Chapter 16: Rude Awakening

Chapter 16: Rude Awakening

When Irons awoke he was in his bed at his huge estate. His head pounded; it felt like it was going to explode. He rubbed his hands through his hair and swung his feet over the side of the bed. "Maybe it was all a nightmare." He mumbled about the recent happenings. He slipped his pale feet into his slippers and walked slowly over to his red, silk robe pulling it on. He loved the caress of silk on his body. He went over his agenda in his head as he walked out into the hall and down towards his kitchen. "Ian?" He beckoned. When he reached the kitchen, he was shocked to find it empty. The room was completely bare. "What is going on here?" His voice was irritated. "Ian! Come here!" He paced into the next room to find it empty as well. All his priceless treasure, all gone. Anger began rising inside of him, "Ian, you have got some explaining to do!" He walked through his house. Each room was just as empty as the last and Ian still had not answered him. He stared down his hall of Blade Wielders. All the paintings were gone as well. The two mirrors remained. Irons looked at them. A million images of him glared back at him. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" He yelled, smashing his fist into one of the mirrors shattering it. Blood dripped from his knuckles. He looked at the blood and smirked. He had always liked the sight of blood. It made him know that he was alive. He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and instead found a piece of paper. He unfolded it carefully. It was written on his stationary. The handwriting caught his eye, Constance. Bile rose in his throat as he read her beautiful letters.

***

Kenneth,

I will never forget the times that we had. They did not all consist of nightmares. Yet, I will never forget the cruelty you have shown during your long life, not only to I but also to Ian, Sara, and many others. Thus, I leave you as you have left so many others. Alone. Not alone from people, but alone from your many precious treasures. You don't deserve their company. I am going away. Far away where you will never find me. It is not impossible to escape you, Kenneth. The Witchblade, in a final act, saved my very soul. It does not belong to you anymore. Nothing I own or have owned belongs to you. I hope that when you are on your deathbed you will remember what I have done to you. You may be able to save yourself yet.

Constance

PS Start thinking about what you will tell the police and find a good lawyer.

***

Irons tore the letter to shreds and threw it to the ground. He stomped into his bedroom and got dressed. She was going to pay for this.

Streams of soft morning light spilled into Sara's apartment. Her window stood open allowing a cool breeze to sweep around the room and across her queen-sized bed. Sara's hair fell gently upon her face as the wind caressed her face. The sunlight hit her face and opened her eyes into slits. Half awake, she frowned and decided to turn away from the sunlight. She sighed sleepily and rolled over onto her side. She reached out unconsciously to grab a pillow and touched a head full of curly hair. Her hand retracted as if a snake had bitten her. Her eyes opened wide when she saw whom the curly hair belonged to. "What…" She whispered to herself while staring at the handsome assassin. He looked so peaceful lying in her bed. He was wearing a white T-shirt. Sara smiled, "Never seen you wear whit before." She reached a hand out and stroked his cheek. The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smile. He was dreaming. "Dreaming of me?" Sara whispered removing her hand from his face. The nightmarish occurrences that had happened all seemed like a dream now. She wondered if they had been a dream, all of it just an awful nightmare. Sara climbed out of bed to find herself in a white T-shirt like Nottingham. "Already dressing alike." She laughed. She couldn't remember how Ian had ended up in her bed. How close had they been? Instead of being upset, like she usually would have been, she felt safe. Somehow she knew that Ian being here with her was the right thing. Although, she was a little confused. Sara looked at the sleeping man again, and frowned. "I need coffee." She glanced over at her antique clock, 9:30! She was late for work. She ran over to her kitchen and started a pot of coffee. The coffee bubbled and popped in the old pot. Sara preferred using the old pot; it had belonged to her father. Sara had poured herself some Special K cereal and was sitting at her table when she heard the padding of bare feet coming from her bedroom. Sara held in laughter as Ian walked out, half asleep. His hair was sticking up and was falling in his face. His mouth was wide in a yawn. She smiled and scanned his tall form, in the white T-shirt and sweat shorts. "Good morning."

Her voice caught him off guard. His head whipped up and he looked around the room disoriented. "S-Sara?" He looked down at what he was wearing and blushed. Sara motioned her thumb towards her closet and Ian walked slowly over to it and searched it's interior. All Sara could see was his two long legs, bare below the knees, sticking out of her closet. His head reappeared with a smile on it; his trenchcoat was in his hands. He put it on pulling it over his wide shoulders.

He looked over at Sara to find a large smile on her face. She motioned for him to come to the table, "More comfortable?" He only smiled in response and seated himself across from her. He grabbed the box of Special K and started munching handfuls of the cereal. "Well," Sara cocked an eyebrow at him, "Make yourself at home."

He dropped his eyes, scanning the tabletop. "Sara?" He looked up at her with a confused look on his face, "Why am I here?" He dropped his eyes again, "What I mean is…"

"I know." Sara interrupted, "I'm confused too."

Irons had had to call a cab. All of his vehicles and servants were gone. The cab stopped in front of the NYPD station. He had had everything stolen from him. All he had left were is money that he had in the bank and his building. The cop at the front desk looked up, "Why, Mr. Irons, what brings you here?" He chuckled under his breath.

Irons winced and glared at the fat cop, "I am here to report a robbery." His voice was harsh and upset.

The cop smiled, "A man like you I would have expected to use the phone."

Irons gritted his teeth. "I would have if someone had not stolen it. In fact my whole estate was wiped clean. Everything is gone." Irons stared at the cop, "Well?"

"Shouldn't you also be reporting a murder, Mr. Irons?"

Irons swung around to see Jake McCarty. "What are you talking about?"

Jake smiled, "Well, Mr. Irons, there was a man by the name of Francis Goop found shot to death in your office. Care to explain that?" Jake moved towards Irons, pulling handcuffs from his jacket pocket.

"I don not know any Francis Goop. You can not arrest me! I'm here to report a wrong that has been done to me!" Irons voice had become very loud catching everyone's attention in the room.

Jake kept moving towards him, "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can or will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney…"

Irons cut him off, "Oh, you bet I can afford an attorney. The best attorney money can buy! You have nothing on me."

Jake just looked at him and continued telling him his rights, walking him back towards the holding cells.

Sara and Ian sat at the kitchen table in silence. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Ian stared down at his folded hands, his brow furrowed. Sara just stared at Ian bowed head. They knew that what they had both accepted, as a nightmare had been real. Deep down inside they knew the truth. They had both confessed their true feeling for each other and had shown it. The visions flashed through their minds. The battle, the swords, the blood, death. It was all reality whether they wanted it to be or not. Ian had killed her, then taken his own life, yet he sat in Sara's kitchen eating her cereal. They were both breathing, alive. They were also very confused. Sara picked up the now empty box of cereal. Ian's eyes lifted from the table and followed her slender form with his eyes. She tossed the box into the trash and turned around leaning on her counter. Their eyes met and the silence continued. Sara sighed and pulled her eyes away from his and walked towards the table. She reached for the milk and felt Ian's hand stop her. He had never touched her with bare hands. When she thought about it he hadn't ever truly touched her. She turned towards him to see that he was standing, he had a serious look on his face. Sara's heart began to beat faster; the warmth of Ian's hand comforted her. Their eyes met again. Sara dropped her eyes this time. She caught herself looking at his white T-shirt. The cut of his muscles could be seen through the shirt. Sara ran her hands around his waist below his coat and Ian brought a hand to her chin and raised her head to meet his eyes again. Ian's lips touched hers in a virgin kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer. Their bodies were pressed together and Sara felt the Witchblade's warmth against her wrist. The kiss ended as pure as it had begun. Ian moved away and dropped his eyes, "I'm sorry, Lady Sara. I shouldn't have taken advantage of..." Sara opened her mouth to speak, when the phone rang causing them both to jump. Sara picked up the phone, "Hello?" Sara sat down. Ian did the same. "Yes…yes Jake I'll be there…okay…bye." Sara ran over to her bureau and pulled out a pair of jeans.

Ian watched her grab her gun and badge from the drawer by the bed. She ran past Ian while hopping into her jeans. "Going to work?" She only looked at him and grabbed her jacket. The door slammed behind her. Ian stood still looking at the door. A small envelope flew away from the door on the wind the door had caused. Ian walked over to it and picked it up. Sara and Ian were written on it. It was Constance's handwriting.