Her slender fingers caressed over the bruised and beaten flesh of his back.  As hesitant as she was to touch such sore places on his body, she could not really help herself.  A long tenderness she felt made her wish she could heal his injuries with her touch, coupled with the curiosity of just what it would feel like against her fingertips.  Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped.  Gone were any signs of the crimson seeping out to be replaced by the crusty lines etched across his back as a result of what Evans did to him.  "My poor baby," she whispered as she half leaned her forearm against his back while she bend her back forward.  Her hair hanging down the sides of her faces, ends trailing down his back to tickle the sensitive parts of his body, she pressed her lips to his shoulder with a kiss.

The soft, bare skin of her inner thighs against him as she straddle over him, Cole reached back to gently caress a hand over her tender flesh out of sheer instinct.  The feeling of her petite breasts with the cotton covering of her t-shirt crushing against his back, he wished he were on his back so he could at least touch them.  For a few minutes, he momentarily forgot why he was agitated with her.  The amnesia, however, was short lived but that did not mean he could not enjoy himself with the touch of her naked leg.  "Brooke... Honey... You still haven't told me why you want to fight Evans... Why you requested this match," he mumbled not wanting to sound upset... worried.  She only shushed with as a librarian would and continued to kiss up his collar.  "I don't really need to do I?  Don't worry about it," she whispered softly into his ear with a nibble at the lob, "Now stop saying you don't want anything for your birthday like you're a monk and just tell me whatever it is you want.  How about the kinkiest sex you've ever had in your life?  Wanna tie me up and have your way with me?"

"You're the one dodging the question," he said, his mumbling rising in volume to something more of an aggravated groan, "Why are you insisting on fighting him?  You saw what he did to me.  So help me God if he pulls some shit with you."  "I don't care," she grumbled as she sat back up, pulling her hair back away from her face and behind her ears, "Look at what he did to you.  The fucking guy made me watch while he beat the shit out of you.  I'm sorry baby, but I'm not going to just let him get away with it.  Christ, my wrist is still killing me from when I was trying to get out of the handcuffs, and the fucker through me into the stairs so there goes my shoulder too."  "Yeah, I know," he groaned, knowing that family temper of hers was firing up, she was a Michaels after all, "I'll be damned if history's going to repeat itself though.  I don't care if gets me thrown in intensive care, he's not going to do a thing to you if I have anything to say about it."  A soft knocking at the hotel door drew both of their attention towards him, bringing an end to the trend of the conversation.  Brooke climbed off him, pulling the bed sheet up to his back to cover his body, "You don't have to, you're already my knight in shining armor."

Her toes curled into the upholstery of the carpet, her bare feet padding over it to the door.  Opening it, she saw Kameron leaning up against the door's frame smiling as he saw it was her opening to door.  "Hey there," she smiled while she moved to the side and giving him enough room to walk in.  He closed the door behind him, immediately and quite unexpectedly receiving a hug from her, a soft kiss against his cheek.  Out of common courtesy, he wrapped his one arm around her back and asked, "Hey, what's that for?"  "I never got a chance to thank you," she half-mumbled, "I don't know what we would've done if you didn't stop Evans, how bad Cole would've been hurt.  Just... thank you so much."  His hand moved up and down her back as he rubbed gently, "No problem, Brooke.  He is my brother after all, and like I said before, you're practically family now."

She pulled herself away from him, taking a few steps back, "Maybe you can talk some sense into him and drag it out of him just what he wants for his birthday.  He's being a knucklehead about it."  "She's the one being hard headed, not listening to reason," Kameron heard Cole grumbled still face down on the bed.  God knows what kind of medication he was on for the pain, but he was definitely on it right now.  His brother's words only partially registered with him, however, his attention drawn more to Brooke when she turned back around to face him and he realized she was not wearing any pants.  The little, light pink t-shirt she was wearing only halfway hung over the plain white panties she was wearing.  Eyes drifting down her bare legs, he didn't think she noticed the way he was looking at her.  Their bodies, hers and Melissa's were very much similar, seeing her like that made him remember the feeling of that night when he abducted and raped her cousin.  He should be able to control himself though, and even if he could not, he hoped she would not notice the raging hard on he was sure to have.

She did not apparently, only rolling her eyes with Cole's insistence on continuing the conversation.  Moving to a chair in a corner, she picked up a pair of faded blue jeans, a belt already looped through the waist and pulled them up and over her thin legs.  Fastening the waist and the belt over her stomach at her navel the t-shirt.  "That's enough out of you," she admonished Cole as she took up a single elastic band from the night table on the side of the bed, "I'm doing this.  Evans has to pay for what he did."  Raising her hands up behind her head to pull her hair back to tie it in a ponytail, Kameron actually noticed Brooke's body with its shapes.  She was taller than Melissa.  Hell, she was as some guys, and definitely more slender than her cousin.  The tight jeans she was wearing held the t-shirt like a vice, showing her form very well, especially those small breasts of hers.  What he wouldn't give to be able to just touch her, but he was changed, or trying to at least.  At least Cole was not in the right position to see that Kameron was checking out his teenage lover, and if she felt his eyes on her, she did not show any sign of it.

Finished her hair, she headed towards the bathroom, giving Cole a look over her shoulder at the door, "And mister, I'm going to brush my teeth than it's your turn and get ready.  Like it or not, you're getting something for you birthday."  She closed the bathroom door behind her, the sound of running water from probably the sink following shortly after.  A sigh from Cole not making a move yet from the bed, "I swear bro, sometimes it's like I'm living with mom again."

"Can I take a look at that one, please?," she asked as she tapped a finger against the glass sheet.  The metal buckle of her belt banged with a soft clink against the transparent surface as she leaned over it at a slight angle.  The woman behind the counter smiled, the wrinkles rippling across her aging face giving her a homely aura.  Dressed as she was simply in a plain-colored t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, Brooke had looked the exact opposite of someone that could actually buy such a thing.  For all the woman knew, Brooke was just another teenage girl straight out of high school and wanted to gaze on the wonders she was no where near able to afford.  Dreaming of a far away time years from now after the girl on the other side grew up, that's what she assumed Brooke to be and nothing more. Without the presence of an accent, she was probably in London on some summer vacation with her family, deciding to sneak away and do her own thing.  It made no difference to her, as long as no paying customers were around with this girl taking her away from a possible big commission.

The rhythmic drone of "customer friendly" sounds hummed down from the speakers within the department store's ceiling.  "Sure thing, Miss," the woman said politely masking her sarcastic tone.  The heels of her expensive high-heeled shoes clicked against the polished floor, the silver locks of her elegantly prepared hair staying stock still as she swaggered smugly to Brooke.  In the case of Evelyn Watson, her elderly beauty was only skin-deep.  The experience had told her to label anyone like Brooke as a young brat that just enjoyed contaminating other people's day with an annoying filling.  She was a nuisance and Evelyn would treat her as such.

"Which one?," she asked keeping up the non-offensive tone.  Brooke had been touring in England for GEW for a month now, but she still had some difficulty in adjusting to the language.  The accent, the different in words, some things sounding completely antiquated and foreign to her ears said regularly around her.  True, when she was on her trip to other parts of Europe with the asshole, she was completely enveloped in the foreign culture.  But then again, she was quite simply a tourist and stuck strictly to the areas where the rest of the Americans congregated.  Not to mention that it only lasted a couple days when they were in Paris when she woke up with both him and the trust fund she was depending upon were gone.  Vacation over.  Now, however, she was in the part of the world because of business, the work of wrestling she found herself dragged into as a result of her desperation for some form of income.  And well, there was the pleasure part of it but that was because of Cole and only happened after the trip started.

Cole.  Brooke's heart fluttered as a butterfly would in her chest.  She cast a weary glance all around, looking for him in all directions.  No sign of him though.  He said he was going to look at some shirts, but over the racks of clothes, in the far corner, she could not get a glimpsed of that smooth mop of his hair nor that glowing face she just loved to kiss and wanted to eat up.  She wanted to make sure he was nowhere around while she shopped and though about the future.  The last thing she wanted was for him to feel like she was pushing him to take a step he was not ready to do.  A girl can dream though can't she?  That's what she was doing, dreaming of a hopeful future... their future.

Standing on her toes, she felt the excitement flow through her at even the thought of actually getting it.  "That one," she said decisively with a firm press of her finger against the glass again.  The back opened, the spider silk skin-clad fingers reached inside and pulled free the object of Brooke's obsession.  Cautiously and apprehensively, Evelyn placed the small article in front of her over the clear case, careful just in case the young teenager before her decided to grab it and run out the doors before anyone had a chance to stop her.  The golden band shimmered its natural glow, the glistening jewel crowing it a modest size.  A finger on her other hand raised to slide over the counter and rubbing over the precious ring, the flesh of her skin feeling the roughness of the small diamond.  Beautiful in its coarseness, she could care less how many karats the diamond was; it was what it would symbolize that was important to her.  The movement of her arm, however, had its drawback.  Her shoulder still hurt like hell, but if the pain from what Evans had done during Cole's match could not make her cringe when gazing upon the miracle of jewel crafting she was beholding.

"Hey hun, whatcha lookin' at?," she heard behind.  She never thought the sweet honey that was Cole's voice could fill her with such horror, but this was going to be an exception to the rule.  "Oh nothing," she lied while trying desperately to cover the ring with both her hands over it, but Evelyn would have none of that.  Brooke tried pleading with the woman silently with eyes, widening into brown, doe-like orbs but the old bitch had no heart to speak of that would compel her to humor the girl.  A young couple, easily a few years older than Brooke and Cole, stood at the counter's opposite end to eye the store's wares for themselves.  To Brooke's despair, Evelyn pried the ring and its case free from under the hands to return it to its prior position.  Giving Brooke one last look, a sneer breaking from her lips, Evelyn walked away to attend to the potentially paying customers.

Cole's hand rested on her back, sliding up the faded blue denim of her jean jacket to stop between her shoulders, the end of the single flow of her ponytail against the back of his hand, he rubbed tenderly.  He had without a doubt seen what she was looking at and she knew it.  "Brooke?," he asked to see if she would tell him what she was thinking or would try to wiggle out of the predicament.  "It's nothing," she answered him finally with a shake of her head and a brief glance at his eyes before she looked away, "I was just looking and thinking, that's all.  It's stup--," "You want to get married don't you?," he cut her off, causing her to stop mid-word and turn her face to him stunned.  She could hardly believe he actually said it.  She could not look in his eyes, looking down and away to his chest as she spoke in a hushed voice as if she might frighten him. "It's stupid, I know.  I mean, we just met like a month ago.  I don't want to scare you away with me hoping.  I'm just totally retarded for even looking rig--,"  "And waiting will change how we feel any better?," he interrupted her again.  "Screw it, lets do it."

Brooke hesitated lifting her eyes to him, fearing she might start crying.  She finally looked at him, his smile as tender as ever.  "You serious?  If this is a joke, I'll kill you," she said to be answer by a nod of his head, "Brooke McGrath huh?  I like the sound of that.  Alright.  Let's do it.  Now go pick out your ring, I have more than enough with the money Xavier sent to pay for both.  I want people to know you're taken and all mine." "I love you, Brooke," he said before kissing her tenderly.  It was soft and warm, the exact thing she needed to feel so good about this.  "I love you too.  Now shoo, pick it out already and I'll get this one."

Another kiss before they painfully parted, it did not take long for Brooke to notice that Evelyn's attention to the other couple had gone without a reward.  "I'll take it," she called after her still at the other end and doing everything she could to ignore the teenager.  "Will that be your daddy's credit card or check?," she mocked Brooke as she returned.  "Neither.  Cash," she responded with a snide smile, digging into a front pocket of her jean jacket over her chest and pulling out a thick wad of British pounds to begin peeling them off from another.