' was enough to make her angry again. She would have held it against him except that it wasn't the first time he had been callous about something around her.

Much like Brooklyn herself, Victor had a mask he showed the world. But where hers was impassive and watchful, his was charming and winning. A true politician, he could be as sympathetic and endearing as he needed to be. However, a man didn't reach his position in life without seeing a few horrors and becoming accustomed to them. He let his guard down around her often and would refer to things so coldly.

Brooklyn was sure he didn't mean them, he was just more used to such things than her.

“Go, Brook, my dear.” as Victor talked, her steered her to the door of his hotel room. “We can get back to work tomorrow. The work will still be there, I promise. There will probably be more.”

“That's my argument.” Brooklyn said weakly but, she had to admit, she was looking forward to seeing Warren. True, he was right outside the door in the common area of the room they were in, but it seemed so far to her.

The rather nice hotel they were staying in gave them an enormous suite. Victor's room was the nicest, set back farthest from the door, and offered the best view. Brooklyn and Warren had their own rooms, to either side of his, that were very nice as well but didn't have such a wonderful view. They shared a common area and Warren was out there at the moment, going over a few employee files from the Legal Division. He wanted to get a jump start on his workload and, since he figured Brooklyn would be with Victor for hours more yet, he felt safe in getting started that night. Their inspection, technically, didn't start until the next morning, they hadn't even seen Mrs. Cohen yet.

“Go, Brook.” Victor opened the door, causing Warren to look up from the papers in front of him, “Put the dinner on my bill.”

“Victor-”

“We'll work hard tomorrow.” He told her as he pushed her gently, but firmly, out of his room. “Everything in life can't be about work, Brook.”

“But-” Brooklyn tried to say but the door shut, and locked, behind her before she could get any other words out.

“What's going on?” Warren asked curiously.

“Um, I guess I have the night off.” Brooklyn looked at the door behind her, confused.

“Really?” Warren smiled eagerly which only made her grin at him.

“I guess so.” she walked over to him and he held his arms open to her. She sat on his lap, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and leaned against him. “He says we should go have dinner on him.”

“Well, I'm not one to turn down a free meal.” Warren said, making her laugh as he stroked her hair. “We haven't gone on a real date in a long time. I say we take him up on it.”

“But what about our work?” Brooklyn asked, feeling slightly guilty. She didn't like leaving things half done.

“We're not blowing it off completely, just for a few hours.” Warren suddenly stood up, making Brooklyn squeak in surprise as she automatically adjusted her grip. “We'll get dressed, have a nice dinner, enjoy ourselves on Mr. Ozera.”

He walked around the suite carrying her as if she weighed nothing at all and Brooklyn practically purred at the sensation. With one hand, the other cradling her body close to his, Warren opened the door to her room and took her inside.

Gently, lovingly, he sat her on her bed and stood up again, grinning. “What do you say?”

“I would love to.” Brooklyn laughed. “But wouldn't you rather just...stay in?” As she said it, she moved her fingers up her leg in what she was sure was a clumsy attempt at being seductive. However, despite her inexperience and, probably, lack of skill, she still saw a spark of desire light in Warren's eyes as his eyes followed her fingers.

“Tempting.” he said, his voice low and husky. “But I want to take you to dinner.”

“What man turns down an offer of sex?” Brooklyn asked on a pout as she leaned back, trying to thrust her small chest out enticingly. She wasn't good at this, but what she lacked in skill she made up for in eagerness.

“Who said I was turning it down?” Warren reached down and grabbed her hands and yanked her up so she was standing in front of him.

One hand went around her waist, the other buried itself in her hair and tilted her head back to give him better access to her mouth. Brooklyn braced herself on his broad shoulders but kissed him back enthusiastically.

There was no rush in this kiss, they took their time exploring territory that was already so familiar. As was true of everything they did together, it was the simplicity of the movement that made it so amazing. There was no wandering of his hands, he didn't attempt to push the kiss past anything but a kiss, but he put every bit of his not inconsiderable skill into the move.

Just that easy action was enough to make Brooklyn's body tingle with awareness, with anticipation. She wanted more, she needed more. She pushed her body against him, arched into his muscled frame, as she tried to non-verbally tell him what she wanted.

However, it was at that moment that he released her, both of their breathing hard and panting.

“I would never turn you down.” he continued as if nothing had happened. Brooklyn needed to think for a second to remember what he was talking about. “But I want to take you downstairs and show you off and enjoy a nice meal together.”

“Warren...” Brooklyn tried to say something but she wasn't sure what it was she wanted to say. Every part of her body and mind yearned for him. His company, his love, his laughter, his pleasure. She was so wrapped up in wanting him she couldn't think.

“When we've eaten.” he promised, leaning down and nibbling on her ear making her moan and her knees go weak. “Once we've had a nice meal, some good conversation, we'll come back up here and I'll make love to you then for as long as you want.”

He leaned back and looked her over. He loved seeing her like this, her eyes clouded with lust and love that were so tangled up he couldn't tell one from the other. Watching her struggling to get her thoughts together as she put her weight on him because she couldn't stand because of the desire coursing through her veins made his own body hot and eager. If she insisted, he knew, he wouldn't be able to tell her 'no'.

He wanted to take her to dinner, he truly did. He loved her company, he loved hearing her talk. He loved her. But if she repeated her request, if she tried again to, adorably, seduce him, he wouldn't be able to tell her anything. He would give in to what they both wanted so bad that the very air around them burned with their desire.