"In other news," the local newscaster announced between segments, "the Salem fire department--" Brady muted the television. Marlena walked quickly down the stairs, passing her husband's briefase to him as they both whisked out the door to their garage with brief "goodbyes" and "have a nice days." Brady nodded curtly as the door shut behind them.
*This is nice,* he thought to himself, *no one here but me a--*
"Ah...mm...Brady?" Chloe said, carefully setting her foot on the last stair and stumbling over the words in an early morning haze.
"Good morning, Ms. Lane," he said in mock gallantry. With a smirk, he went on to tease her once more. "Not a morning person, huh?"
"What do you think?" she said, her smokey eyes growling at him for her. "Is there any coffee?" Chloe asked slowly.
"Chloe, you're only, like, 12 years old--it'll stunt your growth, remember?" Brady laughed, leaning back on the couch and setting arm on the back of it.
"Get. Me. Coffee."
The look in her eyes was enough. Hightailing it to the kitchen as fast as his cane would allow, he returned--meekly--to say that there was no coffee left in the percolator, and that they were also out of coffee grounds.
"But you can have mine," Brady said as a peace offering. It took a moment to register in Chloe's mind, but soon a look of surprise glanced over her features.
"Wow...you're...really nice in the morning, Brady," Chloe told him.
"Not normally...but I've drunk 3 cups of coffee in the last 10 minutes, and you look like hell--so I figure you deserve it."
Chloe scowled in return at the backhanded compliment and plopped down, very unladylike, naturally, on the couch next to the man who currently occupied it.
With a huge yawn, Chloe settled back onto the couch, her neck barely brushing Brady's outstretched hand, which rested behind her.
*Good lord. Wearing those damn tiny pajamas--those excuses for pajamas--coming down here exhausted and looking like some 70s porn star, and yet looking like the girl next door at the same time--augh! screw her!* Brady insulted her, and then admonished himself.
*But you know that's what you wanna do, Black* a taunting voice said in his mind.
*I so have to get out of this--before--before I do something I shouldn't!*
"Chloe--Chloe!" he lightly shook the shoulders of the girl. "Chloe? Chlo!"
Brady pulled her slumping form from the couch and looked at her, experiencing a moment of panic. The brunette's eyes were closed lightly, and Brady could tell that she was not feigning sleep like he thought.
"Chloe Lane!"he said in a loud whisper. Not thinking, Brady laid his hand on her chest, placing it above her heart. Her heartbeat was shallow, and a finger on her pulse reiterated his observation.
Brady unceremoniously dropped Chloe onto the couch and hobbled up the stairs at a clip, dropping his cane on the way. "Dang it!" he said before grabbing the railing and going on without it.
* * * * * * * * * *
Belle was slowly coming out of her slumber, her eyes heavy and her body warm underneath the comforter of her bed, when her brother bust in.
"Belle! Belle!" Brady, a sheen of sweat on his forhead, fell beside her bedside and placed a hand on his healing leg. "Belle! Is there something wrong with Chloe?" he questioned.
"Uh...mm...huh?" the blond said sleepily, rolling over to face him.
"Is there something wrong with Chloe!" he reiterated, grasping her shoulders.
"I don't think so....." she mumbled before her eyes opened more and a look of thought crossed her features. "Well, last night she didn't feel well...she said she had a headache...something about falling. I'm not sure what it wa..." with that, Belle drifted back asleep.
*Oh no. Oh. No.* were the only words running through Brady's mind as he stumbled back down the stairs, grasping his cane as he went to Chloe's side.