Spoilers: Through the Season 1 Finale
Author: The Mad Fangirl
Archive: Wherever, but let me know.
Disclaimer: The characters herein are owned by other people and I make no money from their shameless exploitation.
Genre: Humor. Plant tongue firmly in cheek.
Author's Note: Man, I seem to like putting Ian in this position...get your minds out of the gutter!
Another Sword to the Throat Kinda Day
A Witchblade/Dead Last crossover.
Nottingham slipped away from the Rialto, puzzled. He'd been sure Sara would enter and there come into her destiny, but she hadn't. She'd walked away.
As he moved invisibly between streets, he heard and smelled breath at his back. Whoever followed him was terrible at it. Best to put him out of his misery. Ian turned a corner, waiting, and then, in a move calm and measured but appearing a blur, he laid his sword at the man's throat.
He faced an overfed, blond, goateed boy, who immediately threw up his hands and begged "pleasedon'tkillme, pleasedont'tkillme, oh god, pleasedon'tkillme...." He was panting, trembling.
Curious, Nottingham held his position and asked the obvious question, or began to. "Why were you..."
"F-f-following you? Um, look, this is gonna sound crazy but believe me because I'm about to pee my pants and I would not lie to you. A ghost made me. I can't help it. We...I... kinda have to do what they say. I have to give you a message. He's here. He's standing right here, man."
"You are insane."
"No, no I'm not. He...he says he's sorry, that he knows how dangerous you are but he says...he says you're too honorable to kill the messenger, at least, this you is." The boy looked right. "What the hell does that mean?" he said to thin air.
The sword moved immeasurably closer to blooding the child's throat. His deepest secret, and the boy had blurted it all unknowing. "And what's this ghost's name?"
"He says 'to name is to know, to know is to control.'" Ian's eyes widened. He'd heard that saying before. "He says he's become unstuck in time, that he was dead when things went all pear-shaped, so he could...what, I'm summarizing! Okay, I'll stop! Sheesh." His eyes darted right again. "He shouldn't be here, because in this timeline he's not dead, but he had to talk to you before he could move on and he rode time back to tell you."
"What's his name? I won't ask you again."
"It's Danny. His name's Danny. He's a Chinese guy in a dress. Yeah, okay, traditional costume, whatever."
"Danny Woo. So the blade's been used to turn the key. She's changed her fate and his." Ian tilted his head, considering, and the sword did not move. "And his message?"
The boy had stopped shaking. He seemed no less afraid, but somehow his voice was firmer. "You have to outlive your master. He says he knows it'll be hard, the hardest thing you've ever done, but you have to, or he'll bring you back. If he does, you'll destroy her and everything she loves with a smile in your heart. He hopes to all that's holy that you've already begun to care, or else this is for nothing." His eyes sought the ghost again. "Whoa. That's heavy. Um, okay, that's it. I think, yeah, he's sticking around to see if you let me live. Yeah, that's great, Danny, I know you're sorry, all right? I agreed to this, okay. I don't want all those people to die either, man! No offense."
The boy's eyes met Nottingham's, searching for his life or death. "Thank you for the warning," Nottingham replied, looking to where the boy had glanced. Then he turned his eyes back. "You're an innocent." When the boy began to suck in air, he added, "Sometimes the innocent must be sacrificed." The breath froze in the young man's lungs. "But not today." The blond looked like he might faint. "Forget all you heard here and you get to live."
"That did it," the kid said. "He's fading out. Um, can I go, then?"
"A moment," Nottingham requested, and since the youth was still at swordpoint he gave it. "Your gift may be needed in the future. I can always find you, but you'd prefer it if it were easy on me."
Moving very, very slowly, the kid reached somewhere behind to withdraw a pink bumper sticker. It read, simply, "Problem."
"Put this on your car," he said, smiling shakily. "Then you'll have no problem, man, I swear."
The sword point lifted, and the boy wheeled and ran. More than a little of his weight, apparently, was muscle, for he vanished into the distance at nearly Ian's speed. The pink bumper sticker slid into a back pocket, and Nottingham walked on.
--
END
TMF
Author: The Mad Fangirl
Archive: Wherever, but let me know.
Disclaimer: The characters herein are owned by other people and I make no money from their shameless exploitation.
Genre: Humor. Plant tongue firmly in cheek.
Author's Note: Man, I seem to like putting Ian in this position...get your minds out of the gutter!
Another Sword to the Throat Kinda Day
A Witchblade/Dead Last crossover.
Nottingham slipped away from the Rialto, puzzled. He'd been sure Sara would enter and there come into her destiny, but she hadn't. She'd walked away.
As he moved invisibly between streets, he heard and smelled breath at his back. Whoever followed him was terrible at it. Best to put him out of his misery. Ian turned a corner, waiting, and then, in a move calm and measured but appearing a blur, he laid his sword at the man's throat.
He faced an overfed, blond, goateed boy, who immediately threw up his hands and begged "pleasedon'tkillme, pleasedont'tkillme, oh god, pleasedon'tkillme...." He was panting, trembling.
Curious, Nottingham held his position and asked the obvious question, or began to. "Why were you..."
"F-f-following you? Um, look, this is gonna sound crazy but believe me because I'm about to pee my pants and I would not lie to you. A ghost made me. I can't help it. We...I... kinda have to do what they say. I have to give you a message. He's here. He's standing right here, man."
"You are insane."
"No, no I'm not. He...he says he's sorry, that he knows how dangerous you are but he says...he says you're too honorable to kill the messenger, at least, this you is." The boy looked right. "What the hell does that mean?" he said to thin air.
The sword moved immeasurably closer to blooding the child's throat. His deepest secret, and the boy had blurted it all unknowing. "And what's this ghost's name?"
"He says 'to name is to know, to know is to control.'" Ian's eyes widened. He'd heard that saying before. "He says he's become unstuck in time, that he was dead when things went all pear-shaped, so he could...what, I'm summarizing! Okay, I'll stop! Sheesh." His eyes darted right again. "He shouldn't be here, because in this timeline he's not dead, but he had to talk to you before he could move on and he rode time back to tell you."
"What's his name? I won't ask you again."
"It's Danny. His name's Danny. He's a Chinese guy in a dress. Yeah, okay, traditional costume, whatever."
"Danny Woo. So the blade's been used to turn the key. She's changed her fate and his." Ian tilted his head, considering, and the sword did not move. "And his message?"
The boy had stopped shaking. He seemed no less afraid, but somehow his voice was firmer. "You have to outlive your master. He says he knows it'll be hard, the hardest thing you've ever done, but you have to, or he'll bring you back. If he does, you'll destroy her and everything she loves with a smile in your heart. He hopes to all that's holy that you've already begun to care, or else this is for nothing." His eyes sought the ghost again. "Whoa. That's heavy. Um, okay, that's it. I think, yeah, he's sticking around to see if you let me live. Yeah, that's great, Danny, I know you're sorry, all right? I agreed to this, okay. I don't want all those people to die either, man! No offense."
The boy's eyes met Nottingham's, searching for his life or death. "Thank you for the warning," Nottingham replied, looking to where the boy had glanced. Then he turned his eyes back. "You're an innocent." When the boy began to suck in air, he added, "Sometimes the innocent must be sacrificed." The breath froze in the young man's lungs. "But not today." The blond looked like he might faint. "Forget all you heard here and you get to live."
"That did it," the kid said. "He's fading out. Um, can I go, then?"
"A moment," Nottingham requested, and since the youth was still at swordpoint he gave it. "Your gift may be needed in the future. I can always find you, but you'd prefer it if it were easy on me."
Moving very, very slowly, the kid reached somewhere behind to withdraw a pink bumper sticker. It read, simply, "Problem."
"Put this on your car," he said, smiling shakily. "Then you'll have no problem, man, I swear."
The sword point lifted, and the boy wheeled and ran. More than a little of his weight, apparently, was muscle, for he vanished into the distance at nearly Ian's speed. The pink bumper sticker slid into a back pocket, and Nottingham walked on.
--
END
TMF