30: Love in Miami

The flight down to Miami took a couple of hours. The plane was a small, private affair with a modestly sized passenger section that carried the essentials and a decent amount of legroom. Brooklyn spent the flight sitting across from Sophie, who spent a good portion of it asleep in her chair. The night's events had taken their toll on both of them, whilst their more dubious companions remained upbeat and active.

Dingo and Jane were seated nearby, with the latter spending a much of the flight talking hurriedly. Apparently, killing a bunch of arms dealers had raised her spirits. Dingo appeared positively calm, gulping down an Australian-made beer whilst reading from a copy of A Farewell to Arms. The man was both ruthless mercenary and reader of classic literature, which only further confused Brooklyn's opinion of the man.

Xanatos and Owen were near the pilot's cabin. Xanatos had cracked open a bottle of champagne, having offered some to Brooklyn and the others. He had mentioned something about a 'good night's work', something that had rubbed the gargoyle the wrong way. As such, he had declined the offer. Sophie did the same, more so from a desire to avoid booze in general.

It was some relief when they finally touched down at a private airport in Miami. The city was still under the cover of darkness, with the first clock Brooklyn saw telling him it was just past four in the morning. He was tired, and he clasped at the pendant he wore, thinking about taking it off for the day once he was settled. Stone-sleep would make him feel better; either that, or he could sleep like a human being and see if that had the same effect. Now there was a simple experiment he could try. Nonetheless, something told him he would be well distracted by the time they reached whatever accommodations Xanatos had arranged for them.

Sophie woke up with a start, looking a little annoyed at the interruption. She joined the group at the waiting taxi by the private airport's terminal. In this case, it was not a regular taxi, more of an actual van that housed plenty of room for Xanatos' wheelchair bound self as well as Brooklyn's overall bulk. The driver hardly gave Brooklyn a second glance as he climbed aboard. The drive took about ten minutes, something that might normally have taken longer had it not been the early hours of the morning. Peak hour was still a few hours away, so the highways were mostly clear and the streets quiet. Brooklyn had never been to Miami, or to Florida for that matter. One thing he noticed right away was the heat. Even at this early hour, it was far warmer than it had been in New York City. From what he had heard of Miami, the summers here could become sweltering.

The motel they were taken to was a cheap sort on the western edge of the city, well away from the beaches and lavish nightlife that the city was often known for. No, this motel was very much a rudimentary setup, little more than a plain two-storey rectangular building with a parking lot at the front. The 'Vacancy' signed flashed a stark neon red, with another sign under it announcing the motel's many noteworthy amenities, such as air conditioning and free wireless Internet.

The taxi deposited the group in the parking lot, with Owen moving on ahead to check them in. Jane and Dingo began to unload the crates of merchandise, specifically the items that had been provided to them by the arms dealers. Xanatos might not have been as wealthy as he had once been, but he still had enough money to buy a pilot who asked no questions and a cab driver who asked even less. One thing Brooklyn had learned very quickly in this modern world was that with the right amount of money, you could get just about anything you wanted.

Standing out in the lot, Brooklyn was joined by Sophie, who followed his gaze to the road running by the motel. The other side of the street was taken up with some small, modest homes along with a block of storefronts down by the corner. The sky was still dark, and he felt Sophie's hand fall upon his shoulder.

"I've never been to Miami before," she said. "Doesn't look like much in this part of town, huh?"

"I'm sure it'll look better in the sun," Brooklyn replied, turning to her. She was smiling at him, and he returned the gesture. Despite what had happened this past night, Sophie still managed to be in good spirits. And, in turn, he felt his mood lift accordingly. She could do that to him, it seemed; make him feel better just by flashing her winning smile.

Owen returned then, a few keys in one hand.

"We have three nieghbouring rooms, on the upper floor," he announced. "Numbers fourteen, fifteen and sixteen." He handed one of the keys to Sophie. "I suppose you can take sixteen, Jane and Dingo can have fifteen."

"What if we want sixteen, and not fifteen?" It was Jane who asked this. She was, of course, grinning broadly when she said it. Owen frowned, looking something like a disappointed parent unamused by their child's attempt at humour.

"They're identical rooms, more or less," Owen replied. He handed her the keys to fifteen, whilst keeping those for fourteen. "Each has two beds, so there shouldn't be any issues."

"What about the goods?" Dingo gestured to the plastic crates stacked by the footpath that ran along the front of the ground floor rooms, each containing the various 'merchandise' acquired from the deal earlier in the evening.

"Take them to number fourteen," Xanatos instructed. "We'll meet there at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. For now, everybody get some rest. It's been a long night." He looked to Brooklyn and Sophie, offering them both his familiar, if a little too-pleased smile. "Once again, excellent work. I couldn't have asked for a better outcome."

Before either Brooklyn or Sophie could reply, he was heading off on his motorised wheelchair. Owen followed close behind, the pair going for the wheelchair access ramp towards the far end of the building. Dingo and Jane began to take up the boxes of equipment again, with the Australian shooting a stern glance at Brooklyn.

"You mind giving me a hand, big guy?" He asked him. Brooklyn kept a straight face, despite his desire to leave Dingo alone to struggle with the equipment. While they carried off some of the boxes, Sophie was left out in the lot with Jane. The latter hefted up one of the remaining cases, before turning to Sophie.

She was smiling again, and it was a look that Sophie did not find particularly endearing. There was something a little unhinged about it, the smile more befitting someone being kept in an insane asylum than an apparent assassin.

"Tell me, officer," she said, a slight mocking tone to her voice. "You and the gargoyle. Are you fucking him?"

The question caught Sophie well off-guard. She frowned, not sure if she should feel offended or not. Jane found her reaction amusing, if the short laugh she gave was anything to go by.

"I mean, if you're not I'll gladly ride that beast," she remarked, and Sophie found herself even more bemused. "Those gargoyles, they're so masculine, you know? Gets me all excited." She did a little shake then for emphasis, all while Sophie watched her with some increasing doubt as to the younger woman's state of mind.

"There's something very wrong with you," Sophie said, her voice a little quieter than she had intended.

Jane rolled her eyes, giving a derisive snort in turn.

"What's the matter? Did I offend your sensibilities?" She started for the stairwell partway along the building, container in her arms. "Look, if you're with him that's fine. But, if you're ever open for a threesome, let me know."

Sophie lingered for a moment longer out in the lot, watching Jane head up to her room. There was something wrong with that girl, that much was clear. Either that, or she was simply trying to make her uncomfortable for the fun of it. Her instincts told her that it was a little bit of both.

The room was small and basic, like so many of its kind. Brooklyn closed the door behind him, before he paused by the window and glanced out onto the parking lot and street beyond. A quiet neighbourhood, he surmised. And a poorer one at that, judging from the overall look of the place and the hodgepodge of small, older houses and grungy shopfronts along the road. Well beyond the squat, mostly one-storey buildings could be seen the downtown Miami skyline, all gleaming glass towers. Each was adorned with a dazzling array of lights, while up above a passenger jet roared on by, descending for the international airport.

"Cosy." Sophie stopped by one of the two beds, taking in the mostly plain, beige room. Aside from the beds, there was a small kitchenette at one end and near that, a door that led into an even smaller bathroom. Brooklyn closed the blinds, shutting out the glow of the streetlights outside. The lights in the room provided a diminished, yellow-hued illumination.

"You going to get some sleep?" She turned around to face him, curious. "Do you even need sleep, now that you've got that thing?"

"I'll sleep, sure," Brooklyn replied, and he stepped towards her. "There was something else I had in mind, though."

Now she smiled. Sophie put a hand to his chest, finding the zipper on the navy-blue vest he wore.

"And what would that be, Brook?"

Brooklyn smirked, meeting her increasingly attentive eyes.

"That would be, my dear, a shower first and foremost," he announced, his tone playful. He brushed past her then, unzipping the vest before placing it aside upon a coat-hanger set on the nearest wall. "I'd like to wash off what's happened tonight, if you know what I mean."

"Sure." Sophie remained standing in the bedroom/living area, arms crossed over her chest. "Just don't take too long, all right? I might get bored, maybe I'll have to call Jane in to spice things up."

Brooklyn paused on the threshold of the bathroom, turning to Sophie with some confusion. Sophie was grinning broadly.

"Just something she said. She was joking, I think." Sophie shrugged. "I might join you, but that shower looks barely big enough for you."

"Yeah, well, I'll make do." Brooklyn did not close the door all the way as he stripped off his somewhat dirty black shorts. Something told him Sophie might appreciate the view, and the thought alone was enough to get him feeling a little giddy. The one positive out of this mess they had found themselves in was her, or rather, what they had together. He was going to make the most of it at every chance he got, especially after they had had a narrow brush with death in the form of those disgruntled arms dealers.

The water was refreshing, to say the least. He allowed it to soak him totally, his long white hair sticking against him, the dirt and sweat and even blood of the night's events draining away. He had the pendant off for now, yet as soon as he was out and drying himself off, he made sure to put it on. Sunrise was only a couple of hours away and he did not intend on turning to stone just yet, not when he had a beautiful woman to tend to.

He emerged from the bathroom mostly dry and devoid of any clothing, wings spread and eyes searching the room eagerly for Sophie. She stood by the beds, both of which she had moved such that they were pressed up against one another. Brooklyn saw that she was now wearing his vest, although it appeared she had nothing else on under it. His eyes took in her bare, slender legs, not to mention the very apparent cleavage visible at where the vest hung partially open at her chest.

She turned to him, making a show of it.

"Does it suit me?" She asked him, her own gaze taking in his bare, muscular form. Brooklyn tilted his head slightly, noticing with some amusement just how large the garment looked on her.

"It's a little big, I think," he replied, taking a few steps towards her.

"Well, it was made for a certain, pleasingly large gargoyle." She smirked, and Brooklyn leaned towards her and kissed her lightly, doing so as best he could with his beaklike mouth. His hands found the opening of the vest, pushing it aside, allowing it to fall from her. Now naked before her, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her close, revelling in the sensation of his skin against hers. And her scent, something vaguely soapy with that underlying twinge of human sweat.

His need for her pressed firmly against the inside of her thigh. He felt her move a hand there, clutching at his sizeable manhood. She started to stroke it slowly, and the sensation was enough to make Brooklyn let out a quiet groan. He needed her so badly, after everything that had happened he needed her…

He pushed her gently then, throwing her down upon the bed before him. She landed spread-eagled, a laugh escaping her at the sudden show of dominance. Her legs were partly spread, baring herself to him, visibly moistened by her own arousal. Brooklyn went to move upon her but Sophie suddenly rolled over, propping herself upon all fours, raising her backside towards him. He got the message, and he mounted the bed behind her, hands roaming over her back and her sides before grasping at her breasts, massaging them gently as he allowed his aching length to brush against her warm core. He heard a needy whimper escape from her then, and Brooklyn caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror on the wall to their right. He could see her face in it there, the way she bit at her bottom lip in anticipation.

"Not big on the foreplay, are you?" He asked her, putting one hand to his length, slowly guiding the tip to her slick heat.

"Damn it Brook, I've got needs." Sophie sounded a little impatient. "I almost got killed earlier. Least you could do is give a woman what she wants."

Unable to keep himself from smiling wide, his male pride swelling, he eased himself into her. He gasped at the sensation, amazed at the way her inner walls clasped him tightly. He might have been a little larger than what she might have been equipped for, and as such he took it slow, savouring every movement. His hands went from her breasts to her hips, clutching her tightly, his wings currently relaxed behind him. He looked to the mirror again, seeing her face in it, the way her it had scrunched up somewhat from the mounting tension and rising pleasure. The bed creaked noisily under their movements, with Brooklyn fighting the urge to simply pound into her. She might have wanted that quick release, but he was willing to drag things out a little longer than that.

Sophie's groans became very audible cries as his pace increased, her back arching and her breaths short and hurried.

"Ah, shit, Brooklyn…" Most of what she said after that was incoherent, her eyes closing as the pressure mounted, nearing the release she sought so readily.

He felt her close tightly around his length then, her orgasm taking her by surprise. Her hands clutched tightly at the bed sheets, and had she claws like he did they would have been thoroughly destroyed. Brooklyn allowed himself to let go shortly after her, his wings flaring out around him and his eyes adopting their brilliant white glow as he pushed deep into her, releasing inside her. He emitted a loud roar, throwing his head back as he lost control. And then he was panting, the glow in his eyes fading, his heart pounding. He leaned over her and she turned her head, allowing them to press their lips together for a long, desperate kiss.

Sophie's body had adopted a thin layer of sweat, the heat in the room seeming more intense than it had when they had come in. Even with the air-conditioning on, the room was stuffy at best.

Brooklyn, panting, pulled out of her and allowed the woman to fall flat upon the sheets, riding on her high. He lay down next to her, the joined single beds making for a still narrow space to lie on. Sophie turned her head towards him, her hair appearing a little bedraggled and her face bearing a look of pleased satisfaction. She moved against his side, putting an arm to his chest.

Was this the time to say it? Brooklyn met her eyes, seeing something in them that spoke of something more than just physical intimacy. What surprised him then was what she said instead, whispering the words to him, her voice purely sincere:

"I love you, Brooklyn."

Maybe it was the breathless high that had been brought on by sex that had driven her to say it, little more a heat-of-the-moment action. Regardless, hearing it from her made Brooklyn's heart soar. He rolled to face her, placing an arm around her and drawing her in for another kiss. Sophie gently broke from it after she had had her fill of him, looking him in the eyes with a smirk.

"And I love you," Brooklyn replied. Her hands roamed down his muscular frame, and Sophie let out a short laugh.

"I guess we've really done it now, huh?" She began to trail lazy circles on his chest with the fingers of one hand. "But there's no use denying it, really. I've been thinking about it a lot, especially after the other night. If there's ever going to be a man I truly love, it's going to be you. There's no one I'd rather have at my side."

The pair lay there content for a good ten minutes, all lingering touches and gentle caresses. It was still dark out, the neighbourhood quiet, the atmosphere still. Even after what they had shared, Brooklyn felt some small, deeply held doubts. It came from being burned once too often with prior loves, as it was something he had never been very lucky with. There had been the occasional visit to Avalon, where he had met more than one alluring female of his clan, but he had never been able to see himself settling with any of them. He had coasted along in life for so many years, never feeling what he would describe as 'true' love despite the natural urges he and every other gargoyle (and human, for that matter) carried.

And much like him, Sophie had never felt truly in love for any of the small handful of men she had become involved with in the past. Flings, and only a handful, nothing serious or lasting. To her, Brooklyn was the most trusting friend she had and one who had saved her sorry behind on more than one occasion. If trouble arose, then Brooklyn would be there for her, ready to snatch her out of harm's way no matter what it took. Recent events had only driven Sophie to take full hold of the feelings she had for him, to put away any doubts she had had with becoming intimate with a gargoyle. After their first night together at the motel in Vermont, he had very much dominated her thoughts. It was the kind of desire she had not felt since her younger teenage years. With Brooklyn able to gleam that kind of effect from her, she knew she had found the right man. As for the baggage it carried, that with the job (or lack thereof at the moment) and the fact he was a gargoyle, she would have to wait and see.

Brooklyn felt that hunger again, and Sophie seemed to have the same idea. She nudged him onto his back, her hands roaming to his crotch, taking hold of his rapidly hardening length. She lay across him, stroking it steadily. He watched her carefully, noting the wry smirk she wore and the way she looked him in the eyes as she gradually worked him over. He moved his hips with her, heart racing, lying sprawled upon his back as his lover massaged him in the most sensitive of places. Her touch was like heaven upon him, and he found himself groaning as her grip tightened, a look of firm concentration appearing upon her face.

He finished in her palm, growling whilst his eyes flared their familiar, brilliant white. Hips jerking, the orgasm came upon him a little stronger than he thought it would be. He watched as his seed spilled over her hand, some of it dripping onto the sheets below. Sophie smiled at him, apparently satisfied with this, before she lifted the hand away from him and brought it to her mouth. Brooklyn watched with some surprise as she made a small show of licking her hand clean of his release, a sight that drew a low, drawn-out growl from his throat. This woman truly was something else, he thought.

He was quick to return the favour. Sitting up, he gently pushed her onto her back, roaming over her with his hands and mouth, before he plunged a (blunted) clawed finger into her slickened opening and brought her to another orgasm, one that had her calling his name and digging her fingers firmly into his back.

Eventually, they fell asleep together, even as the sun started to rise over Miami. The night had been long, and the following day was bound to be even longer.

Very few people were in the office at four o'clock in the morning. Griggs had slept in the lounge area, having spent the better part of the night catching up on his paperwork. He had been sure to let his wife know, and one of the things he loved about that woman was how understanding she was of his job. She knew, in turn, that he was going to have to spend the entire weekend with her to make up for this night out.

The precinct corridors were quiet, almost eerily so. The stark lighting of the place only amplified all the imperfections, such as the flaking paintwork in some places and the thick layers of dust that had gathered in the less frequently used rooms. Griggs made his way for the computer room, where a handful of desktop PCs were located with a direct line to the precinct's main server. That server was situated in the corner of the currently unlit computer room, contained with a set of glass cabinets whilst the air-conditioning blasted cold air into the space. Here, Griggs sat down at one of the computers, keeping the lights off as best to reduce the level of unwanted attention he might receive. Sure, he was well within his rights to be in here, but he certainly did not want someone like Captain Haden sticking his head in.

He had heard what Brooklyn and Sophie had told him of what had happened out in Vermont. He had not bought it all, yet he knew Sophie was no liar. Talk of nonhuman 'imps' was a little bit of a stretch, yet the thought that these might have been the same people who had raided the precinct days before did cross his mind. They were probably just that, people. Nothing different about them, save for their apparent ruthlessness.

Griggs inputted his login credentials before finding his way to the files pertaining to the case that had, officially, been taken off of him. It was an FBI and NEAB matter now, yet the records would still be on the system nonetheless. What he found were scraps of information, as much of the more pertinent details had been scrubbed. That in itself was unusual, and only suggested further intervention from the government authorities. However, he did find a few pieces concerning the robbery of the precinct's evidence lockup. Someone had seen fit to look into the traffic camera footage of the surrounding neighbourhood, but the requisitioned footage itself either had not been received before the investigation had closed, or someone had in fact scrubbed it as well.

A coverup. This was what it was, and the thought only filled him with a growing sense of dread. Someone was trying to cover their tracks, and they were using the likes of the FBI to do it. If some secret society with far-reaching power, such as the Illuminati, really did exist, then it stood to reason that they would have the FBI at their disposal. Just what was it that he, Sophie and Brooklyn been drawn into? Who was really pulling the strings, and who else benefited from it?

As much as he hated to admit it, Ferretti might be able to help him on this. The man was a jerk, sure, but he was a good Detective. With Sophie and Brooklyn suspended, Griggs had little other choice. First thing would be to find that traffic camera footage. It would exist somewhere, even if it meant going to city traffic control to get it. Knowing Ferretti, he might already have a few other avenues of investigation ready to pursue, even if they were not supposed to be on the case. Despite his attitude, Ferretti was a rulebreaker, much in the same way Sophie was.

What Griggs did know was that he was on the cusp of a whole world of trouble. He might have bowed out of it all on any other occasion, but his instincts told him that much more was at stake than just him and his career. Sophie and Brooklyn were in trouble, and they were his friends; he had never abandoned his friends in the past and he certainly would not start doing so now.