**Oh yeah, I'm just on a sequeling role lately haha! I've really thought long and hard about this one because What Lies Beneath has always held a special place in my heart. I never thought Mark and Brooklynn's story was finished, not by a long shot. So, years of battling with myself on whether or not to do a sequel to this story, here it is! I hope you all enjoy it!**

Coalesce
~Sequel to What Lies Beneath~

Chapter 1

Seventeen years of peace and quiet, besides the occasional spirit finding their way to the Calaway/Meyers home. Most of them were calm and just confused about what to do after death. Brooklynn had to guide them into the light and it normally didn't take more than a day or two, every couple of months. She was now in her early 40's, Mark in his late 40's, and happier than ever with just their daughter. Brooklynn refused to have any more children after Claira. She was their one and only; pregnancy hadn't been kind to Brooklynn and it took her a while to get back to her old self after it was all said and done.

Her paranoia had skyrocketed because of her powers and she actually sent spirits away, not wanting them anywhere near her baby girl. It wasn't until Mark threatened to leave her that Brooklynn snapped out of her paranoia and fear, beginning to get back into the swing of things. He had snapped her back to reality and assured her everything was fine, that nothing bad would happen to her or Claira. Brooklynn had a breakdown, her and Mark made things right between them and all was right in the world again.

Everything was perfectly fine and normal with Claira, up to date on her shots, all doctor's appointments on time for both regular checkups and whenever she got sick. However, at age 4, Claira told her mother and father she started seeing people in her room, floating around. They were spirits. Now Brooklynn didn't jump to conclusions because she knew children not more than 5 could see and hear spirits. This continued, however, past the age of 5 for Claira and when she turned 7, Brooklynn taught her daughter the ways of crossing spirits over. It scared Claira at first, but she quickly cottoned on, especially when children visited her in order to be crossed over. It was sad, but Claira was a natural at it and her father had even said she had the same gift her mother did, maybe even better.

Besides that, no other powers surfaced until she turned 14-years-old. Claira had also inherited the ability of her father, his warlock powers. She was a witch as well as spirit guide like her mother. Both sides of them had hammered her, and it was a lot for the girl to take in. Mark was the one who had to show her the way and stop her from destroying their house, which they now lived in Dallas, Texas. Claira had been terrified, not understanding why the lights were flickering in her room or she could move objects with her mind. Brooklynn felt hopeless, not knowing how to help her daughter and was thankful Mark was here to guide her through the same way she'd been when Claira began crossing spirits over. It took a while, but Claira was starting to get the hang of her powers on both ends. She was now 16, raging with hormones, had a boyfriend in high school and rebelling against her parents.

Life with a teenager was beyond hell. Mark had no idea women were so nasty until he raised one. Whatever grossness Brooklynn had, she kept hidden. Not the teenager, oh hell no.

"For fuck's sake…" He groaned, looking down at the bottom of his bare foot.

Claira was off to school, all bright and early, as was her routine, and he had emerged finally from the bedroom, barefoot in his pajama bottoms. He had made the mistake of entering the bathroom first and that had been a disaster. Staring at the bottom of his foot, Mark was pretty sure that was a pantyliner he had stepped on… and those were not Brooklynn's panties on the floor.

"BROOKLYNN!" He handled the magic, she handled the grossness. "Get it OFF ME!" Mark zapped the thing with a spark from his fingertip, watching as it charred and bounced.

Brooklynn was downstairs, busy cleaning up from breakfast and dropped the pan in the sink, rushing upstairs to stare at her boyfriend in shock. "What the…what is that?" She rubbed her temples, wearing a pair of black cotton shorts and a magenta tank top. Her black hair pulled up in a messy do on top of her head to keep it out of the food she'd cooked. "What exactly did you call me up here for, if you could zap the damn thing with your magic? I'll talk to her," Again. "About cleaning up her mess when she's done. Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

Grunting, Mark took in the bathroom, groaning. Claira was sort of like her mother, but she had definitely picked up some attributes from her Aunt Mickie and Trish. Such as being a makeup and hair girl, which wound up everywhere. He was considering throttling the pair of them, if they happened to cross paths anytime soon.

"Sorry." He apologized before shutting the door and handling his business. When he emerged, Mark followed his nose to the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his woman and kissed the side of her neck, just beneath her ear. "That's like… 3 months in a row now, darlin'. I'm pretty sure at this point, she's doing it to piss me off."

He was not above retaliating because Mark was that type of person. When Claira had first started getting periods, she had tacked a bunch of magazine adverts for tampons and pads all over her door. He had no idea where that had come from, but it hadn't been amusing.

"I don't doubt it." Brooklynn sounded resigned, sighing softly at the feeling of his lips against her neck, her ear, and dropped the pan again before turning around to look up in his eyes. Beautiful emerald gems. She accepted the passionate kiss he gave her and felt his hands lift her to plant her on the counter, Mark standing between her legs as they continued kissing. "Last night…wasn't enough for you?" She moaned out, sliding her hand up his bare back to bury her fingers in his hair and felt his mouth attach to her neck.

Their sex life was on track; it was the one thing that had never fizzled out, even dealing with Claira's antics.

"Mmm, never enough…" He growled, working his way down her throat, across her shoulders, his fingers slowly sliding the straps to her tank top down her arms. No matter what was going on, Mark never seemed to get enough of her and, the older they got, it was like they kept hitting their strides, if they ever actually ended. "Do you want me to stop?" It wasn't really a question, they both knew she didn't, not really.

"No, I really don't, but…you need to decide if sex or food is more important since you're pressed for time to get to the shop." Brooklynn informed him with a smirk, feeling him very reluctantly pull back from her and rested his forehead against hers, stroking his face with the back of her hand. "Food it is." Giggling, she pecked his goatee covered chin and jumped from the counter to start making his plate, not surprised to receive a slap to her backside. "Sit down, eat, go to work and tonight, we can pick up where we left off."

Setting a plate of eggs, bacon, toast and hash browns down in front of him, Brooklynn already ate and continued cleaning her kitchen. He had been meaning for years to study the concept of time, the theories, just so he could figure out a way of doing a temporary stasis spell or something, for moments like this. Just so he could suspend time for a bit and fuck her senseless. Mark could swear there was a knowing smirk on her beautiful lips and growled, his emerald eyes watching her sway around the kitchen while he ate.

"Teasing wench."

"What was that?"

Brooklynn looked back at him while she continued putting away the clean dishes, shaking her head with a smile. It was a beautiful country home with three bedrooms, full kitchen, living room, dining room and a huge three car garage where Mark stored his motorcycles along with her car. Very rarely did he drive anymore, it was always riding. Her sexy man straddled on his bike in leather…Brooklynn shivered at that image and had to shake herself mentally, cheeks flushing.

"Teasing," Mark speared a piece of bacon on his fork, gesturing at her with it, a grin on his face. "Wench."

Then he popped it all in his mouth, eyeballing his plate. He had it a bit too good sometimes, especially on days she did steak for breakfast, his stomach rumbled. Mark was a typical man: food and sex, and shotgun for the daughter's boyfriend. His eyes lit up. He wondered how that relationship would fair if the teen idiot knew Claira left pantyliners on the bathroom floor. Figuring maybe he'd give her something to think about, something to consider before she did it again, Mark began setting his plan in motion.

"Mark…" Brooklynn's voice held warning, seeing the look on his face and knew him like the back of her hand. Better than anyone – that's what being together for 17 years did to a couple. "I know you're not happy with Claira right now, but retaliating against her is not the answer." She rubbed his shoulders, down his arms and kissed the side of his neck, wrapping them around his neck completely. NOW she was being a teasing wench and giggled at his grumbling, burying her nose in his hair. "Please let me talk to her first. If she doesn't start cleaning up after herself, I'll punish her, okay? And you can do whatever your wicked mind is coming up with."

"Darlin', 3 times in a row is 3 times too many." He remarked calmly, now busy with his eggs and toast, trying to ignore her teasing. This wasn't fair. The woman shouldn't be able to torment him like this to get her way. "I oughta sick Bastet on her is what I should do." Mark grumbled, hearing her laughing and looked around for his very, very old Familiar, and keeper of his darker side. He was considering getting his daughter one, but was also a bit afraid of her using the animal for the wrong reasons if she got a hormonal, teenage burr up her backside.

"Scoot back." Brooklynn wasn't surprised when he did and swung her leg over to straddle his lap, after taking a piece of bacon to trace his lips with it. "I agree with you, okay? I know it's 3 times too many, but at least let me have a talk with her, before you do something that will make her rebel against us more." He growled, chomping the bacon and caressed his chest and shoulders. Even at 47, this man was still chiseled out of stone and had a delicious body she enjoyed sinking her teeth into…in various places. "You know I'm on your side with it. It's disgusting, I agree, so let me try to handle it first. And leave Bastet out of this. If she does it again, I'll let you have free reign to do whatever you want…as long as it's not abusive."

"Me? Abusive?" His green eyes widened innocently, though acid flickered for just a minute, a hint of his rather cruel nature showing. However, when it came to his daughter, more trickster then dick. Not that Claira would see a difference, she was at that age where parents were obviously out to get her.

"Last time, Brooklynn, she either knocks it off and quits assaulting me with used feminine hygiene products or I AM sicking Bastet on her." His eyes strayed to the ancient cat, who would live as long as he did, winking when she meowed at him.

"She didn't assault you. You stepped in her…garbage, which she should've picked up. It wasn't assault, ass." She smacked his chest, shaking her head at how ridiculous he was being, but Brooklynn loved him anyway. "Finish eating and then get your ass upstairs to change for work." Pecking his lips, she got off his lap and finished up putting the dishes away, her stove, counters and table already wiped off. "And just remember, she has your powers, so she can retaliate back at you. And I don't need a witch/warlock war going on in my house. I'll kick both of your asses if one thing gets broken in here."

"She has a fraction of my powers." He corrected with a smirk. Magic grew with time, kind of like they did. "And none of my control." That made Claira a magical Hulk of sorts, and he'd be Tony Magical Stark and nail her ass with a Hulk Buster, if it came to that. Laughing under his breath at the mental image, Mark headed upstairs to go get ready to go to work, scooping up Bastet on his way. "You're getting fat, you old rag." He informed her with a grunt.

Whipping out her cell phone, Brooklynn texted her daughter and informed her they would be having a conversation after school. She would be picking her up, her boyfriend could go a day without driving her home, which is what usually happened. Seth Rollins. They'd been together for the past 6 months; he'd lived in Dallas all of his life, going to school with Claira, but they hadn't acknowledged each other until high school and started dating. Mark had thoroughly interrogated the boy until he was blue in the face, testing him in his own way before being reassured he was just a regular, normal teenage boy. Seth was all right in Brooklynn's book, but she still had this weird vibe from him she couldn't explain. She didn't tell Mark or anyone about it, not wanting him thinking she was paranoid again.

Claira looked at her phone, saw it was a text from her mother and flipped it open to read since she was in the hallway in between classes. "Great, what did I do now?" She muttered, putting her phone away and went to class, grumbling.

With the Master gone, Bastet tended to follow Brooklynn around, if she wasn't napping. Her emerald green eyes were still sharp, as was her other senses; she was just a bit more… pudgy. Purring, Bastet brushed her head against Brooklynn's leg after the female had completed her text. She didn't overly care for the young male human either, he smelled weird. Bastet had informed her Master of that once, and he had laughed, saying it was that dormant part of his psyche in her reacting to the fact the teenage daughter had a boyfriend.

Brooklynn had a connection with Bastet that nobody would ever understand. This cat saved Mark's life and, for that, she was well fed and loved. She smiled, lifting Bastet up on her lap and scratched her behind her ears, kissing the top of her head. Claira wanted a dog for a long time and Brooklynn wondered if her Familiar Mark planned on giving her would be that type of animal. Bastet would not be happy if that was the case. Mark came downstairs a few minutes later, dropped a kiss on her lips on his way out the door and made sure to grab his lunch in the process.

"You hungry girl? Come on, let's go get you some fresh water and food." She carried the cat into the kitchen, setting her on the counter while filling up her water bowl.

In the process, she also grabbed a snack for Bastet from the cupboard and let her take it out of her hand with a smile.

Bastet's connection to Brooklynn lay in the fact that she was her Master's mate and not much else. Oh, and treats, lots of treats, and tummy rubs. Bastet kept eyes and ears on the female while the Master was away; if there were problems, that psychic link between them would let him know. But the treats were awesome, Bastet liked treats. Yawning, she sat back on her haunches, on the counter, watching Brooklynn finish tidying up the counter.

When she comes back with Claira, let me know.