This story sprung from a spoiler stating that Brooke is shocked at what she
finds in her bed. Someone suggested it may be no more than a cufflink, as
some spoilers can be misleading. I couldn't help giggling at the vision of
Brooke awaking to find a cufflink in her bed... and no man! So here is a
cute little story of Brooke's journey to solve the mystery - tongue very
much in cheek. Enjoy :)
Brooke attempted to command the marching band in her head to halt. Her eyes were still pinched shut against the unrelenting stream of sunlight that insisted upon being her own personal spotlight. When it was evident that neither the incessant drummers nor the piercing sunlight were taking their leave anytime soon, Brooke allowed one eye to drift open cautiously.
With a groan she clamped it shut again. Flinging her arm across her eyes, barring any further intrusion, she rolled over, seeking refuge in the rumpled sheets. Shooting up with a start at the contact of cool metal against her skin, she immediately gripped her head and sunk back down carefully. Without opening her eyes, her hand combed the sheets until it closed around the offender. Drawing her hands in front of her face, she opened her eyes slowly and focused as intently on the object in her hands as her less than stellar condition would allow.
Her brow wrinkled in perplexed concentration, her usually sharp but now clouded mind, trying to piece things together. And then the jumbled pieces fell into place. A cuff link.... requires a cuff.....which in turn requires... a... man! Doing her best to squelch a horrified yelp, Brooke self-consciously gripped the sheet up to her neck, her dazed eyes scouring the room anxiously. Somewhat relieved to find herself alone, Brooke stumbled into the shower and pocketed the cufflink on her way out the door.
"I am a reporter," Brooke told herself, attempting to be sensible, "I investigate. This is nothing more than a simple investigation. Of all the men in Pine Valley. And their cuffs. Nothing to make anyone suspicious at all." With a sigh, Brooke gave up on sensibility and set forth on her quest.
She had not made more than three very careful steps into the Valley Inn, insisting to her body that it remain upright, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Whirring around, and immediately realizing what a mistake her action was, she attempted to smile in return at Palmer's greeting. Sending a prayer heavenward, she allowed her eyes to drift to his hands. Spying a pefect pair of pretentious cufflinks adorning his cuffs, she released a breath she did not even realize she had been holding. After a few moments of small talk, she turned away from him, only to collide soundly with David, who was hurriedly striding through the restaurant. Staring into his equally bewildered face for a moment, putting off the inevitable, Brooke finally forced herself to transfer her gaze to his cuffs. Safe again.
After disengaging herself from David, and turning a deaf ear to his grumbling, Brooke glanced around the restaurant. Spotting Jackson at a table, she took a deep breath and approached him. When he asked what she had been doing, she thought "Oh not too much. Just ensuring the men of Pine Valley and their cufflinks are all matched up." The absurdity nearly made her laugh out loud. She found herself staring at his hands. Another pair of elegant cufflinks in their proper place. Ignoring Jackson's quizzical expression, Brooke excused herself.
"Oh that was smooth," she chided herself. Heading for the exit, she caught Chris Stamp smiling at her. "I don't even want to know," she muttered under her breath, moving past him.
It only took the tiniest of smiles. It was just a smile. She never even saw the loose cuff. Their eyes locked and her mind was flooded as it all came back to her in a rush. As he moved nearer, Edmund reached for her hand. His cuff very obviously missing its link. The contact sent her reeling, the shiver down her spine incongruous to the heat very quickly rising from within. Unable to take her eyes off him, as it all played back so clearly.
~**~ "I am going to be a hero. I will carry you!" Edmund insisted with an inebriated slur, "I am gal.. gall... gallant!" he proudly proclaimed. He attempted to sweep her into his arms, approaching her unsteadily first from one side and then the other, before finally eying her with confusion. Brooke, equally intoxicated, asserted, "I am gonna be the hero this time." She hit him playfully when he laughed at her, insisting she could not because "You are a girl." The two of them, equally unsuccessly in heroics, stumbled up the stairs, entangled in each other, their kisses increasingly demanding. Clothing flew wildly as they fell to Brooke's bed, releasing months of pent up yearning, never letting go of each other. ~**~
"Hey," Edmund whispered. Torn out of her reverie, Brooke looked around in confusion. "Why are you whispering," she questioned, as Edmund cringed.
"Rough night", he confided, "At least that is what my head is telling me. I can't remember a thing. Now I know how Maria feels."
A chill went through Brooke at the name. Then it hit her. "You mean... you... you don't remember anything?"
"Not a bit," Edmund responded. With a wry grin, "Hope I wasn't too bad."
"Oh no," thought Brooke, "you were very very good," trying to hide her own grin. "Would you like to get some coffee?" she inquired. He nodded in agreement, wrapping his arm around her, both of them wearing smiles at their little secret.
Brooke attempted to command the marching band in her head to halt. Her eyes were still pinched shut against the unrelenting stream of sunlight that insisted upon being her own personal spotlight. When it was evident that neither the incessant drummers nor the piercing sunlight were taking their leave anytime soon, Brooke allowed one eye to drift open cautiously.
With a groan she clamped it shut again. Flinging her arm across her eyes, barring any further intrusion, she rolled over, seeking refuge in the rumpled sheets. Shooting up with a start at the contact of cool metal against her skin, she immediately gripped her head and sunk back down carefully. Without opening her eyes, her hand combed the sheets until it closed around the offender. Drawing her hands in front of her face, she opened her eyes slowly and focused as intently on the object in her hands as her less than stellar condition would allow.
Her brow wrinkled in perplexed concentration, her usually sharp but now clouded mind, trying to piece things together. And then the jumbled pieces fell into place. A cuff link.... requires a cuff.....which in turn requires... a... man! Doing her best to squelch a horrified yelp, Brooke self-consciously gripped the sheet up to her neck, her dazed eyes scouring the room anxiously. Somewhat relieved to find herself alone, Brooke stumbled into the shower and pocketed the cufflink on her way out the door.
"I am a reporter," Brooke told herself, attempting to be sensible, "I investigate. This is nothing more than a simple investigation. Of all the men in Pine Valley. And their cuffs. Nothing to make anyone suspicious at all." With a sigh, Brooke gave up on sensibility and set forth on her quest.
She had not made more than three very careful steps into the Valley Inn, insisting to her body that it remain upright, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Whirring around, and immediately realizing what a mistake her action was, she attempted to smile in return at Palmer's greeting. Sending a prayer heavenward, she allowed her eyes to drift to his hands. Spying a pefect pair of pretentious cufflinks adorning his cuffs, she released a breath she did not even realize she had been holding. After a few moments of small talk, she turned away from him, only to collide soundly with David, who was hurriedly striding through the restaurant. Staring into his equally bewildered face for a moment, putting off the inevitable, Brooke finally forced herself to transfer her gaze to his cuffs. Safe again.
After disengaging herself from David, and turning a deaf ear to his grumbling, Brooke glanced around the restaurant. Spotting Jackson at a table, she took a deep breath and approached him. When he asked what she had been doing, she thought "Oh not too much. Just ensuring the men of Pine Valley and their cufflinks are all matched up." The absurdity nearly made her laugh out loud. She found herself staring at his hands. Another pair of elegant cufflinks in their proper place. Ignoring Jackson's quizzical expression, Brooke excused herself.
"Oh that was smooth," she chided herself. Heading for the exit, she caught Chris Stamp smiling at her. "I don't even want to know," she muttered under her breath, moving past him.
It only took the tiniest of smiles. It was just a smile. She never even saw the loose cuff. Their eyes locked and her mind was flooded as it all came back to her in a rush. As he moved nearer, Edmund reached for her hand. His cuff very obviously missing its link. The contact sent her reeling, the shiver down her spine incongruous to the heat very quickly rising from within. Unable to take her eyes off him, as it all played back so clearly.
~**~ "I am going to be a hero. I will carry you!" Edmund insisted with an inebriated slur, "I am gal.. gall... gallant!" he proudly proclaimed. He attempted to sweep her into his arms, approaching her unsteadily first from one side and then the other, before finally eying her with confusion. Brooke, equally intoxicated, asserted, "I am gonna be the hero this time." She hit him playfully when he laughed at her, insisting she could not because "You are a girl." The two of them, equally unsuccessly in heroics, stumbled up the stairs, entangled in each other, their kisses increasingly demanding. Clothing flew wildly as they fell to Brooke's bed, releasing months of pent up yearning, never letting go of each other. ~**~
"Hey," Edmund whispered. Torn out of her reverie, Brooke looked around in confusion. "Why are you whispering," she questioned, as Edmund cringed.
"Rough night", he confided, "At least that is what my head is telling me. I can't remember a thing. Now I know how Maria feels."
A chill went through Brooke at the name. Then it hit her. "You mean... you... you don't remember anything?"
"Not a bit," Edmund responded. With a wry grin, "Hope I wasn't too bad."
"Oh no," thought Brooke, "you were very very good," trying to hide her own grin. "Would you like to get some coffee?" she inquired. He nodded in agreement, wrapping his arm around her, both of them wearing smiles at their little secret.