Brooklyn kissed her sister on the head, smiling contentedly as Juliana ran into the classroom to greet her new friend. Toying with the lanyard around her neck, she sighed, beginning to turn, stopping when Mr. Blackwell raised his hand towards her.
"Ms. Bianchi? Can I have a moment?" He asked, almost hesitantly.
"Of course, Mr. Blackwell." She tried to smile reassuringly.
"Oh, thank you." The older man flushed, as if embarrassed.
Curious, she stepped closer to Juliana's teacher. "How can I help you today?"
The older man blushed deeper, but nodded. "I noticed your boyfriend isn't here, today."
Brooklyn gave a small frown. "Yes. He's been called into work. We don't expect him back for a few days, depending on how things go with his co-workers."
Mr. Blackwell nodded again. "I don't think I ever got any information on his employment."
"He's in the private security sector, currently contracted with a subsidiary of Stark Industries." Brooklyn calmly explained. "His hours can be a bit... fluid. He's basically on call, at all times."
"Oh, I'm sorry. That must be difficult." He shook his head in sympathy.
"We try not to talk about his work, much." Brooklyn smoothly explained. "We are concerned the effects it might have on Juliana. We feel she might be a bit too young to understand the full ramifications of what his job entails."
"Ah." Mr. Blackwell grinned, as if relieved. "I guess that would explain why she was saying that Mr. Rogers knows Iron Man, personally. That they are friends."
Brooklyn winced. Dammit, Rogers. Of course Juliana, as a child would speak about things like that. Tact and subterfuge were generally NOT a child's forte. "Yes. He does work closely with Mr. Stark, as far as I'm aware. Mr. Stark takes a great interest in the services my boyfriend provides for his company."
Mr. Blackwell grinned. "Well, at least that explains that. I will be seeing you at three pm?"
"Yes." Brooklyn smiled back. Mr. Blackwell seemed a quiet unassuming man. He put her at ease. It was easy to see why he became a teacher. "I will be here. Nothing could keep me away from my sister."
She backed away, letting another family take her place, as she turned to walk out of the school. It was easier today, then It had been yesterday. Yesterday, every step felt like she was slogging through wet cement, the weight of her guilt and worry dragging her down. But today, after seeing how happy her sister was, going to school, she was more than okay with Juliana leaving her side for the hours it took.
That and Brooklyn needed to be free and unencumbered for what she needed to do.
Steve had messaged her, a few hours after leaving the apartment to return to the Tower, then called this morning, right as Juliana and Brooklyn were getting up, full of apologies that he wasn't there. That he might not be there for a few days. Some information had come down the line to the Avengers that there was a very large depot, somewhere in Argentina, moving and selling weapons and tech and gear from SHIELD, HYDRA, and even the Chitauri. It needed to be dealt with, and fast, before anymore of those items fell into nefarious hands. Brooklyn fully approved of this. Some of the gear she had been trained to use, and had used, had no business being on the street or in terrorist's hands.
Especially without the oversight that SHIELD provided.
Steve had called, apologized to Juliana, who had held the phone up to her ear, nodding very seriously. Juliana, in return, told him to be careful, that he needed to have a good day, and that she loved him. Then she had handed to phone to her older sister, and skipped off to get ready for school.
Steve told Brooklyn that he felt like shit, for abandoning them on the second day of school. Brooklyn reiterated that they were always aware that his work came first, and that as long as he hit the big days, the days when parents were actually needed, according to the calender, then he was going to be okay. She wasn't sure if this was true or not. She was making it up as she went. Then he started in on that damned museum trip again, about how he wanted to chaperone, and she just about wanted to reach through the phone to strangle him. Thankfully Nat had started pulling his attention away from his phone. With him swearing, up and down and sideways and under and over, that he would be home soon, and to not worry (not that she actually was), he ended the call, and she took a deep breath.
Brooklyn, now knowing a tentative timeline, had messaged Mr. Marino, set the phone down, and helped her sister get ready for school.
Now, walking out of the school, on to the street, she got into the back of the dark blue compact that was parked in the loading zone.
Francis Marino jr, known far and wide as the imaginative 'Junior', sat next to her, with a rueful grin on his face. "Pops says you have unfinished business."
"The job isn't finished." she explained, pulling her messenger bag onto her lap. "And I don't have a lot of time to finish it."
"Yeah, Pops said your new man isn't keen on you picking up on a few jobs for the family." He reached up and tugged at her ponytail, causing her to bat at his hands. "So it's all nice and official now? You got Cap taking care of you now?"
"I don't need him to take care of me." she argued, shoving him gently towards the door of the car. "I can take care of myself."
"Sure, Queenie." Junior laughed. "You try telling Ma and Pops that. I just wanna know if I need to roll up in there and let him know what's what."
She laughed. Junior was a younger, easier going version of his father, at least when he wasn't on the job. When he was on the job though, he was just as ruthless as his old man. He had taken an instant liking to her and her sister, embracing them as family just as much as his parents had. "I would pay good money to see how Steve would react to you trying to intimidate him. Really I would."
"What?" Junior spread his arms wide. "You don't think I can stand toe to toe with Captain America?"
"No." She laughed again. "No, Junior. I don't"
"Jeez." He folded his arms. "You hearing this, Hams?"
Hams, Junior's best friend and personal bodyguard, who was currently driving the car, nodded. "I hear it, Junior. Hey, Queenie, what's Captain America got that we don't, huh? Why can't you date a good Italian guy?"
"Oh, my god!" She laughed harder. "Seriously? You want to know what he has that you guys don't? Really?"
"Hey, I'm just sayin. If I knew you were into older men, I coulda set you up with my old man." Hams came to a full stop at a red light, looking at her in the rear view mirror. "He's on dialysis, and he only has one kidney, but I'm pretty sure he still gets it up. Although, his hearing ain't so good no more."
"Ew." Brooklyn shook her head. "No thank you."
"No, seriously. Ma has been setting you up with all these nice guys, and you pick the patriotic patsy?" Junior poked her side, causing her to giggle. "What gives?"
She batted his hand away again, trying to poke him as well. "He does it for me."
"'He does it for you'? What, is that code for how he well he dicks you?" Junior put on a disgusted face. "I don't wanna think about that."
"No!" Brooklyn laughed, then fell serious. "He makes me feel safe. He makes the noise in my head stop. He just... he just does it for me. None of the guys your mom set me up with even sparked a bit of interest in me. I know they were nice guys, and they were polite. But Steve... he just pushes past all that. He is solid. I know he's strong enough to catch me if I fall. My only worry is that it might get too much, even for him. All the shit I have in my past, that I have to wade through."
"And he's okay with Jules? He's not like...'Ew, small child!'?" Junior pointed at her. "Because if he is, I will break his face."
Brooklyn shook her head. "He loves her. And she loves him. He's really, REALLY good with her. As in, he wants to do all the things, all the things she needs him to do. I mean, he was on the phone this morning, bitching about how he wanted to chaperone this museum field trip in a few weeks, and how he was going to make it work, and if he could figure out how he could tell his team he needed that day off, without telling them why."
Junior affected a more polite, cleaner accent, trying to mimic Steve. "Oh, if you wouldn't mind, I have to take my girlfriend's sister to the museum with her kindergarten class. Is there anyway we can tell the evil people who are trying to take over the world, if they would be so kind as to schedule their attempted take over until Monday, preferably after I have dropped her off for school that day?"
Brooklyn shoved at him. "He doesn't sound like that."
"No, you are right. I forgot to add the 'We Want You!' tone." He shrugged. "Of all the guys in New York, you have to get Captain America sniffing after your snatch like a dog in heat."
She made a disgusted sound. "Don't be nasty."
"Hey, Queenie?" Hams asked from the driver's seat. "When he cums, do eagles perch outside the window, and the National Anthem play in the background?"
"I will shoot you both, and leave your bodies for the bums to roll." She threatened as the two men laughed their heads off.
*****************************
They sat outside the small row house, watching from a safe distance.
Junior sucked on his teeth. "He's supposed to be home in thirty minutes. Pops doesn't want it done here."
"He also doesn't want me to kill anyone." Brooklyn pointed out. "We have two choices. We do it here, and get it done, or we take him, and hope no one sees us. It's fucking daytime."
"Well, if you could wait until nighttime, we could take him out the back, and the neighbors wouldn't even know." Junior leaned forward between the front seats.
Brooklyn rolled her eyes. "Forgive me for trying to fit this in between Juliana's school hours."
Junior poked her in the side. "Nah. I'm giving you shit. We'll get this done, then get his girl later tonight. We can set them up, let them have a little chat, then fix their problems."
"I say we call in a van, grab him off the street, and do that." Hams suggested.
"All the plans are pretty shit, when you think about it." Brooklyn nodded. "Call the van."
"Yeah." Junior agreed. "How far out is everyone?"
Hams was already on the phone, giving the address. Hanging it up, he looked back at the two of them. "Slick can be here in twenty."
"That'll work." Brooklyn felt herself smile. "Grab him as he's coming in, then take him to the location. Hold him until we get the girl."
"Sounds solid." Junior slapped the headrest of the drivers seat. "But how are we going to get him into the van without a struggle?"
She stared at him with disbelief. "are you shitting me? He thinks I'm dead. He thinks he got away with it. If you go over there, and tell him your father wants to speak with him, he'll get right in the vehicle without an issue. Jesus, are you brain dead?"
"Oh." Junior blinked. Then he nodded. "Yeah, that'll work."
"Oh, fucking Christ." She groaned. "I swear, you are all amateurs."
"Hey! In my defense..."Junior trailed off, blinking, then shook his head. "Yeah, that was a brain dead moment."
"Ya think?" She slapped the back of her head. "Jesus Christ."
They waited, for Slick with the vehicle, while the men discussed the prospects of the Yankees. Brooklyn listened, frowning the entire time. She was remembering how Steve had tried to lay down the law, in regards to the Yankees. And in reality, with baseball still being unknown to her, she didn't have an opinion, but at the same time, she felt like it was important to him. Maybe it would behoove her to learn more about the game.
Slick showed up, parking behind the compact that they were sitting in. Junior got out, and walked over to the drivers window of the SUV. They talked for a few minutes, then he came back and opened the back door of the compact.
"I'm going to have Slick move up, and wait for Freddie." He jerked his head toward the row house. "Like you said, it should be easy. Be a good girl, and stay in the car."
"I don't take orders from you!" she snapped, as he shut the door. "Fucking ass."
Hams laughed. "Like siblings, the two of you."
"Yeah, yeah." she sighed, leaning so she could watch from the back window. The tinting helped keep her hidden, but she still tried to keep herself out of sight as she saw Freddie walking down the sidewalk. Anger flickered, as she watched him saunter along, without a care in the world. Fucking idiot, he should have made sure she was dead.
He was going to regret that, before too long.
Steve staying with her, and keeping her occupied had actually worked in their favor, when it came to the situation with Freddie and Diamonte. The longer she remained hidden, the better the two of them had settled into their false belief that she was dead. That no one had come after them for her death, must have led them to the security that they had gotten away with her murder.
Well, even if she didn't kill them, she was going to punish them for their little display of stupidity.
Diamonte had made a huge mistake, Brooklyn smirked at the thought. If the dancer had just kept her mouth shut to begin with, or dealt with her personal issues through management, then maybe she would not be hunted, later tonight.
Freddie held out his arms to accept the hug and back slap from Junior as he came up to the other man. They stood there talking for a minute, before Junior jerked his head towards the vehicle he had been leaning against when Freddie got to him. Freddie nodded, smiling, before climbing into the back seat. Junior climbed into the front passenger seat, and the vehicle entered traffic.
"Hams." She ordered.
"On it, Queenie." Hams replied as he waited for a car to pass them, putting it between them and the other vehicle, before entering traffic as well, following the van.
"I'm not worried about being seen, Hams." She cocked her head.
"Yeah, but if the feds have been sniffing around Freddie, we don't need them to know you have been involved." Hams reasoned. "'sides, I gotta get the practice in. Since Virginia, the Russians have been getting antsy."
Brooklyn sighed roughly. "Fucking dicks."
"Yeah. I mean, they've been running guns and bringing in girls, and they expect us to turn a blind eye? Please."
She rubbed her face. "Christ."
Steve was not going to be happy, if she went any deeper then she already had. She didn't think it was his business, but he had a strange way of deciding what was and was not his business. What shampoo she washed her hair with? Not his business. What milk she bought? His business. Where she shopped? Not his business. If she helped out the mafia family that had helped her find her feet when she first got out of HYDRA? Yeah, he thought that was his business.
Maybe this was one of those weird normality things. She knew that the legality of her helping out the Marinos deal with the Russians was not exactly above board. She also was aware that depending on the actions she took, while helping out the Marinos, could determine how much the authorities in charge of regulating the various Families ultimately dealt with her, should they decide. But considering he regularly entered foreign soil as an agent of a private United States security force, without that government's prior permission in most cases, with the intention of causing a ruckus, the ice he was treading in regards to his dislike for her own actions was pretty damn thin.
It might even be considered a case of the pot calling the kettle black.
So in reality, he didn't have a leg to stand on, in regards to how legal the activities she spent her day doing were. And if he never found out, all the better. It wasn't like she was going to be informing him of it.
"I would like to get this done, real quick, so that I can get to the spa. I'm overdue for a wax. And God knows my nails need work." She told Hams.
"I don't need to know about nails and waxing and shit." He shook his head. "That's something no man needs to know. Unless the are light in their loafers."
"Oh, my god." she laughed. "is this seriously how men are? You want the women around you to be all perfect and plucked and smooth and put together, but you don't want to know how it's done? Really?"
"It's just not natural." He shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I'm pretty sure your Cap would agree."
"Actually," She corrected, smugly. "He went with Juliana and I, on her birthday and had a manicure and pedicure. AND! He enjoyed both!"
Hams sent her a quick look over his shoulder. "You sure he's not a fairy poof?"
She let the corner of her mouth turn up, as she considered how much Steve enjoyed their activities together. "Oh, yeah. I'm sure. He's definitely not gay."
Something in her tone must have tipped of Hams. "Oh, look at that. The Ice Queen defrosted."
"Shut up!" She laughed. "I'm not an ice queen."
"Nah, seriously." He chuckled. "A lot of the guys were sure once some guy got under your skirt, you would burn the place down. Nice to know someone finally did."
"God, you guys are such assholes." She complained.
"Queenie, I'm just sayin." Hams turned into the parking lot of the warehouse, coming up to the side of it and parking, before turning around to face her. "If he's a good guy, if he treats you right, if he seems like he's going to be a loyal, suck that dick until he puts a ring on it. Trust me."
She shook her head. "He says he doesn't want that, unless I want it."
"Bullshit." Hams laughed. "He's pulling a fast one. All guys love a hot woman's mouth on their cock. I don't care if it was Jesus himself come down from heaven, if he says he doesn't want it sucked, he's lying."
Brooklyn blinked. "So you are saying..."
"I'm saying suck that cock like your life depends on it." Hams nodded. "Trust me. He'll worship you night and day, if you do. You'll have him wrapped around your little finger."
Well. There was that. Brooklyn began cracking her knuckles on her jaw as she thought about this. So, even if Steve said he could live without it... he wanted it. According to Hams, who's mental abilities were somewhat in question, even on the best of days. Although, the idea that she had a way to curb Steve's more... overbearing traits...
"So, you are saying that if your wife was to...give you oral, you would do what ever she wanted?" Brooklyn asked, wanting confirmation.
"Are you kidding? She wanted this bag. Expensive as fuck. And she already has like... a thousand purses. I kept saying, what do you need another bag to carry all your shit in?" He shook his head. "But for two whole days, she sucked my pipe every time she got a chance. I went out and bought that bag on the morning of the third day. I couldn't help it. She turned my brain to oatmeal. She brought me to my knees."
Brooklyn did like the idea of having Steve on his knees. That was one thing that her failed attempt to take control in the bedroom had brought her lasting enjoyment. Despite her major misstep in choking him while in the high of her orgasm, putting that proud man on his knees was an image she definitely didn't want to leave her brain anytime soon.
Junior came out of the warehouse and walked over to the car, opening the back door, leaning in. "You ready?"
She smiled. "Oh, yeah."
Brooklyn climbed out of the car, reaching up to pull her hairband out, shaking out her hair and scratching her scalp. Leaving her messenger bag in the car, she shut the door and followed Junior and Hams into the warehouse. Before she even crossed the threshold, she could hear Freddie.
"Look! I don't know what you guys think I did, but I didn't do it!" He cried, from beneath the hood on his head. "I'm sure, if you just let me talk to the Boss, this will all be cleared up!"
"Will it, Freddie?" She asked, a smirk forming on her face, and letting him hear it in her voice. "Will it all be cleared up? You sure about that?"
He stilled, his head jerking towards the sound of her voice. "Queenie?" He sounded incredulous. "I thought-"
"That I was dead? Yeah. I figured that." She shrugged, despite him not being able to see her. "But as a great writer once said, 'the reports of my death were greatly exaggerated.'"
Junior laughed, joking, "See that, Freddie? She's too smart for you! She's all educated and shit."
Brooklyn rolled her eyes, and walked over to Freddie, standing in front of him. It was a testament to how quiet she was moving, that when she grabbed the bag at the top of his head, he jerked like she had shocked him. "Oh, calm down. We haven't even begun the fun stuff yet."
She jerked the bag off his head, watching him shake his head, his eyes wide, then narrowing with calculation.
"Guys! If there was anything funny going on, it's probably her fault!" He accused, jerking his head to face Junior. "Think about it! She comes out of nowhere, and somehow convinces the Boss to trust her? Suddenly the Russians know how to get around our people, to get the guns into the city? And they are now moving girls? Who the hell is this bitch anyhow?"
Brooklyn sighed, before letting her hand fly, back handing him with as much strength as she wanted. It felt good to let a little of her natural abilities out. Her hand connected with his cheek with a loud crack, whipping his head around, and rocking the chair over so he landed on his shoulder.
He cried out as he landed on the floor, his head striking the old stained concrete floors with a sharp snap.
Reaching down, she grabbed the chair and lifted him back upright. "Oh, Freddie. You don't need to be selling your fantasy, here. They know who I am. And Mr. Marino knows exactly where I came from. As for selling out information to the Russians... I wasn't aware that was happening. How did you?"
"Diamonte told me everything! How she caught you sneaking around the club, meeting with some of the Russian enforcers in the private rooms. That you weren't giving dances, but information in between blowjobs and ass fucks!" He snarled, working his jaw to alleviate the ache from her slap. "And when she confronted you about it, because she cared about Mr. Marino's guys, you threatened her to keep her mouth shut, saying how if she didn't, you were going to give her to the Russians to sell off to the lowest bidder!"
"Jesus, Freddie!" Junior groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. "You can't be that fuckin stupid!"
"Diamonte told me it, Junior! I swear on my mother's life!" Freddie cried.
"Queenie never works the private rooms! She always sends another girl!" Junior shook his head. "In fact, she's sent Diamonte more than a couple times! And we have cameras in the private rooms, you dumb fuck! If Queenie was fuckin Russians in there, the security would have seen it, and reported it, long before Diamonte told you her little tale."
"She's terrified of Queenie! She says Queenie's got you all blind, that she tried to tell Momo, but he just brushed her off, saying that Queenie was protected. Momo is probably in on it too!"
Brooklyn grabbed his neck, causing him to choke. "Listen here, you little waste of space, you can say what you want about me. But don't you EVER try to spread that shit about Momo! He takes care of those girls better then some of their own flesh and blood do."
"Queenie." Junior sighed, as Freddie began to change color. "We need him alive."
"And I promised your father no killing." Brooklyn agreed, letting Freddie go. The man dropped his head gasping, choking, coughing, as he tried to resume his normal breathing.
"Damn, Queenie." Hams looked on with interest. "You are going to have to show me how to do that."
"You put pressure on both the windpipe and the carotid artery. You cut off air and blood flow, causing the subject to loose consciousness rather quickly. Too much, you kill them, to little... well, I have never learned what happens when you do too little." She smiled over her shoulder at Hams. "Sorry. My training was about killing. It depends on how fast you want them to go. If you want them to feel it, or not."
"Here's what's going to happen, Freddie." Junior stepped in, bringing them back to business. "You are going to wait here, and think about what you've done. Because we know you tried to kill Queenie, when she was just trying to do her job, in helping you get wet. But we are going to be nice. We are going to let you have one last date with your girl, Diamonte. She's going to be joining you soon. And when she gets here, if her story doesn't match up with yours, well we are going to have some problems. If it does... eh, we'll take it from there. So I want you to be very certain about the stories you have just been tellin'. Is there anything else you might have misremembered?"
Junior pointed at Brooklyn. "Because if you need any help remembering the finer details, I am more than certain that Queenie, here, would be happy to help you."
"I'm telling the truth, Junior! I swear on my mother's sainted life!" Freddie cried. "She's working for the Russians!"
"You can't fix stupid, Junior." Hams shook his head. "Slick will take you and Queenie to go bring in our second contestant, so we can continue playing our game of 'who's telling the truth'. I can chill here, until youse get's back."
Junior nodded. "Sounds good to me. Queenie, you have an objection to that plan?"
Brooklyn shook her head. "Nope. Sounds solid to me."
*********************************
Junior was going to call Diamonte to meet him at the corner from around her apartment, using the number Momo had given him. "You are gonna be dramatic, aren't you, Queenie? Just hide your head, then pop out and scare the shit out of her?"
"No." She shook her head, reaching into her messenger bag. "I have a little trick left over from my former life."
Brooklyn pulled out the needle case. "This is fast acting stuff. But it won't leave her hungover like some of the shit people usually use." opening the case, she picked up the small vial. Shaking it, she mused that the time away from HYDRA had not caused the chemical to separate. Plunging a hypodermic needle into the cap, she measured out the (maybe?) correct dose. It was hard to tell without knowing exactly how much Diamonte weighed. "Now, remember, I'm going to walk by, inject her, and you have to grab her before she hits the ground. She's going to be disoriented for about five seconds, before it knocks her out."
"Where was this stuff when we took Freddie?" He groused. "It woulda been easier then hearing him cry and beg and try to explain that we were all wrong. I mean, he sat down in that chair pretty easy, but when we pulled up to the warehouse, I was sure he was going to do a runner."
"Freddie is a scared, whipped, boy who thinks he's a man. Diamonte is a street smart alley cat. She's going to be on high alert anyhow, with the Boss's son calling her for a favor. If she truly believes she's got Freddie under her thumb, then one of the first things she'll do is call him. If he doesn't answer, she might think he's already dealt with. So she might be looking to nibble her way up the food chain." Brooklyn looked at him. "This is just insurance to make sure we get her into the car without hassle."
"Jesus." Junior shook his head. "I'll just call her then?"
"Yeah. You do that." Brooklyn rolled her eyes, making sure there weren't any air bubbles in the needle. She wasn't trying to kill Diamonte, after all. An embolism would put a kibosh on the festivities. Plus, Brooklyn was pretty sure that it would be breaking the vow she made to not kill anyone.
Junior made the call, raising his eyes at the excited tone that Diamonte had, audible through the tiny speaker of the phone, when he suggested they meet, to 'go talk about maybe moving her up in things'. Seriously, it had been that easy. The grasping woman barely needed any encouragement, whatsoever to meet with Junior. Brooklyn curled her lips in disgust. This was easier than she had thought it was going to be.
Brooklyn climbed out of the SUV, leaving her messenger bag in the passenger seat, ignoring Slick, who was driving. She pulled the long sleeve of her oversized shirt down over the hand that was holding the needle ready, ducking her head and letting her hair cover her face, making it look like she was just having a bad day, watching through the strands for Diamonte to come.
The other woman didn't keep them waiting. In fact, it looked like she barely put any clothes on, wearing an outfit that was more fit for Tassels then the street, let alone any place decent. If she bounced anymore, her tits were going to be on display for the whole world to see, free of charge.
Brooklyn waited until Diamonte got to the SUV, before walking forward calmly, and quickly jabbing the other woman in the leg with the needle. Depressing the plunger, she sent the sedative into her bloodstream, then began walking down the block. She heard the door to the SUV open, then shut, and it start, before looking over her shoulder. When she got to the end of the block, the SUV turned the corner, and stopped in front of her.
Brooklyn opened the passenger door, and climbed in, sighing when it looked like no one had paid any attention to the events that had just unfolded.
"How long is the bitch going to be out?" Junior asked, poking the unconscious Diamonte in the cheek.
"Depends on how her body reacts to the sedative." Brooklyn responded, buckling herself in. "Don't worry, she will definitely be out long enough for us to get her to lover boy."
Indeed, it was more than enough time for them to get Diamonte to the warehouse, drag her in, and tie her to a chair, all while Freddie watched in horror.
"Sad thing is, Freddie my boy," Brooklyn commented, as she checked the bindings on Diamonte's hands. "Is that she came out of her apartment dressed like this. Just because Junior here called and asked if she wouldn't mind keeping him company, today. I'm not one to shame a woman for what she decides to wear out in public, but does that look like an outfit a woman wears, if she is planning on remaining faithful? Plus, she was out of the house, and trying to climb into the SUV in less then ten minutes."
"She was very excited that I had heard about her." Junior noted, grinning. "I even asked if she had a man. She was very, very clear that she did not."
"So I am going to take a stab in the dark here, because I don't want to judge your relationship, but I'm guessing that while you are so certain that she and you are going to be living the happily ever after, she's looking for a big payday." Brooklyn walked around Diamonte. "I guess we just need to know how much of a payday she was trying to get."
"if you touch a hair on her head, I'll go right to the feds!" Freddie screamed.
Brooklyn winced. Well, there went any chance of Freddie walking out of here with a working set of lungs. Tongue too, if he kept wagging it.
She watched as Junior took off his suit jacket, his tie, and his nice dress shirt, setting them aside, leaving him in his undershirt, his patron saint medallion hanging from it's gold chain. "Freddie! My dear Freddie! You should know better than to make threats like that!" Junior grinned, before balling up his fist and planting it in Freddie's cheek.
Freddie tipped over, hitting the concrete floor again, a yelp leaving him. Brooklyn sighed, going over to pull him up. As soon as he was stable, she went to check his jaw, when he reared back his head and spit a mouthful of blood on her.
It sprayed all over the front of her shirt, and dismayed, she looked down at it.
"Goddammit!" She cried, pulling back a leg and kicking the front of Freddie's chair, knocking him backward. "I still have to pick up my sister from school! How the hell am I supposed to do that, covered in your useless fucking blood, you dickhead!?"
Hams started laughing. "And worse, you were only trying to help him."
"Ungrateful!" She pointed at Freddie, while he rolled his head on the floor. "That's just ungrateful!"
Junior jerked his head towards where his clothes were out of the way of any biological contaminate. "You can use mine. It'll drape on you the same way that one does. I can always go home like this. It don't bother me."
Brooklyn considered this. Then she nodded. "Yeah, that'll work."
She turned to Hams. "Did you guys get the stuff on the list?"
"Oh, yeah." He grinned. "We did."
"Well, then." She began rolling up her sleeves. "I think it's time I teach you boys the fine art of torture for information."
She walked over to the table where Hams had gone to stand, watching as she pulled items out of a bag. Seeing the small container of smelling salts, she grabbed it, pulling one out of the package.
"Time to make this a party." She broke the white cartridge, and held it under Diamonte's nose. Brooklyn took a deep breath, getting a whiff of the ammonia, letting a slow, wide grin grow across her face. "Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty. I want to play."
*******************************
Brooklyn looked herself over in the small scratched mirror above the cracked and stained sink in the closet of a bathroom. After running her hands through the water trickling out of the ancient faucet, she ran her wet fingers over her face, scrubbing to make sure no blood was visible. Adjusting her ponytail, she pulled off the blood stained shirt, checking the tank top underneath. It had a few spots, that had bled through the fabric that she had worn over it, but black was forgiving, and as long as she wore the shirt she was going to be borrowing from Junior over it, no one would really give her a second glance.
Nodding, she opened the door, turning off the light in the bathroom. Walking over, she glanced at the bloody, broken, but breathing bodies of Diamonte and Freddie.
Shame, really. They hadn't lasted very long, before breaking. She hadn't even gotten to the really fun torture. The torture that involved batteries, ropes, two by fours, and bathtubs full of water. A few hits with some brass knuckles, the breaking of a few fingers... they had broken. Granted, they weren't very recognizable. Diamonte certainly would never work in a place where she would have to face the public, ever again. At least not without some serious cosmetic surgery. Her ear might be difficult to reattach. And the scars... oh the scars would be difficult for her to hide.
Brooklyn almost considered her a work of art now. 'A study on the human condition of pain and torture'. She could sell it to MoMA. Make a fortune. Go on tour, showing people how she had crafted the skin to show the pain hidden underneath. How the strokes of a well placed fist painted the body in colors, or how the skin tore and lifted from the muscle so beautifully when the knife was applied in such a certain matter... There had to be a niche market for it.
After all, people purchased those plasticized embalmed bodies, and were calling it art. Or those sharks in those tanks. That was supposedly art.
The only difference was, as far as Brooklyn could tell, was that Diamonte was still breathing.
It was a condition that would be shortly remedied, if she knew her current companions.
Freddie. Oh, poor Freddie.
Brooklyn would almost feel sorry for the man, if he hadn't put a bullet in her, and then left her thinking she had been dead. She had made sure to make that plain to him, every time he spoke to her.
Not that he would get the chance to make that mistake again. Always confirm your kill.
No, it appeared that Diamonte had decided to dig herself into a little hole, and cause a bunch of shit for the Marinos. Well, not just the Marinos. The whole Costa Nostra. She had been selling information to the Russians for about a year and a half, helping them move the guns and pick up girls to sell. In fact, a few of the dancers and servers who had quit from Tassels, had not in fact quit, but had been picked up by the Russians, to be sold to the highest bidder, or even just turned out as whores.
The one that really upset the current group, was a pretty little redhead who had gone missing about a month before Brooklyn had started working there. Charmaine. Twenty two,and had actually been working at the club to put herself through college. Had been a darling of one of Junior's crew. Apparently, a couple nights before she had reported missing, the crew member had asked her to marry him. She had asked for a couple days to think about it. When he had gone by her apartment to see if she had decided anything, he had been shocked to hear that she had not been there for a few days.
Diamonte, apparently jealous of the attention Charmaine had been getting at the club, much like she had with Brooklyn, had tipped off the Russians to where Charmaine lived, indicating that she had no friends or family that would miss her. They had snatched her off the street on the very night the crew member had proposed marriage.
According to Diamonte, the random mugging Brooklyn had had not long after working at the club, had not been random, after all. Diamonte had wanted Brooklyn gone. Her fresh, pretty face, as well as the fact that the Marinos were being protective over her, had irked Diamonte. So she had tried to get rid of her.
That had not worked out well for the muggers involved.
Brooklyn had watched as Freddie seemed to die inside, as he listened to Diamonte's confessions. All the lies she had told him about Brooklyn, were actually acts that she herself had done. What made her send Freddie after Brooklyn was that night Brooklyn had pushed her against the wall. She had felt humiliated. And deciding that enough was enough, she had set Freddie up to kill her, when she had found out that Brooklyn was going to be in Virginia.
How she had found out? Well, Freddie had a loose tongue, and a bit of a chip on his shoulder, regarding the fact that he was going to be handled by a woman on his first outing to get wet.
Drama, drama, drama. Brooklyn sighed, walking over to Junior, who was smoking a cigarette.
"Those things will kill you, I hear." She commented, jerking her head at the cigarette.
"Eh, who wants to live forever, anyhow." He shook his head. "You still got blood on your face."
"The mirror sucks." She tried to wipe at her face, but Junior laughed, and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a handkerchief.
"Hams." He held out the handkerchief to his friend, who wet it with one of the water bottles that were now floating around. Torture was thirsty work, after all, especially in a warehouse in early September, in New York, with no air conditioning. "Here, Queenie."
Junior popped his cigarette in his mouth, letting it hang from his lips, while he took her chin in his hand, and began to scrub at her face. After a minute, he turned her head one way than another, before nodding and giving her a light slap on the face.
"You'll pass." He tossed the handkerchief away, jerking his head towards the door of the warehouse. "Get your ass out of here, Queenie. Hams will drop you off at the school. It should be over soon."
She gave Junior a mocking salute. "Sir, yes, Sir!"
He handed her his nice white button down, free from any blood. She slipped it on, and buttoned the front, before rolling up the sleeves so they rested on her forearms.
"I'll have it dry cleaned, and returned to you, Junior. Thanks!" She smiled, as she adjusted the collar.
"No worries. Hams will drop off the rest of your payment in a day or two." Junior smiled, before patting her on the shoulder. "Good job, kid. Sorry you had do deal with all of this."
She nodded, frowning. "It's not ideal, I will grant you that. But it's done now. So no more worries."
Junior smiled. "Yup. Pops will give the info over to the rest of the families heads, and let it go from there. Unfortunately, it does mean that Diamonte will need to be alive, so she can personally explain why she betrayed her employer, but eh, what can you do? Anyhow, get going."
Brooklyn smiled, and turned to leave the warehouse, Hams following her, waving over her shoulder.
And if she felt dirty, disgusting, still covered in blood, she felt it all wash away the moment her sister wrapped her arms around her waist. If she still heard the screams, the cries, the gurgles, the pleas for mercy in her ears, they were deafened by her sister's pure giggles and laughs.
In the end, it was all worth it, if Juliana was kept safe.
At least, that's what she told herself when she went to bed that night.
**********************
The next day, after returning to the apartment from taking Juliana to school, thankfully without another talk with Mr. Blackwell, Brooklyn sat on the couch, legs folded under her. She looked at the black screen of her phone, biting her lip.
She knew Steve said he didn't want it, unless she did. But the comments from Hams about it made her wonder if Steve had lied. Not a huge lie, in a way that she should be upset about. But a small lie. A white lie, that didn't really hurt anyone. The kind of lie she had told Mr. Blackwell yesterday, in regards to Steve's employment status. Because she hadn't really lied, just twisted the words a bit.
Maybe Steve had done the same thing? She was still new to so much of all of this, and maybe in that meathead brain of his, he thought he was sparing her something that he thought she wasn't ready for? It was something she could honestly see him doing, if the way he acted and talked was any indication. That weird way he was protective, dominating, and a bit overbearing, was maybe his way of making sure she didn't push him away again.
But now she was curious, and wanted to know how to go about preforming oral sex on him. He had mentioned it was something he liked, that day in the tower, when she had pinned him down a bit on his fetishes. Although, from what she had heard from many of the males in her life over the years, oral was something most men enjoyed, so she wasn't sure how much of a fetish it really was. He had mentioned he liked giving oral more than receiving, and for the most part she enjoyed being on the receiving end of that giving. She didn't have any comparison, but she was pretty sure Steve was good at giving oral. It only seem fair that she at least make an attempt at reciprocating. Before she could try to talk herself out of it, she turned on the screen, hit the browser app and typed in 'instructions on how to preform oral sex'.
And that turned out to be a mistake.
Instead of easy, how-to-guides, she was instructed to porn sites. The first one she clicked on, was basically just a woman on her knees giving a man a blow job. No instructions, no indications on how she was doing it. Just... a video.
Well, that wasn't helpful.
Site after site, video after video. No instructions. No helpful hints. Nothing to help her learn to give the forties flashback a blow job good enough to make up for how well he made her feel when he settled between her legs. There was plenty of women with men, even one with a guy dressed up like one of the puppets from Sesame Street which made Brooklyn uncomfortable. Cartoons in Japanese that had rather disturbing sounds accompanying them. Computer generated videos of women inhaling cocks the size of their own thighs without trouble. There were even men with men.
Which got her to thinking.
Yes, she could probably spend more time on the internet, refining her search language, until she found a text based instruction manual. She could wade through hours of video content until she found an actual educational video. But, she had Marcus and Merlot across the hall. Marcus and Merlot, who were men. And according to Hams, men liked oral sex. It was a safe bet that the two across the hall might be able to help her find instructions on how to preform on Steve.
So she turned off the phone and got up from the couch, walking out her door to across the hall, where she knocked on Marcus and Merlot's apartment. The two men had been giving her space, since she had come back from Virginia. A text during that time basically stated that they wanted to give her space while her 'defrosted man meat' was there. They had stopped by, briefly after they came home from picking up Juliana on the first day of school, listening to Juliana's breathless monologue about everything that had happened that day, praising her for a job well done, before patting Brooklyn on the shoulder with kisses on the cheek to talk later and leaving. Steve had been friendly and polite, actually asking interested questions about the two of them, making Brooklyn proud, considering how many people would have looked down on the couple for their relationship and lifestyle.
But since said man-meat wasn't currently distracting her with his body right now, she felt safe in asking her neighbors for their help.
Marcus answered, a huge grin on his face. "Queenie! How can I help you today? The Little Miss get off to school alright?"
"Yes." She nodded. "She's fine, as far as I know. The teacher wanted to talk to me yesterday morning, about some of the things Juliana said, in regards to Steve's work. But I cleared that up, I think."
"What did you tell him?" Marcus asked, as he moved out of the way to let her into the apartment.
"That he was a private security contractor with Stark Industries." Brooklyn entered the apartment, stopping when she was in their living room. Compared to her apartment, theirs was bursting with clutter. There were prints and pictures hanging on every wall, fabric of different colors and textures piled on the table in the dining area, next to a sewing machine and a dress form. Even the coffee table had odds and ends. Random coffee cups and wine glasses littered the kitchen counter, along with a few magazines flipped open to show dresses and outfits.
Rugs of every color and size were thrown on the floor, muffling their footsteps, and the air was spicy with the scent of crisp apples and cinnamon.
It felt smaller, but more lived in. The two men had obviously made this place a home. And compared to Brooklyn's, it actually felt like one. Hers was impersonal, sterile, really in comparison.
Maybe she needed to add a few more personal touches to her apartment.
"I want to learn how to perform oral sex on Steve." She blurted out, turning to face Marcus. Her former handler stared at her, his jaw dropping, mouth gaping open. Then he flushed red, and began making choking sounds.
"I'm sorry?" He asked, coughing.
"Oral sex. I want to learn how to perform it. For Steve." She clarified. "I don't like the idea that I won't know what I'm doing, when I do it. It's like any other skill, right? I can learn to do it, and be proficient?"
Marcus rubbed his jaw, eyeing her. "Yes, well, you can. It's not that hard, really. I mean, any hooker on a corner offers blow jobs for five bucks a pop, down by the water front. But why do you feel you need to... learn."
"Because I don't want him to be disappointed with my attempts." Brooklyn explained. "I would very much like to please him, on the level he has pleased me."
Merlot came out of the hall, rubbing her neck as she did so. "Whats going on?"
"Queenie wants to learn how to give head." Marcus called.
"For Steve." Brooklyn felt like clearing up.
"Because he pleases her, and she would like to return the favor." Marcus added.
Merlot blinked, pausing in her approach, before narrowing her eyes. "Is he pressuring you?"
"No." Brooklyn shook her head. "In fact, he said he didn't want it, unless I want to do it. But at the same time, how will I know if I want to do it, if I don't learn how to do it?"
Merlot nodded slowly. "Well, that does make sense, if you think about it. Come here." She gestured for Brooklyn to follow her into the kitchen. "I think we have..."
Brooklyn watched as Merlot opened the fridge and began rustling through it.
"...Yes we do." The dark skinned man shut the fridge, holding up a banana. "This is how I learned. Plus, first thing's first, you have to find out how sensitive your gag reflex is. Some guys like that, but if you are going to try to swallow his sword, if you know how bad your reflex is, you can learn to suppress it long enough to get your nose buried in his bush.'
Merlot handed the the banana. "take the peel off, until you have just enough to hold it by. Those things can get pretty slippery."
"Just like a cock." Marcus joked, coming over to watch from the other side of the counter.
"ignore him, he gags if a toothbrush touches the back of his tongue." Merlot waved a hand tipped in long purple nails at Marcus, as if batting away an annoying fly.
Brooklyn nodded and unpeeled the banana, leaving just enough for her to grasp it.
"Now, open your mouth, and slide it in. Relax your tongue, pressing it down into the bottom of your jaw, and see how your body reacts. If you can, relax your throat as well, which should help." Merlot watched as she did as instructed, sliding the banana into her mouth, and relaxing her tongue. The tip of the banana bushed the back of her mouth, and she relaxed her throat as she continued to push. When she felt the banana peel brush her lips, she stopped, waiting for her next instruction.
"Well, damn." Merlot sighed, tapping her fingers on the counter. "You are a natural, girl."
Brooklyn furrowed her brows, pulling the banana away. "What do you mean?"
"Merlot means that you are a natural dick swallow-er." Marcus supplied. "That means you shouldn't have worried about giving Captain Crusty a hummer."
"But Steve's a lot bigger than the banana." She felt she had to point out.
Merlot scoffed. "How much bigger? That was an easy seven inches you put in your mouth."
Looking down at the banana, she held it up, and eyeballed how much bigger Steve was, using her other hand to show them. "He's about that much longer. And..." she held her hand around the side of the banana, trying to approximate the girth that Steve had. "About that much wider."
Both men stared at her. Then Merlot took a deep breath, before letting it out on a long whistle.
"Girl, I'm going to get dressed. You need to go grab some cash." She said as she moved to leave the kitchen.
"Why?" Brooklyn was confused. Why did she need money?
"Because we are going to a store to get you something that you can actually practice on, because that banana? That is way to small."
That's what she had been trying to tell them! Rolling her eyes, she groaned. "I know!"
"Don't rub it in our faces." Marcus pointed at her. "it's not fair. A man with an ass like that, and he's hung like a fucking horse? Not fucking fair!"
Brooklyn blinked. "But it's not his fault."
"No, it's not. But still." Marcus rubbed his face, then made a sound of disappointment. "Are you sure he doesn't bat for both teams? Because maybe that would even the score."
Shaking her head, deciding that she didn't want to try to get into asking about that, she looked down at the banana that was still in her hand. Shrugging, deciding it would be wasteful, she bit into it, chewing as Marcus winced. "What?" She asked.
"there was some imagery I didn't need this morning." her former handler shook his head, before going to follow his boyfriend to their bedroom. "I'm going to get dressed, too. This is going to be too much fun to miss."
It was hours later, when she was standing in her bedroom, the items purchased at that rather interesting store spread out on her bed, her hands on her hips, that she got a scandalous idea. Grabbing her phone, she picked up one of the items, the pink packaging heralding it as a 'guarantee to make you cum!' with the sparkly pink vibrator still inside, and held it up, taking a photo of it. Finding Steve's contact information, which Marcus had unblocked for her, the day after her return from Virginia, she sent the photo knowing he probably wouldn't get it until after he was done with whatever it was he was doing in Argentina. Maybe even when he was on the jet with his fellow Avengers. Or maybe when they were in the middle of doing whatever post mission meetings they did.
Wouldn't that be fun? She smirked at the thought. The idea that he would see the photo, and have to try to pretend nothing was wrong, whether or not he liked the photo, was exciting. That he would have to not react, in front of the others, who would no doubt have a thing or two to say about the photo of the vibrator was thrilling. At best, he would react positively to the photo, at worse he might be slightly upset, or even insulted that she had purchased the item.
Either way, when he came home, he would no doubt have a few things to say, or do, about it.
Brooklyn looked at the time, and smiled. She still had enough time left in her day to run to the spa to get her waxing and her nails done, before she had to go pick up Juliana. Packing up all the items off the bed back into the bag she had brought them home in, she slid the bag under the bed, and picked up her messenger bag.
She couldn't wait for Steve to get home, now.
A/N; Vote, comment, drop me a line and tell me how your week is going, lol. Hope you all enjoy a little bit of Brooklyn tying up loose ends!