Chapter 25

Brooke, Lydia and Emily watch Lucas, as he begins to jog towards their house. Emily whispers 'bye, daddy' and waves to his back.

Brooke kneels in front of the girls. Emily clings possessively to Brooke, while Lydia stands straight, looking at Brooke with her impossibly huge blue eyes. Before Brooke can say anything, Lydia speaks. "Why did he leave, Auntie?" She gives their sand castle a sad look. "We were having fun."

Brooke shrugs, trying to appear unconcerned. She knows perfectly well that her Broody was a little overwhelmed by her sudden appearance and needed some time. But how do you explain the vagaries of adult behavior to a small child? "It's my fault, sweetie. I gave him a big surprise and he needs a little time to think."

Lydia nods and goes back working on the castle. Emily sidles near and asks in a tinny voice. "Daddy go away?"

The fear in Emily's voice shows Brooke the damage she's done to her daughter. In the toddler's mind, anyone can just suddenly disappear. Brooke tries to bury her shame, as she hugs her daughter tight. "No, sweetie. He just went home."

"You pomise?"

"I promise."

The little girl pushes away from the hug and looks closely at her mother's face. She seems to approve of whatever she sees there. She kneels back next to her cousin. "Otay. Mommy help?"

Brooke checks her watch. Lucas said Haley would be expecting them back in about half an hour.

"Sure."

A little while later, Brooke climbs the steps to the Naley home, Lydia walking ahead and Emily in her arms. Haley and Quinn are chatting and sunbathing next to the pool. Lydia yells. "Hi mom, aunt Quinnie! Look. Aunt Brooke is back!"

The two women turn in her direction, Quinn with a smile and Haley with a small frown. Quinn greets Brooke with a jazz wave. Haley is a little more vocal. "You're back."

Brooke stifles a spark of annoyance. Haley is a good friend, but she can be a judgmental little prick. Brooke plasters a fake smile in her face. "Tutormon, Shutterbug."

Haley presses her lips in a thin line. Quinn gives Brooke a look of concern. "Good to see you, Brooke. How have you been?"

Brooke sighs. Quinn is sweet, harmless and a bit vacuous. Gorgeous, of course, like her sisters. Sisters. For a moment, Brooke thinks of Taylor and smiles. "I'm fine. Are the boys around?"

Haley replies. "Nathan and Clay are in Europe somewhere, chasing talent. Jamie and Logan are upstairs, playing some game."

With Emily still clinging like a limpet, Brooke opens the door and peeks. Both boys are holding game controllers and shouting with music and battle sounds as background. Both are blonde, with Logan the smaller one. At eleven, Jamie is over five feet and built solid, probably outweighing Brooke. Haley's smarts, Nathan's build and Lucas' eyes.

He drops the controller when he sees her, without pausing. "Aunt Brooke!" He jumps at her, wrapping both Brooke and Emily in a bear hug.

Emily, already a little frazzled, bursts out crying and buries her face in her mother's neck. Jamie steps away, mortified. "I'm so sorry, Pixie!"

Brooke holds Emily tighter, and tries to console her, while giving Jamie a reassuring smile. "There, honey. It's just your cousin Jamie..."

Logan gets up and turns off the game, looking worried. Jamie looks like he is about to follow Emily and burst into tears. Logan tries to defuse the situation. "I like the hair, Mrs. Scott."

"Well, thank you, Logan." Brooke sits down in the vacated sofa and continues to comfort Emily. "And please, call me Brooke."

Logan assents with a nod. He figures that Jamie need a little time with Brooke and Emily. "I'll be in your room, cuz."

"I'll be there in a bit." Jamie replies. He sits next to Brooke and softly caresses Emily's hair, who had settled into quiet whimpering. "I liked the pink better," he mumbles.

Brooke smiles softly. She really loves this kid. "Gotta mix it up a bit, sweetie."

Jamie sighs theatrically. "I missed you. We all did."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Emily lifts her head a bit and sniffs. "I like green, Mommy."

Brooke giggles and Jamie snorts. "I'm glad you do. I hope your dad likes it too."

Emily sniffs a bit more. "I want Daddy..."

Brooke extends a hand and caresses Jamie's face. "I guess I have to go."

"That's fine, Aunt Brooke. But you'll be around now."

"Of course." She hugs Emily tight, eliciting a little squeal. "I ain't going nowhere."

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Lucas walks back to the beach house in a daze. He is still in a blank fugue when he walks in on Sam in pink cotton pajamas, reading a book and eating her breakfast. He just walks past her, going towards the stairs. It's rather odd behavior for him, which alarms Sam a little. She calls out. "Dad?"

Lucas stops and looks around, a little surprised to find himself back at the house. Sam calls again and he finally notices her and answers. "Oh. Good morning, honey."

Sam's worry dies down a bit. "What's up, dad? Where's Emily?"

Lucas struggles to find his words. "Everything is fine. She is with her mother."

Sam jumps up, slamming her open hand on the table with a crack. "What do you mean 'fine'?"

Lucas flinches, approaches her and sets a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. "Sam..."

Sam steps back. "Is she taking Emily away?"

"No! Of course not." Lucas hesitates. He is pretty sure that Brooke is not going anywhere, but he has not talked to her. He is aware a lot can change in six weeks, though. "Brooke is back home, that's all."

"And you're just going to let that bitch waltz back into our lives?"

Lucas' eyes harden. "The 'bitch' you're talking about..."

"What about Taylor?" Sam cuts him off with a scream.

She opens her mouth to rant, but Lucas stops her with a raised hand. Brooke should be walking in with Emily anytime, and it just won't do to find him and Sam screaming at each other. Lucas sits by the kitchen counter and signals Sam to do the same. She complies, staring at him with a stiff, hurt face that cuts him to the core. He counts to five, slowly, letting his turbulent emotions settle a bit and only then talks. "Taylor and Brooke are my business. Don't make things worse, please."

Sam seems to deflate. "I-I thought..."

"I know what you thought, honey, and you were wrong."

They both stare at the counter. Finally Sam breaks the silence. "I don't understand."

"What?"

"Why Brooke?"

Lucas smirks. She is back. She is really back! "Taylor is an amazing woman, and I really love her. But Brooke... Brooke is everything." Sam shakes her head, exasperated. "I don't expect you to understand."

"She just left, dad. She hurt you, and what is worse, she hurt Em."

"True." Lucas presses his lips together. She hurt Sam too.

"And you'll let her get away with it."

"Sam, she shot her own mother to protect us, and she broke herself in doing it. She's getting away with nothing."

"Still..."

Lucas waves his hand tiredly. "Just give me some time."

Sam breathes in and tries to reel in her temper. She's twenty-one and about to start law school. Not a broken girl anymore. She trusts the man in front of her more than anyone else in the world, including herself. She exhales slowly. "Fine."

Lucas goes for a shower, while Sam gets dressed and leaves to meet with friends. She had been dating for a few months, but it ended before graduation. Since then, she has spent the Summer playing surrogate mother and part-time housewife, and, to be honest, she's a little fed up with it.

He is coming back down, with a book in his hand, when Emily runs in. "Daddy!"

He picks her up and pokes her belly. "Hey."

She giggles. "It tickles, Daddy! Leggo!"

Brooke comes in right after Emily. Lucas stops playing with Emily and stares. She looks tired, tense and afraid. She's also too thin, and he is not really sure about the green hair. But her eyes are alive. Lucas worst fears drain away. His Brooke is really back. There's still anger and uncertainty, but, for the first time since that night, he feels lighter.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

'He is staring at me, and he is not smiling' "Lucas..." she realizes she doesn't know what to say.

He replies in a matter-of-fact tone. "She needs a bath."

Brooke assents with a nod, grateful for the distraction. "Right." She takes Emily in her arms. "I'll do it."

"I'll fix her lunch."

"Fine." She climbs the stairs, Emily dancing with glee in her arms. She loves her baths.

Brooke sets the little girl down and adjusts the water temperature to the cold side of warm. She looks for Emily and, surprisingly, the girl had removed her bikini bottom and climbed on the toilet for a tinkle. By herself. A new development, and a rather early one. "Bubbes, Mommy."

"Pink or blue?"

"Pink, pease." Strawberry scented. Brooke's favorite. Brooke missed this, a lot.

With Emily in the tub, and without thinking, Brooke does a superficial clinical examination. Healthy general aspect, on the chubby side of absolutely normal. Hair a little neglected. Bright eyes, appropriate self-regard, a touch of clinginess. A small rash on the outside of her left thigh. Eyes a little swollen. Clean airway, a little nasal discharge. Nails need trimming...

Brooke finally catches herself and snickers. Doc mommy,,.

As she washes Emily's hair, her mind wanders, right to the man downstairs. She misses him... she needs him.

He didn't send her away. Yet. That's good.

She didn't expect open arms, after all.

She broke her word. And ignored motherhood's obligations. Maybe he'll punish her... Her self-hating, pain-craving kink intrudes in her thought process... a mental image of herself, naked, arms up, tied to their bedroom's dancing pole. Lucas and a leather whip...

She shakes her head and mutters to herself. 'Tone it down, Brookie!' Lucas wouldn't use anything harsher than a paddle anyways. The wimp.

It's late evening when they finally find themselves Emily-less. Brooke takes off her shoes and kneels in the middle of their unmade bed. Lucas sits in the armchair, reclining with one leg over the chair's arm. He stares at her, intent and impassive. Her mouth feels dry, and a little flame lights up between her legs.

Unable to speak she looks around, her eyes settling on the Tuesday panties on top of a pillow. She picks them up. Lets the thin cloth run through her fingers. She smells it. Him. A tiny smile graces her lips, and, as she lifts her eyes, a small smile is on his face as well. She breaks the silence. "Wanna fuck?"

"No."

"Liar." She pinches her right nipple through the shirt, hard. The pain clears her mind a little. "Do you need an apology first?"

He smirks. "An apology for what?"

"For leaving, of course."

He looks a little uneasy. "No, I don't need an apology for that." He presses his lips together in a thin line. "For hurting our daughters, though..." he lets the words fade.

"I'll try to make it up to them." He looks doubtful, as well he should. She loves him for that. "I'll just disappear if that's what you want."

He shakes his head. "No." Brooke just looks at him, waiting. "We need you. I need you."

"I'm here."

"Are you?"

With that Brooke relaxes a little. "Most of me, I guess."

He looks pained. "Tell me. I need to know."

"First I went to New York. I wanted to see my therapist. The first night, I almost fell right off the wagon."

"I was afraid of that."

"Rightly so. I went to a meeting instead."

He nods approvingly. "Good."

"There was a free clinic next door. Not very nice. Crowded. I volunteered to help. Figured a little work would help me. Get my mind off... things."

"Did it help?"

She nods. "I spent a month working my sweet little tushie off." He smiles. "Twelve hour shifts. AA Meetings. Rushed fast food meals. Sleep by exhaustion."

"Did you ever see your therapist?"

"No. Something changed."

"What?"

"Me, I guess... a man died under my care."

"Was it your fault?"

"No. I was just taking blood for an exam. He had a stroke." Lucas got up, sat next to her. "One minute he was there, bitching about his life, and then: 'poof!' Gone."

"I'm sorry."

Brooke nods, acknowledging. "Death changes you."

"I know it does."

She presses her lips together and nods. "I don't carry a gun anymore."

"No?"

"I'm going to be true to the oath. Do no harm. I'll end up killing people anyways, I'm sure, But it will be incompetence and stupidity, not intent." He smiles, with a touch of approval. "Anyways, after a month, I felt whole enough to leave. I stopped by Taylor's"

"She mentioned it. Did you tell her to seduce me?"

"Not in so many words. I told her it would be ok, though."

"We fucked."

She nods. "I know. Was it good?"

"Of course it was."

Brooke smiles. "Cute baby bump and all..."

She knows him too well. "You don't mind?"

"I told you. I'm yours. No strings."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Clever little Broody." She laughs. "I'll tell you as soon as I know the answer."

"Crazy woman."

She slides a finger down his thigh. He shudders. "You have no idea..."

"I certainly don't." She scares him a bit, sometimes.

"I went to my Granny's house. Victoria was staying there after she left jail, but the house is actually mine."

"Your Granny?"

"She died when I was eleven. Sweet. Not all there. I wanted to understand where my mother came from."

"And did you?"

"I think so, a little. Letters, pictures, tax returns... my grandfather died in 'Nam. A fucking hero, mind you. "

"I see..."

"No you don't. But I'll show you later."

"All right."

"My last stop was their grave. Arlington. We had a long talk. It helped."

He wraps his arms around her. She hides her face in his chest. Cries a little. He whispers. "You're really back."

After a while, she lifts her eyes to his. They stare at each other, smile. "Fuck now?' She asks. He nods. Some things really can't be helped.