| Pez Part 2 She lay like an angel, ebony and ivory under the swirling sea. Her hair, fanned out about her head, only added to the illusion. When the light caught it just right, Ian could see a faint, silvery halo spanning from temple to temple. He was loathe to wake her, at least until supper was ready, but he could see the Witchblade sensed his presenced, and sought to wake her in a form all its own. "Have any good dreams lately, Sara?" "Mmm..." Sara murmered, rolling on her side and burying her cheek farther into the pillow. Lazily, her eyes opened until she could spot Ian. At that, she sat up with a shot. "Agh! What the...?" "You should really fix that window," he stated with a smile, digging sauce and cheese from the brown bag he had set on the counter, and then searching he cupboards for some spaghetti and a pot. "Nottingha..." Sara began, then paused. It really didn't seem right to call him by his last name after what they had shared. "Ian. What are you doing here?" "Making dinner, Sara. Would you like some?" "No. What I'd like is to know what the hell you think you are doing in the middle of my kitchen in the middle of the night, and how the hell did you get here without me hearing? I mean, I know Danny does the same thing, but for Chrissakes, he's dead, no thanks to you." "I told you: you need to fix the window." "That doesn't explai-yai-yai... Danny!" Sara yelled, gathering her sheet over her breasts. From Nottingham's perspective, it appeared as though she were staring off into space and talking to nothing, but after being around the Witchblade his entire life, he'd learned better. Apparently Sara's dead partner wasn't as gone as she'd led him to think. "Oops," Danny sighed, looking around and noting Sara's current state of undress, and her... interesting visitor. 'Oh, great. The stalker got some game,' he thought, but instead said, "Bad timing. Peice of advice, though, Pez. Go with your heart." "Go with your heart," Sara muttered. "What's that supposed to... hey!" Sara's ghostly best friend had disappeared into thin air... again. "What?" "Mmm.. nothing. I changed my mind." "Yes?" "I want coffee." "It's ten thirty in the evening, Sara, nobody drinks coffee now." "I don't care. I want coffee. Until I get some, you're going to be very bored." "Why?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "That's all right. I don't mind the silence." CRASH! BANG! Outside, the rain turned into a thunderstorm. Ian whirled to stare out the window, and winced. "I hate thunderstorms," Pez thought she heard him mutter, but that was drowned out by another crash. Immediately, without regard for pretense, Ian jumped on the bed and hid himself under the covers. For a second, Sara could only stare in amazement, but then she began to laugh. "Hey," she managed between giggles. "What are you doing under there?" "I thought you said you were going to ignore me." "I said no such thing." "Implied, then." Sara peeled back the covers to look him in the face. "Whatever. You didn't answer my question." "I hate thunderstorms," he confessed. "Why?" "The lights, the flashing, the booming. It's all so bothersome. Plus, they give me a bitch of a headache," he muttered, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Oh..." Sara sighed. They sat in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's company, until Sara noticed Ian's hands start to wander. "Hey, hey hey! If you're going to stay under there, watch where you place your hands, mister!" Sara squealed. Nottingham's right hand had migrated from her waist to her breast, and his left hand cupped her buttocks. Ian laughed, sliding up so his face was even with hers, but not moving his hands. "You didn't mind so much, earlier," Ian whispered, nuzzling behind her ear with his nose. "Yeah?" Sara asked. "Well, it's just my luck you had to catch me on laundry day." "What do you mean, Sara?" "Aw, come on! Like we would have... like that would have happened otherwise!" "Sooner or later, it would have." "Oh, come on! It's not like you'd be attracted to me if I was dressed in my normal underclothes. Nothing showing there!" "What happened today wasn't because of your panties, Sara," Ian placated. Sara raised an eyebrow. "All right, so maybe it had a little to do with your panties, at least in regard to timing. But there was a lot more than that." "Oh come on! I'm disgusting! I mean, according to history, I was destined to be with Conchobar or something, and maybe it was supposed to last forever this time... but I couldn't even keep him for more than a few weeks! Admit it, I disgust you!" Sara whined. "Is that what this is about? You think you're not desireable, just because you witnessed the death of Conchobar? Sara, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes upon. You're smart, you're funny, God knows you're beautiful... if Conchobar could come back from the dead and you wanted to be with him, I'd step aside in a moment, just to make you happy." Sara sniffed. "You're lying." Ian turned her face to his, and for what seemed like the first time, looked her straight in the eye. "Then let me ask you a question." "Umm... shoot." "Do I disgust you?" "Where did that come from?" "Just answer the question. Do I disgust you?" "I don't know. At first, when Jake and I were after Moby, all this stuff about 'reptilian brains' bothered me. I mean, there was some guy out there, Irons in fact, playing God with other people's brains, injecting them with some sort of shit to make them 'lethal and loyal'. But now..." "Does it?" "Does it what?" "Bother you?" "Does what bother me?" "Knowing what makes me what I am? You, a cop being in a relationship with me? A relationship with a man who kills for a living, with a 'reptilian brain' many times more sensetive to flashing lights than your own?" "Wait... just wait. Since when are we in a 'relationship'?" "I'm sorry. I suppose I just assumed that after..." "Listen, Ian. What happened earlier... it was wonderful. You're a good person, deep down inside. I feel blessed that you let me see that side of you. It's just that I'm not ready to be in a serious relationship right now with you... with anyone. Work's a bitch, with Dante practically breathing down my neck about all sorts of shit. Jake, my new partner, is sometimes more trouble than he's worth. The Witchblade is still completely dumbfounding me, and it's not like Irons has been any help there. And you! You're a great person when you're not 'officially' working for Irons, like I said before. You're smart, you're funny, a great kisser, an excellent lover..." "Oh really?" Nottingham asked with a self-satisfied smirk. "Really. But that doesn't change the facts of who you are and who I am, and why we can't be in a relationship. Outside this room, I can't afford to trust you farther than I can toss you..." "Which isn't very far..." "Shut up. What I'm trying to say is, you and me wouldn't work. Not in the real world. And with all the screwy stuff going on right now, I need something, someone real right now to keep me grounded." "What about this..." Nottingham asked, and then kissed her gently. When he pulled away, he finished the sentence, "isn't real?" "Ian... I..." Sara spluttered before giving up and looking away. Ian sighed. "Anyway," he concluded when he realized the tangent they had gone off on was finished. "The fact that I don't disgust you doesn't suprise you, does it?" When Sara shook her head, still not looking him in the eye, he asked, "Then why would you think you disgust me?" "Look at me!" Sara exclaimed, self-depreciation apparent. "Look at yourself!" Ian cried, grabbing Sara's wrist and pulling her from the bed. "Come over here to the mirror, and I'll tell you exactly what I see!" "Let go of my wrist, Ian. The neighbors will see." "Who cares?" "I do." "Well, don't. Just for once, stop looking to what other people say to define you. Just listen to my words and look at yourself... just look." "I don't wa..." "Just please, Sara. Look at how perfect you are here," he sighed, running a hand along her cheek. "And here," curving a hand under her breasts. "Here," he tried to touch her in her most private parts, but she caught his hand and sent him a warning glance. "And of course, we can't forget here!" He ended, slapping her playfully in the buttocks. She whirled to face him. He simply raised his eyebrows at her, and smiled. "Oh, you... you..." Sara spluttered. "Yes?" "Agh!" Sara yelled, and with that, tackled him. Laughing in suprise, for he hadn't expected this to happen, Ian stepped back a few paces, falling backward when he felt the edge of the bed hit the back of his knees. Sara fell on top of him and let out a gasp, as much from the feel of his hardening member as from the suddenness of their fall. "Sara," Ian growled, pulling her lips to his for a firm, almost rough kiss. Tentatively he opened his mouth, and she did the same, so he flicked out his tongue to taste her lips. "Ian," Sara gasped when she was allowed to come up for air. "Please. No. I don't have..." "We didn't have protection last time, either," Ian interrupted. "No. Well, that too. But I meant I don't have time. Tomorrow's my day off, the only time I have to get all my chores done." "Do them in the afternoon," Ian pouted. "Wish I could," Sara sighed, flashing him a winning smile. Ian groaned again, flipping them over so Sara was underneath him, then carefully climbing off the bed. "All right." "Hey," Sara whispered, grabbing hold of his wrist. "You don't have to go... if you don't want to." "Maybe it would be better if I did..." "It's your choice." They stared at one another for what may have been seconds... or hours. Finally, Ian sighed. "All right. Just let me shut off the water." "Mmmhmm..." Sara murmered, climbing back under the covers. Seconds later, she could feel Ian sitting on the edge of her bed. Thunk! Thunk! His boots hit the floor. After that, she heard the gentle rustle of cloth against cloth and skin and hair as he removed both his shirt and his cap. Swinging into bed, he curled up against Sara, molding her body to his. She could feel his arms bare against hers, and the cloth of his undershirt beneath her bare back. His long hair tickled her cheek. With amusement, she noted that he had not bothered to remove his pants or socks. When she asked why, he simply laughed and replied with a simple statement. "Too much temptation." "Oh," Sara gasped. Ian chuckled again, then tightened his arms around her as he planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Sweet dreams, Sara." "Goodnight, Ian." ...And outside, the rain slowly ceased. |