Brooke Foster

@fiery-witch​

Vivian had just gotten off a long shift. The vampires that she served now occasionally bothering her if she had her hair up because they could see the slender scars. The witch would quickly shoot them a fuck off sort of glance and they wouldn’t even mention trying to tap her for any sort of blood. One of her customers had been particularly annoying that night, so she decided to sit down at the bar a little before making her way home. 

Sitting next to a woman that she could tell was not a regular, the witch looked at the bartender and said, “Get me something that is both fruity and strong. I don’t really care what right now.” He nodded, completely understanding what his coworker was needing and turned to get it. 

The other woman’s order confirmed what Brooke had been wondering. Of course they had to sell normal drinks here. Not everyone was a bloodbag. And the ones that were had to keep their strength up somehow. Though alcohol diluted the blood, making people bleed more. Had to be careful with shit like that. Brooke wondered idly to herself if vampires could get drunk off their meal if the person was wasted already. 

“I’ll have a shot of Jack,” she ordered when the bartender returned. “Long night?” she inquired towards the brunette, raising her eyebrows. The girl barely looked old enough to drink. Not that that had ever stopped Brooke either.

“Fair enough then,” the Peters said as he rose from his seat, removing his wallet from his back pocket. Taking out a few bills he tossed them onto the counter and tipped the bartender a goodbye, before looking at the woman. “Hope you enjoy the rest of your night ma’am.” 

Brooke snorted, almost inhaling her drink. “Ma’am.” She shook her head, chuckling. Fuck did she feel old now. She took another sip of her beer.

“Worked like training?” She could guess police work just by looking at how the woman carried herself but didn’t want to assume. “Ever consider getting one yourself?” They were a lot of work but Addison couldn’t deny the bright spot the dog at her feet had brought to her life the past few weeks he’d been in her care. 

"Training, and actually in the field.” Brooke had great respect for K9 teams. Both dogs and handlers worked well together. If she hadn’t ended up as a bomb tech, she thought she would have liked to be part of a K9 team. Dogs at least didn’t let you down. “Plenty of times,” she chuckled. “But I was always moving around or working too much.” In Afghanistan they at least had had camp dogs and cats, unofficial strays that the officials made sure to look the other way about. 

“You never know.” She offered, shrugging as she let the bottle slide into the space between her hands, then taking a swift sip. “Maybe your career isn’t right for you. You like the thrill, but the circus thrill.” It was evident in the way Brooke acted that her occupation was exactly where she needed to be. Fierce and fearless, working as a bomb technician seemed right.

“I think I’m a little old to runaway with the circus,” Brooke chuckled. She stretched her arms above her head. “Besides, I do like what I do.” Brooke had found what worked for her and she wasn’t about to change that up. “But if you decide to, you’ll have my full support,” she added teasingly.

“That would signal that I am some what interested in continuing this conversation,” Gia replied, boredly.

“All right, Blondie,” Brooke shrugged and turned back to her beer. 

“I know her, I know that she would have been looking for my roommate and I after seeing us there just like we were looking for her. She didn’t come back to her apartment. I want you to listen.” Myles immediately regretted how sharp his tone was and he looked from Brooke to the table between them. Being angry wasn’t something he was in the business of doing, but being frustrated, that he could live with. It had been something he’d been living with. Since that whole sickness had stricken the city, since he’d had to just sit back and watch everything happen. At some point the guilt he’d tried so hard to ignore, that voice that repeatedly asked him ‘are you sure you made the right choice’ had gotten louder. This was supposed to help with that, to soothe the voice and remind it that he didn’t need some blessing to help people. “I’m planning on going to the police, but I wanted..” To talk to someone who knew what was going on. Someone who understood. It was a foreign feeling, but an almost welcome one. Seeing her, sitting here with her like this, if he closed his eyes, he could picture himself back at home. Letting out a sigh, he gave a shake of his head, looked from the cold cup of coffee on the table back to her. “What are we up against here? Like actually?” 

He was a good kid, Brooke would give him that. And she was flattered that he had thought to call and ask her. Well, flattered underneath the annoyance. She was no one’s personal Hunter, nor was she a private investigator. But she could appreciate that Myles was worried about his friend. “I’m listening,” she said, a little softer. She knew when people were being jerks or trying to tell her what to do just for the hell of it, and she knew that wasn’t what was going on here. Myles’ concern made him impatient. Worry made him angry. 

“Okay, so she didn’t come back to her apartment,” Brooke said, shifting in her seat to face Myles head on. Her hands folded around each other on the table. “How do you know she didn’t go spend some time with family, friends, a boyfriend maybe?” She held up a hand to forestall any protests. “I’m not dismissing your concerns, I’m just looking at all the possibilities.” She knew what he was asking when he wanted to know what they were up against. Frankly, the police force and the rest of the supernatural community was trying to figure that out too. 

          “Oh, trust me got a long ways to go before they’re born but I’m already afraid I’ll win the overprotective parent award when they are.” 

“I’m sure that kid will be well protected,” Brooke snorted. Not only by Julian but by his family and all of their friends. 

“I will, just to see you do that trick one more time. Exactly, and I can see you having a knack for it. Just take a few classes and maybe you’ll find out you were always meant to be a circus performer. Strong woman and trapeze artist.” Their conversation more or less sounded like one she’d have with her cousins, though without the many twists and turns the Jarvises tended to take for no apparent reason when their brains happened to be on one subject.

Brooke smirked. Lifting the bottle to her mouth, she repeated her earlier manoeuvre, easily removing the cap. She grinned at JJ and slid the bottle back towards her, flashing her still perfect teeth at the younger girl. “Somehow I don’t think that’s going to happen,” she shook her head ruefully, though still smiling. Acrobatics would be a thrill, but so was diffusing bombs.

“Maybe, he spends most of his time inspecting every other fucking thing so you’re probably not wrong.” Addison snorted at the mention of thunderstorms and shrugged, “you know what? I think more so when I’m not around,” and he could feel her calm, “but otherwise, he’s pretty chill–– do you have a dog?”

“Makes sense,” Brooke nodded. Animals could sense things in the atmosphere, but they could also sense the moods and of their owners. She shook her head, a rueful smile touching her lips. “No,” Brooke shrugged. “But I’ve worked with a few.”