Chapter 15: Empty
“Alright, let's do this.” Brooklyn said, looking up at Warren like a soldier prepared to go to war.
“I don't know...” Warren looked her over, unsure.
“Warren, you promised.” Brooklyn insisted in what was supposed to be a stern way but he just found adorable.
“Brook...” Warren shook his head. “Somehow, the romance is just all gone.”
They were standing in their hotel room, enjoying their day off that Brooklyn had insisted they use to start making their baby. Warren had to admit, his lover never did anything halfway. She had dragged him into her room after Victor left, telling them to enjoy their Sunday but he had a few meetings to attend to before he could take some time off. He didn't need either of them for the meetings so they were supposed to be having a good time.
Spending a day loving Brooklyn was exactly Warren's idea of a good time. However seeing her coming towards him with the look on her face that he was sure surgery patients had, the face that just said 'alright, let's get this over with', he just couldn't bring himself to go through with it.
“Warren.” Brooklyn looked confused, as if she wasn't sure anymore what she was doing. She knew Warren wasn't rejecting her, not really, but he wasn't making love to her either. She wasn't sure how to react to the situation.
“How about we watch some movies or something?” Warren suggested instead. “I'm down for chick flicks. I even enjoy a few of them.”
“Warren, I want you to have sex with me,” Brooklyn said, looking almost angry, “and you are suggesting we watch chick flicks instead? What is wrong with this picture?”
“Brook, I love you more than life.” Warren promised. “And I'm as excited about the baby prospect as you, but this just feels...wrong. Somehow.”
“I thought guys liked sex anytime, anywhere.” Brooklyn crossed her arms unhappily.
She had spent the better part of the morning preparing herself for this both mentally and physically. She was ready, she was eager to do it, why was he saying 'no'?
“Call me a romantic.” Warren leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Let's just enjoy our day off. We don't even have to watch chick flicks. I'm down for action, horror, documentaries; whatever floats your boat.”
“I'm not such a librarian that I watch documentaries for fun.” Brooklyn looked away making him wonder if that was exactly what she did.
“Chick flicks it is then.” Warren pulled her in close as he walked them out of her room and into the common room where the big, flat screen TV just waited for them. “Are you into pure romance and drama or are you a romantic comedy kind of girl?”
“Well, honestly, I don't like either one.” Brooklyn admitted, wondering how she had lost control of the situation so quickly. But she didn't fight him as he sat them both on the couch. He put his feet up on the coffee table, pulled her in closer so that she was curled in on his side, grabbed the remote and began flipping through the channels, trying to find the on demand movies. She had to admit, she was very comfortable and didn't really want to move.
“So what are you in the mood for?” Warren asked, looking down the list of comedies and seeing nothing to catch his interest.
“Well, I like mystery movies.” Brooklyn admitted. “Especially old ones in black and white.”
“Hm...” Warren went to the 'old movies' section and started browsing. “I've never seen one but, why not?, let's check it out.”
And just like that, with Brooklyn still unsure of how it happened, Warren got her to spend the day on the couch laughing with him, watching old black and white films, and eating more junk food than she really should. They talked as the hours passed, they would neck and cuddle when a movie lost their interest, and, for a few hours, Brooklyn allowed herself to stop thinking about all the things that still required her attention.
At one point, they started thinking up names for their as yet unborn child. Names that just got more and more ridiculous as time passed until they were listing names in between fits of laughter.
Warren suggested moving in with her when they returned to Paradise Falls, even going so far as to give her his ideas on where to build the extra room they would need for the baby. It was then that Brooklyn realized she had been planning on doing that without even consulting him on what he might want. She apologized for that assumption but was ecstatic that he was eager to do it the way she wanted without her suggesting it. Things were progressing so fast but Brooklyn didn't want to slow any of it. Everything was happening exactly as she wished.
As they were debating room size, Mr. Ozera called to tell them that business was keeping him later than he expected and that they probably wouldn't see him until morning. Brooklyn had offered to meet up with him, to help take off some of the workload, but he denied the offer claiming that he didn't want to impede on their day off.
Brooklyn felt a bit guilty but Warren assuaged the feeling by simply making her forget it as they made out on the couch like teenagers. Brooklyn tried to press for more than the kissing and petting, not that she wasn't enjoying it, but Warren pulled back when she did so and ordered the ridiculously expensive room service instead.
She asked him why, he kissed her nose and told her to be patient.
Their room service, that was on Mr. Ozera's bill Brooklyn reminded Warren sternly, arrived and they enjoyed a romantic dinner together. Warren lit candles and turned down the lights; Brooklyn put on some soft, dreamy music. Then they sat down, toasted each other with sparkling cider, and enjoyed the steaks Warren had ordered.
As they ate, Brooklyn told Warren about her parents, her two sisters. Warren told her about his parents but had no siblings to talk of as he was an only child.
Afterwords, they danced together in the dim room, Brooklyn practically purring from the romance of the evening as they moved slowly back and forth.
It wasn't until she was actually in it that she noticed that Warren had lead them into her bedroom.
She smiled as he shut and locked the door behind him. With the sweet smell of the candles in the air, the music floating in her head, and the meal still warm in her belly she finally understood what Warren had been waiting for.
She raised her arms to him as their lips and bodies met again in another dance, this one sweet and sensual and primal.
XXXXXXXXXX
“Thank you, again, for letting us up, Robert.” Victor said with a smile as Robert unlocked the executive elevator and all four of them walked inside.
“Of course, Mr. Ozera.” Robert smiled back.
Brooklyn and Warren followed their boss silently. Victor, like a true politician, had a way of getting you, not just to give him what he wanted, but of making you want to do it. Brooklyn still wasn't sure what Victor had said to the normally happily unhelpful Robert but she didn't really care either. The important thing was that she and, most significantly, Warren were finally getting access to the fourth floor records.
Part of her was worried. If Rachel Cohen was part of Intrebari, Brooklyn had no doubt that the obsessively organized Mrs. Cohen would have kept notes of some kind of it. She might even had stored those notes, whether they were encrypted or coded or whatever, in her building as she would feel secure that no one would have access to it. However, a little over two and a half months was more than long enough to clear the records of anything suspicious. She was mentally kicking herself the entire elevator ride up. She should have demanded access to the records the moment she had arrived. A month was still long enough to clear the records, but then she had had the chance that Mrs. Cohen might have waited until she arrived to actually do it.
Then again, it was also likely that Mrs. Cohen never stored records for Intrebari at her home office in the first place and that it wouldn't have mattered if Brooklyn had gotten access the day the inspections were announced. If she started going through the 'maybe's and the 'what if's she would be coming up with scenarios all day.
She knew Jack would tell her to focus on the job at hand, there was nothing she could do about woulda-coulda-shoulda. So she smiled as Victor made small talk with Robert, thought about the paperwork she still needed to complete in her role as assistant, and, of course, thought about her baby.
Halfway through the night, Brooklyn had awoken from an incredibly vivid dream about her holding a baby in the new room on her cottage. She also had dragonfly wings and Warren had been wearing a medieval suit of armor, but that was neither here nor there. It had been a wonderful dream and Brooklyn had been incredibly disappointed that the sound of Victor returning to the hotel room had awakened her from it.
Warren, who had awakened when he felt her moving, had seen the look on her face and asked what was wrong. When she told him, he had smiled and promised it wouldn't just be a dream for long but he was going to have some trouble locating a suit of medieval armor. Brooklyn had laughed and nudged him playfully, he had nudged her back, then it escalated into a full blown wrestling match that Brooklyn had, delightfully, lost.
After that, when Brooklyn was laying against Warren, her head on his shoulder, he had asked her what she was thinking about. She told him she was counting the days since her last period, then the one before that and the one before that, so that she could get a good idea of when she was ovulating so they could plan accordingly.
“Oh, no!” Warren had said sternly. “We are not doing that.”
“Doing what?” Brooklyn had asked, confused.
“We aren't going to have a baby by numbers.” he had rolled them over so he was laying on top of her and he had kissed her nose. “We are going to make love whenever we want, as many times as we want. And when it happens that you get pregnant, it will be a little bit more of a pleasant surprise.”
“How can something we plan be a surprise?” Brooklyn had asked even as she stopped counting in her head. Really, the only reason she had started doing so was because she was already late but she put that more towards the very hectic last two months than any results on their baby.
Brooklyn forced herself back to the present, abandoning the very pleasant memories of the night before, and focused instead on the job at hand.
“We keep the records in the back rooms.” Robert said as they walked from the elevator and into Mrs. Cohen's secretaries office. “I would, of course, be happy to assist you-”
“That won't be necessary.” Brooklyn spoke up, smiling at him. “I can handle it on my own. Really, it will be very boring. I'm just going to make sure everything is in order.”
“I'm sure it will go faster with two-” Robert tried again but Victor interrupted him this time.
“That is an excellent point.” he smiled as if the idea had been all Robert's. “Warren, stay and help Brooklyn won't you.”
“But-” Robert started to say but was cut off by Warren's consenting, “Yes, sir.”
“Actually, I have some business to see to downtown.” Victor said thoughtfully. “Since Brooklyn will be busy, Robert would you mind very much helping me?”
“Oh, Mr. Ozera.” Robert looked stunned. “I couldn't-I mean it would be a pleasure sure, but Mrs. Cohen-”
“Has Melody with her.” Brooklyn finished. “She's going to be at meetings all day herself. I'm sure Victor would find you very helpful for today.”
“Well...I suppose...” Robert said, confused.
“Good, then it's settled.” Victor beamed around at the elevator as if the entire thing hadn't been manipulated by himself. “Brooklyn, be a dear and send Robert my schedule for the day. Thank you very much for helping, Warren. Come, Robert, I'm sure Mr. Teller can show Brooklyn the way.” Victor continued, referring to the male secretary who was looking them over speculatively, obviously not expecting them.
A moment later, the elevator dinged shut behind Mr. Ozera who was talking happily at Robert who still looked confused. Brooklyn smiled over at Mr. Teller and asked, “Can you show us to the records room please?”
XXXXXXXXXX
“As much as I don't like Mrs. Cohen,” Warren said as he typed away on the computer in the records room, “I have to admit I'm very much enjoying not having to sort through mountains of paper. Did you know that Dr. Fontane actually prints his e-mails? Spam too. Just prints them. Who does that?”
“People with mental disorders.” Brooklyn said without looking up from her laptop that she was using at the only desk in the room.
The records room was longer than it was narrow and filled with steel gray filing cabinets. There were no windows in the room and the only sources of light were the computer screens and the one plain fluorescent light bulb that hung limply from the ceiling.
The computer was old, the monitor bulky, and it didn't connect to the wifi that the building used. It's only purpose was storing the records, most if not all of which had a paper copy in the filing cabinets that surrounded it. It was sitting on the desk, moved slightly to the left by Warren to make room for Brooklyn's laptop.
Warren was the one working on the files, Brooklyn was taking the rare moment of spare time to go through her personal e-mails, see how things were progressing in her library, and complete a few assignments for Victor that Robert wouldn't be handling on his day in her job.
“Well, everything on this computer seems to check out.” Warren changed the subject as he leaned back and stretched. “That only took...wow, five hours. Compared to the two weeks it took me on Dr. Fontane, that was ridiculously easy.
“Do you want to finish going through the filing cabinets?” Brooklyn asked, looking up from her laptop.
“I don't think we need to.” Warren shrugged. They had started by checking to see if the papers in the file cabinets were all in the computer. Halfway through the first one, every single paper they had come across had been scanned into the computer, so Warren had called a halt to digging through the cabinets and focused instead on going through the computer.
“I looked at everything you looked at, I would be able to see if they were in the computer or not.” Brooklyn told him. “It wouldn't be hard.”
“It would be boring and time consuming.” Warren said, leaning on his hand and playing with her hair with the other.
“You have something better to do today?” Brooklyn asked with a smile as she closed her laptop and stood up.
“One or two things come to mind.” Warren laughed but didn't protest as she went back to digging through the file cabinets but faster this time as she didn't have to wait for him to look up the paper she was holding.
A few hours later, Brooklyn was finishing up on the second to last drawer on the last filing cabinet. Warren had long ago started using her laptop to see to his own e-mails then check on the prices for adding a room on a house.
He had been throwing out ideas to her as she worked; baby names, room designs, colors for the room. “We should get married.” he said suddenly making Brooklyn's fingers fumble on the papers she was trying to separate so she could see them.
“Sorry?” Brooklyn asked. “You want to run that by me again?”
“I said, we should get married.” Warren repeated as he looked away from the computer to her stunned face. He smiled almost mockingly, “What, you can just ask for a baby but I can't ask to get married?”
“People don't usually ask with so little consideration.” Brooklyn smiled back knowing her words were slightly hypocritical.
“Who said that there was little consideration?” Warren asked, his smile turning sly.
Brooklyn laughed as she closed the drawer and reached for the last one. “Why do you want to get married?”
“Why wouldn't I want to get married?” Warren returned. “People who love each other and who want babies have been marrying each other for hundreds of years.”
“What a way to propose.” Brooklyn laughed as she pulled on the drawer but it didn't open. “Hm...” She pulled again but the drawer remained firmly shut. “It's locked.”
“The proposal is locked?” Warren repeated. “Is that a yes?”
“No.” Brooklyn looked dryly at him. “The drawer is locked.”
“So, it's a no?” Warren asked, trying to get an answer.
“Focus.” Brooklyn reminded him, punctuating the sentence by tugging uselessly on the locked drawer.
“Is it bad of me to want an answer?” Warren asked but he stood up and went to her side at the locked drawer. “I thought girls dreamed of their weddings. Is this reluctance a human thing?”
Brooklyn let go of the drawer and wrapped her hands around Warren's neck instead. “I want a baby first. We can get married after that.”
“You really want a baby, huh?” Warren asked gently, holding her. “I didn't realize you wanted one that badly.”
“I didn't either.” Brooklyn laughed. “Actually, now that I think about it, I want lots of babies.”
“Lots?” Warren repeated chuckling. “Define lots.”
“Lots, as in you better put a cap on how many kids we can have because I'm not going to want to stop if you don't stop me.” Brooklyn snuggled into his neck.
“I've heard many people say that until they get that first kid and they find out how much work it really is.” he told her.
“That wasn't a cap.” Brooklyn pointed out.
“It wasn't.” Warren agreed. “We'll have a baby, then get married, then have another baby. You work fast, my love.”
“I know what I want, why shouldn't I try to get it?” Brooklyn asked logically.
“Well, let's see to this drawer so we can go back and get to work on that big family.” Warren winked at her.
“It's locked.” Brooklyn repeated, turning her attention back to the drawer. “It's probably nothing but...”
“Jack wouldn't forgive us for just saying that and walking away.” Warren finished for her.
Without asking, Warren reached into Brooklyn's hair and pulled out a hairpin she used to keep the hair on the nape of her neck up off of her neck.
“Hey.” Brooklyn protested slightly as those few strands of hair fell.
“I need it.” Warren bent the hair pen into a right angle and put one end into the lock.
“How do you know how to do that?” Brooklyn couldn't help but ask.
“It's one of the many skills Jack passed on to me.” Warren smiled as he wiggle the pin in the lock.
A few moments later, the lock turned and Warren pulled open the drawer with a victorious smile.
They looked inside at nothing.
“It's empty.” Brooklyn sighed as she sat back. “Darn. I was kind of hoping for some damning, irrefutable evidence.”
“Well, it's not damning or irrefutable but it is evidence.” Warren, not really expecting anything, reached inside and felt around the corners.
“How is this evidence?” Brooklyn asked when he pulled back his hand, empty.
“Who locks an empty drawer?” Warren pointed out. “There's no dust, no cobwebs; there used to be something in here and, when they took it out, they must have locked it out of habit.”
“So we have something but it might be nothing.” Brooklyn stood up. “We'll tell Jack anyway but-”
“What are you doing?!”
Brooklyn jumped and both of them turned to see Mrs. Cohen standing furiously in the doorway, her fists shaking with anger.
“Good evening, Mrs. Cohen.” Brooklyn said, pulling herself together as quickly as she could.
“Who let you onto this floor?” Mrs. Cohen demanded to know as she stomped into the room.
“That hardly matters.” Brooklyn walked towards her, her hands clasped calmly in front of her. She heard Warren shut the drawer and stand up. She knew he would be just a step behind her. “We were doing our job. I assure you, Victor knows where we are.”
“These are my records!” Mrs. Cohen snapped. Brooklyn almost felt proud of the little vein she saw jumping in the other woman's forehead. “That drawer was locked!”
“Why are you getting so jumpy about an empty drawer?” Brooklyn asked innocently.
She saw the realization come into Mrs. Cohen's eyes and could visibly see the other woman relax when Brooklyn reminded her of that.
“You should not have been in my records.” Mrs. Cohen said, still angry but it was a much calmer anger now. Brooklyn didn't need to be told by Warren that Mrs. Cohen had definitely been hiding something in that locked drawer until very recently. “You had no right-”
“I had every right.” Brooklyn cut her off. She couldn't keep herself from feeling slightly smug over Mrs. Cohen. The drawer may have been empty and all they had was her reaction at seeing them in it, but Brooklyn knew that would be enough to raise Jack's suspicions. “Victor gave me that right.”
“You are a very rude little girl, Brooklyn.” Mrs. Cohen told her with a sneer. “You may be Victor's favorite pet but you'll be back in that dusty library of yours in a month. Then I'll be your superior again and-”
“Be very careful with your next words, Rachel.” Brooklyn cut her off and she saw that vein in Mrs. Cohen's forehead start going again at the use of her first name. “You may be able to treat your own people like this, but I won't stand for it.” Brooklyn couldn't stop herself from baiting her. She wasn't sure where this courage was coming from but she wasn't about to let herself stop. She was, perversely, having too much fun.
“Little girls should learn respect.” Mrs. Cohen snarled at her.
“I suppose you are my elder.” Brooklyn smirked.
Mrs. Cohen's hand moved so quickly that Brooklyn barely had time to register the incoming slap. However, she didn't need to as Warren, always just a step behind her, saw it coming before she did and snatched Mrs. Cohen's hand in mid-air.
“That will be about enough.” he said, his voice more serious and threatening than Brooklyn had ever heard it.
“Get your filthy hands off me, haltija.” Mrs. Cohen growled at him.
“I doubt Mr. Ozera would appreciate you behaving this way, Mrs. Cohen.” Warren said. He didn't seem to notice the disrespectful way she had addressed the mythic but Brooklyn's eyebrow had raised at the words. “We were finished anyway. We'll just be leaving.”
Warren released Mrs. Cohen's hand and Brooklyn could see where his hand hand been for just a moment because Mrs. Cohen's skin had turned white from the strength of his hold.
Without arguing, she wasn't really up to physically fighting Mrs. Cohen anyway, Brooklyn led Warren out of the room, grabbing her laptop off the desk as she went.
No sooner had the door shut behind them, closing Mrs. Cohen in, then Warren had his hand around Brooklyn's arm and he was leading her to the elevator.
They didn't say a word to each other until they stepped out of the building, his grip still firm, but not hurtful, on her.
“Okay, I get it.” Brooklyn said as they began walking back to the hotel, or until they came to a cab whatever came first. “I shouldn't have baited her. I'm sorry.”
“What?” Warren looked back at her surprised. “No. It's not that.”
How could he explain to her that, in that moment that Mrs. Cohen lifted her hand to strike Brooklyn, Warren had very nearly snapped her wrist. It had taken all of his self control to hold the woman's wrist without bruising it. He didn't mind watching Brooklyn taunting Mrs. Cohen. He had thought it fun to watch their battle of wits and words. However, the moment Mrs. Cohen tried to hurt his Brooklyn, he had felt a surge of hatred so strong that it was a wonder he had been able to control himself at all. He had only steered Brooklyn from the room to keep himself from harming Mrs. Cohen.
“I'm not mad at you, Brooklyn.” Warren promised her with a tense smile. “Let's just get back to the hotel. We'll call Jack and tell him what we-”
The pipe swung down out of the shadow of the alley without warning, slamming hard against Warren's head knocking him to the ground.
Brooklyn yelled his name without thought.
The man in the shadows, a terribly familiar man, grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her into the alley.