The White Queen (S.Rogers)

Chapter 83

February rained and froze into March, which started off just as cold. Brooklyn had decided she was done with winter in New York, altogether, when the sun began to return on a more regular basis. While it was nowhere near being warm enough for her to not bundle up in everything she could, even to go down to the bakery, the air was sending messages that spring wasn't far away. The trees along the streets and at the park were turning a strange color of brown, with a haze of green and yellow, if you looked just right.

Brooklyn had caught up with her schooling, now keeping in step with her fellow students. They were gearing up for the GED test, due in another couple weeks. She felt like she was going to pass with flying colors. She had taken to going over things from past lessons, making sure she understood the material. Steve had been more than happy to help her beef up her understanding, as well. Marcus had been happy to help as well, working with her when they weren't going over the weekly numbers from the various interests and businesses that she had control over.

For the most part, she had been able to remain hands off of everything. The crew Marcus and Mr. Marino had helped her put together were able to run pretty autonomously. Only a few issues had come up, that had called for her personal attention.

There had been a bit of a turf disagreement with some of the long standing rival factions, over her assumption of control of Brooklyn. It had been quickly settled with a rather polite exchange between her and the heads of those rival factions. Granted, her version of polite was not what Steve considered to be polite. Which he had made very clear, when she had explained it to him. Apparently, holding her sword to the throat of a man who had a good foot on her, while outweighing her by a hundred pounds, before kneeing him in the throat, and threatening to remove his family jewels did not constitute 'polite'.

Whatever, it got the job done.

Chad had mysteriously disappeared, a few days after the altercation in the hallway. And his buddy's gym, the one he kept pushing on Steve and other residents of Carroll Gardens, had burned down the same day. Sad really. She understood it was the buddy's only form of income. A body had been found in the ashes, but it had so far been unable to be identified. Between the fire, and some kind of mutilation, it had been difficult to establish any sort of defining feature.

As she understood it, the police were assuming it was the person who had set the fire, having gotten caught in the flames of their own destruction.

A single mother recently separated from her abusive husband, and her twelve year old son, now lived in the apartment under Brooklyn and Steve. Out of respect, Brooklyn had asked that the ceiling have extra sound proofing added. Since Chad's revelation that he had been able to hear everything that had been going on in the bedroom, Brooklyn felt it only right that the mother and son NOT be unwilling participants in Steve's best efforts to make her lose her voice.

For the most part, life in the apartment building had calmed down.

Steve had been true to his word, he wasn't pushing. He wasn't demanding. But he kept asking. In the morning, before he left to go to the Tower, he would kiss her gently, bring her left hand up to kiss the back of it, and whisper, "Marry me."

When he came home, he would smile, hold her tight, kiss her temple, and breathe, "Marry me?"

After sex, before he cuddled her close, stroking her as she recovered from her soul nearly shaking itself from her earthly bonds, he would exhale, "Marry me?"

He was giving her time to think. He wasn't pushing.

But he was definitely not above constantly reminding her what the question was.