Disclaimer: not my characters and part of the story isn't mine. Credit where it's due

This first part is taken from "Moment of Truth" by Blue Raven. Many thanks to Blue for giving me permission to play with her story.

Moment of Truth

He was grateful that Sara walked him up the stairs, but he was reluctant when she offered to come in with him for awhile. As much as he appreciated the offer, all he really wanted was a stiff drink and a pain-pill, followed by a hot shower and bed. Eventually, he gave into her increasing insistence. She was worried about him, a fact which he could not help but find gratifying. Besides, he wanted her to stay. The part of him that wanted nothing more than solitude and oblivion was small in comparison to the part of him that craved the kind of comfort that only a close friend could provide.

So he led her in, through the shop and to the small apartment that he occupied behind it. "You want, um, a drink?" he offered, reaching under the sink and pulling out an almost-full bottle of scotch, old like everything else in his store.

At her nod, he grabbed two water-glasses and half-filled them. He handed one to Sara, placing the other on the end-table near the couch and then walked into the bathroom. As he sifted through the medicine-cabinet for a prescription-bottle, he heard Sara moving around in the living-room, or perhaps the kitchen.

Sighing and closing his eyes against the bloodied and bruised creature in the mirror, he dry-swallowed one of the pills, hoping that it would make a dent in the pounding, burning pain in his head, chest, stomach… in fact, pretty much everywhere in his young body. Half-closing the door, he gingerly unbuttoned his shirt, wincing at the reflection that confronted him. The livid area under his right arm, wrapping around to his chest and stomach, and probably a sizable portion of his back as well, at least explained some of the pain he was feeling there.

"Oh, jeez, Gabriel…" Sara muttered from the door, looking at him. She had thought that the damage to his face would be the worst. She had been wrong. His lean body had more than one bruise, many almost black.

He turned, startled. He considered closing his shirt again, then changed his mind. In addition to the fact that Sara had probably seen far worse, an overly-modest reaction would only have proved Nottingham right about his feelings for Sara. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, though, not wanting to have to look into those pity-filled eyes. His eyes snapped opened when he felt cool hands tugging gently at his shirt. He looked up at Sara as she gently removed the shirt, sliding it carefully off of arms that no longer had a full range of motion.

"I'm sorry they got the film…" he said softly, ashamed and knowing that she would never have allowed them to take it, Witchblade or not.

"Hey!" she said sharply, dropping his shirt and taking his chin in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "No recording is worth your life, Gabriel." She sighed sadly. "I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you because of me."

"So, this is life in your world?" he asked softly. It was not what he had expected, not glamorous or exciting, only frightening and hopeless. God, poor Sara.

Sara nodded grimly. "Welcome to it. You got a first-aid kit?"

He nodded and bent to retrieve it from its location under the sink, but winced. Sara bent around him and got it herself.

"Come on…" she muttered, steering him into the living-room and to the couch. She had a bowl of warm, soapy water and several clean rags waiting. She had satisfied herself in the cab that, despite more than one injury to his head, he did not have a concussion, which meant that she only needed to patch him up and make sure nothing was broken. A homicide cop, she knew from experience that it could have been a lot worse. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Sara, you don't have to do this…" Gabriel told her softly.

She hushed him and dipped one of the rags in the water, wringing it out before dabbing it lightly against the cut on his forehead. As he gasped and pulled away, she gently caught his shoulder and held him in place, letting the hand with the washcloth drop. "Hey, hey, take it easy…" she murmured gently. "Just relax, Gabriel."

"Sorry…" Gabriel muttered, more than a little embarrassed to have flinched away like that. After all, he reminded himself, he had been in worse pain than that in the past, even if he could not think of when. He must have been at some point. Right? Okay, maybe not… He reached blindly for his glass of scotch and took a long pull.

Sara waited until he drained the glass and returned it to the table before she resumed her interrupted care. She could hardly blame him for wanting a drink. She fully planned on going home and getting hammered herself once she had taken care of his injuries and seen him off to bed. She was furious with them for what they had done to Gabe, more furious with herself for not having been there to protect him. As she gently cleaned away the blood that had dripped down his face and forehead, she looked into his brown eyes, sighing deeply. She knew that haunted look from her own mirror. He had lost something very precious tonight and would never gain it back.

Impulsively, she drew him into her arms again, as much to comfort herself as to comfort him. She placed her hands gingerly and held him loosely, not wanting to cause him further pain. With a stifled sob, Gabriel wrapped his arms tightly around her and buried his face in her shoulder. Murmuring soothingly, she moved one hand to the back of his head and just held him. He was not crying, but he was shaking. Fighting tears of her own, she rocked him gently, shaking her head.

"Gabriel…" she whispered. "I am so sorry."

She sighed as she stared at the large bruise on his back. It would take weeks to fade out, she was sure, and would hurt for much of that time. The men who had worked him over had been professionals, and she doubted that any ribs were broken, but she had to check. When he pulled away and straightened up, she bent and began prodding the bruise with gentle fingers.

Gabriel closed his eyes as she worked. It hurt like hell. It also tickled, and he found himself enjoying it a hell of a lot more than he knew he should have. Girlfriend, Bowman, he reminded himself sharply, opening his eyes and leaning out of Sara's reach. God, she was beautiful when she was worried.

"Nothing's broken, Sara…" he told her gently before she could ask why he had pulled away so quickly. "I swear, I'm going to be just fine. Why don't you go home and get some rest? You look fried."

She shook her head. "No, Gabe. I just don't feel right about leaving you here alone now."

Damn. He sighed and nodded. "Get you another drink?" he offered. The alcohol and the pill had combined to make him feel a little light-headed. Mercifully, though, they had also dulled much of the pain.

She shook her head, wanting to get him cleaned up so she would not have to look at the blood that he had been forced to shed tonight. Because of her. She picked up a clean rag and began loosening the blood around the gash on his forehead.

"Danny tells me you have a new girlfriend?" she asked as she worked. She knew that the last one had not worked out, but she had not known that he had found someone else. She needed something else to think about, anything at all but what those bastards had done to her friend. "He didn't catch her name, but he said she looked like an Inga or something…" Sara continued.

She smiled faintly recalling the look on Danny's face when he had described his impressions first of Gabe's shop, or more specifically to some of the items in the shop, and then of his girlfriend. Jake, Danny had declared after sending the rookie off for coffee, seemed to think that Gabriel deserved bonus points because she did not speak English. Danny had seemed far more impressed by the fact that Gabriel spoke Bulgarian.

Gabriel chuckled softly. "Inga. Her name actually is Inga."

Sara smiled faintly, glad that he had someone even if it did make her feel very lonely. She would patch him up, she would put him to bed, she would go home, alone, and he would probably call Inga to come keep him company. God, it had been so long since she had experienced a normal relationship that she could hardly remember what it felt like. He was a lucky man. She envied him. She envied Inga.

She worked in silence, then, brooding over everything that had happened in the past 24 hours. "All done…" she announced finally.

She picked up the bowl and the rags and carried them into the kitchen. The water had taken on an ugly, rusty cast that she did not want Gabriel to see. Blood, his blood, spilled because of her… She emptied the bowl into the sink and turned, surprised to find that Gabriel had followed her into the kitchen. He was holding up the bottle of scotch again.

"Get you that drink now?" he offered.

And now onto the continuation/alternate ending!

Moment of Fear

She hesitated. A part of her wanted to stay, to be comforted by a fellow human being and give comfort in return. A normal human being. "Uh, know what? I should really go home now. I didn't mean to push in here; just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Gabriel nodded as he poured himself some more scotch. "Thanks for patching me up." He lifted the water glass in a toast before draining half of it in one swallow.

"No problem." She turned to leave, already waving nonchalantly before surprising both of them by turning back and catching him in a gentle hug, mindful of his injuries. "Bye, Gabriel," she whispered before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek and hurrying from his shop.

Gabriel watched her go with a growing sense of cold spreading through his chest. Lifting his glass again, he swallowed the rest of the liquid, shivering as it made a burning slice through the coldness. Shaking his fuzzy head, knowing he was missing something and trying to clear his thoughts, he put the glass down with a think before stumbling to his bed and falling into a drugged dreamless sleep.

The night wasn't as kind to Sara. The cab that had taken them to Talismaniac was gone. No doubt placed somewhere for the owners and real driver to find it. Without that transportation or her wallet, she had to walk to her loft. It was an activity she welcomed, hoping the mindless droning movement would help her mind clear of the anger that kept circulating.

She paid no attention to her surroundings as she made her way home, something dangerous for everyone on the streets of New York. Like the activity of walking, she welcomed the threat of violence, hoping that someone would try to mug her so she could work off some of the tension in her muscles. Her legs felt leaden when she finally saw her building and belatedly realized that she didn't have her keys to get in.

It was a problem easily solved by the Asian man sitting on the steps leading to the door of the building. Danny. A shaky smile spread across her features at the sight of his familiar, trusted face and she left herself be pulled into a hug. Her knees weakened under her weight and she sagged against him.

"Danny," she said in a choked voice, hoping that that alone would tell him how glad she was to see him.

"I've got you, Pez," he whispered in answer as he picked her up and carried her up the stairs to the loft she called home. He was frowning as he murmured reassurances to her, for the first time realizing the weight she had lost recently.

Her face was buried against his throat when they went through the door, silent sobs shaking her body. The apartment was spotless, a testament to the efforts of Danny's wife and niece who had spent hours cleaning the place up after it had been tossed looking for evidence.

He made his way to the bed and gently placed his burden on the surface. "Sara." He ran a gentle finger over the side of her face.

In answer she let go of his neck and opened her tightly closed eyes to look at him. "Danny."

"Why don't you try to get some sleep, hmm?" he asked, already tucking the sheets around her prone body. When she sat up and looked around wildly, he reached out and smoothed her hair back. "Don't worry; you won't be alone. I'll be here."

Sara bit her lip and shook her head. Her second offer of comfort in one night. The second offer she had to turn down. "I'll be fine, Danny. Why don't you go home to Lee?"

"Sara…"

She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll be okay, Danny."

"Sara…"

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Danny went against his better judgement and nodded in agreement. Sara could handle a lot, but everyone had their breaking point. Impulsively he reached out to hug her. "It's good to have you back, partner."

She nodded and waited for him to leave, locking the door behind him, before getting up. Knowing Danny, he'd sit outside for a while to make sure she went to bed. It was one of the things about having a partner you trusted with your life; you knew how they worked. Without turning on the light she made her way in the dark to the kitchen. Opening the cabinet that she used to store her liquor, she reached in and grabbed one of the bottles.

Taking a drink directly from the bottle, she nodded in satisfaction. The whisky might not be as good as Gabriel's scotch, but it should do the trick nicely. Her only thought being one of drowning out the battered vision of her friend that hovered on the edge of her sight and the all too clearly imagined sounds of flesh hitting flesh, Sara curled up on the couch and proceeded to drink herself to sleep.

Gabriel woke to a pounding head and a mouth that felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. He groaned and shifted in his bed only to grimace in pain as the movement tore like fire through his body. Guess it wasn't a dream. A nightmare. He lay silently for a moment, checking over his injuries. Glad to reach the same conclusion as last night, that he was seriously bruised but nothing needing medical attention, he braced himself to roll out of bed.

Stumbling slightly at the stiffness that had set in overnight and the aftereffects of the pills and alcohol he had consumed, he slowly made his way to the bathroom to take care of nature's urgent business and to take another pill. Swallowing it with a glass of water, he gazed blearily at the reflection of himself in the mirror. His face was more bruised than it was last night but the lack of dried blood helped out a little.

Welcome to Sara's world, Gabriel.

How do you like it?

Pulling a face at the mirror, he wandered over to the refrigerator and took out a three-fourths filled carton of orange juice before making his way back into the bathroom.

Ruefully shaking his head and regretting the action when the movement set off thundering earthquakes in his head, he turned the nozzle of his shower to a gentle spray before turning the water on hot. Stripping out of his clothes, he stepped under the almost scalding spray, moaning gratefully and resting his forehead against the cool tiles as the heated water worked some magic on his sore muscles. Reaching out, he took a long draught of OJ before setting the curtain back outside on the back of the toilet.

Straightening, he soaked his hair in the hot water and gently worked his fingers through the tangled mass clotted in parts with dried blood. Probing gently, he found the wounds that had bled so badly, ridiculously small wounds. Guessing it was true that scalp wounds bled worse than they really were, he braced himself and stood under the gentle mist, thankful he hadn't needed stitches and wasn't in the hospital. Every once in a while he left the soothing water to take another drink of juice.

The hot water and his pill worked their magic in tandem, dulling the sharp pain to a bearable ache. He rolled his neck, satisfied at the job they had done. Turning off the water and stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel to pat parts of his body dry. His skin still damp, he made his way back to the bedroom and crawled into bed, his eyes on the phone that called his nightstand home. He chewed his bottom lip in indecision while his hand hovered over the plastic before falling away to land on the bed. Sara was probably at work; he'd call her tomorrow. Mimicking his actions of the night before, he closed his eyes and was fast asleep before his next heartbeat.

Sara woke to the worried voices of her partners with a disgustingly clear head. Opening her eyes, she smiled vaguely at Danny before sitting up to glare at her bracelet. Since she had found it… it had found her… her life had been taken over and turned upside down. Sure, deflecting bullets and helping her with healing was great, but couldn't a girl get a little oblivion?

Apparently not.

Danny's worried voice intruded into her thoughts and she became aware of fingers gently biting into her shoulders. "Hey, Danny, what's up?"

He was staring incredulously at her breezy greeting when she disentangled herself from his grip. Without waiting for a reply, she went into the bathroom, ,closing the door behind her with a click and turning on the water for a shower. Watching her disappear from his sight, Danny turned to their rookie partner. "Hey, Jake? Why don't you head out? I can handle this."

Jake sat down on the couch Sara had vacated and put his booted feet on the coffee table. "I'm good. She's a friend of mine too, you know. Besides, never let a partner face a dangerous situation alone. First rule of detective school," he joked in an obvious attempt to diffuse some of the tension between them.

Danny stared unblinking at the blonde man he had considered a good, albeit goofy, police officer. That assumption had taken a beating while watching Jake getting friendlier and friendlier with the Feds who were looking for Sara. Not unless you're the reason there's a dangerous situation, flashed through his mind before he made himself force "I doubt she wants a lot of company" out civilly.

"Then we should both leave, shouldn't we? You're just as much company as I am," he pointed out while smirking at his own cleverness, arms raising to link his hands behind his head.

Losing his admittedly small store of patience with the rookie, Danny reached down and grabbed one of the arms presented, smiling a bit when Jake struggled futilely. "I'm more than a friend; I'm family. One of the things a family does is help out with annoyances."

Jake stared into Danny's dark eyes and felt a frisson of unexpected fear run up his spine. How had he underestimated Danny so much? The normally happy-go-lucky detective flushed and nodded, hoping that the other man would let go of him if he gave his assent to the plan.

"Is there a problem, guys?" brought their attention to the third in their trio of detectives and the lone female. Wet hair dripping onto a light gray T-shirt, she cocked a brow in amusement.

"No, no problem, Sara," Jake mumbled as his arm was let go. Idly rubbing where steel fingers had gouged, knowing he would have bruises tomorrow, he continued with "we were just, uh," he looked around hoping for inspiration. "Talking about getting something to eat. I'm gonna make a quick run to the store," he finished with a nod.

Sara nodded vaguely, her eyes on Danny. "Pick up some cranberry juice, would you"

Jake let himself out of the apartment, his face showing his unease. Reaching the parking lot, he looked up at the window he knew was Sara's, wishing he was there and Danny Woo was down here. Or that he could at least hear what they were saying.

Back in the apartment Sara's brow raised further as the door shuddered on the hinges. "Want to explain that?"

Danny shook his head. "Yeah, but not right now. You're not gonna sidetrack me."

Sara sighed and dropped to one end of the sofa. "Nothing to sidetrack from, Danny. Sorry I didn't go or call in."

"That's not why I'm here and you know it." Danny started pacing around the floor. "Sara, you were on the run from the Feds for killing a friend of yours!"

Sara shrugged. "All in a day's work." Danny's only answer was a snort. All in a day's work. The scary thing was… Lately that statement was the truth. "Besides," she continued, "I wasn't alone."

Danny blinked. "Who were you with?"

"Gabriel."

"Gabriel… Gabriel Bowman? The guy who Ticknor called on his cell right before he died?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" Danny blurted out without thinking, trying to wrap his mind around why his street-smart semi-lone-wolf partner would take a book-smart kid along when on the run. Sure he could probably help with languages or keeping her distracted with conversation, but what else could he do?

Sara shrugged. "We were together when the Feds found us… and they didn't want to bring us in for questioning… They had firepower and weren't afraid to use it. I couldn't drop him off on a street corner and hope they didn't find him when we were being chased. It was safer for him to keep him close."

Danny nodded. Put it that way, he understood; one of the things he could count on with Sara Pezzini were her protective instincts. It was those instincts that made her a great officer and helped him come to terms, with a bit of annoyance, with their new blind faith policy. "He okay?"

Sara shook her head. "They found us. I dropped him off while driving, hoping that he could get away on foot while they concentrated on me. He didn't." She accepted the cup of coffee he gave her, idly wondering why she hadn't noticed the absence before. "They worked him over pretty good, but the worst is some serious bruises. He'll hurt for a few weeks, but he'll be good as new."

"And forever changed."

Sara looked up in surprise at the verbal echo to her own thoughts. Danny's dark eyes were full of turmoil, haunted just as Gabe's had been last night. Just as she knew her own were. "And forever changed," she repeated softly.

Gabriel groaned as his mind fought to surface from the layers of fog that trapped him. There was bright light spilling in from the window and he squinted against it while wondering once again why he'd never bought drapes of some sort. Sitting up with a groan, he stretched a bit, pleased that the pill he had taken earlier was still working. No need for another dose yet.

A knock sounded on the door and Gabriel was debating not answering it when it sounded again. The person on the other side was obviously impatient. Standing slowly, he snagged a towel and made his way through the kitchen and past the cluttered shelves that made up his business. Wrapping the terrycloth around his waist and anchoring it with one hand, he opened the door, oblivious to the picture he must present to whoever was knocking.

It was Inga.

Before she even looked at him, she began talking in a rant of Bulgarian, saying that she had tried to get in touch with him and couldn't, demanding to know where he had been, who he was with. When she finally slowed down and looked at him, a crease formed between her eyebrows. "What happened to you?"

Gabe shrugged, carefully masking the wince that the movement caused. "Just ran into a few problems."

"Problems with those police officers? I had heard stories about American police. Especially the ones in big cities like New York, but I had not believed it." She moved forward, forcing him to walk backwards through the shelving until his knees met his office chair and he sat.

She made sure he was staying seated and went into the kitchen, poking around the cabinets until she found a nearly full bottle of witch hazel. Grabbing one of the rags that Sara had rinsed out and draped across the plastic dish drain, she soaked a part of it with the witch hazel on her way back to him. Walking around him, she took in the sight of his bruised body. "Poor Gabriel," she murmured as she ran one finger gently down his back, her nail accidentally catching on the heated, swollen, discolored flesh.

Gabriel straightened with a hiss only to settle back down when the sharpness of her nail was replaced by the soothing coolness of the witch hazel. He should have asked Sara to do this last night; it probably would have made him feel better this morning. His silence was obviously unappreciated as the gentle patting gave way to rubbing. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"You didn't answer me. Was is those police officers that were here the other night that did this?"

Gabe laughed. "No. They're partners of a friend of mine."

"You are friends with the police and this is still done to you?"

"Something like that. It wasn't the NYPD that caused this though."

Inga nodded distractedly, wetting the cloth again before moving to another part of his body. "You should report this, Gabriel. You have friends who are police. They can help."

He shook his head. "Sara already knows and we don't know the names of the people. Not that it would help much if we did."

"Sara?"

"Yeah, my police officer friend." His head lolled on his shoulders as the relief giving cloth was raised from his lower back to his shoulders.

"A female police officer?"

"Homicide detective, actually. The two guys who were here? Her partners and friends."

Inga nodded, her hands moving in soothing repetitions as her mind made sense of what her lover was telling her. "This Sara, you are close to her?"

"Hmm," he gave as assent. "One of my best friends."

Inga's hands tightened on the cloth, her nails unexpectedly grazing his skin again.

"Ow!" He shifted away from the punishing pressure. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I am just thinking." She handed him the bottle of witch hazel and the cloth as she bent to give him a quick kiss. "I must go." She was out the door before Gabriel could even say goodbye.

Shaking his head and idly wondering what was up with her, he added more witch hazel to the cloth he now held before patting it onto his stomach and chest. Women. Who could figure them out? He mentions a friend of his and his girlfriend goes batty.

Sara leaned back on the sofa and faced Danny. "I'm alright, you know."

Danny nodded hesitantly. "I should have left you alone last night, Sara. Lee knew I was planning on staying here. Chewed me out royally for showing up at home."

"She's two months pregnant and you get kicked out of bed already? Talk about fast work!"

He reached out to lightly cuff her on the back of her head. "None of that, now. She was worried about you, Sara."

She nodded. "Sometimes I'm worried about myself." She stood up and walked over to look out the windows.

"Ready to come clean?"

"About what?"

"Blind faith eyes wide open?" he reminded her.

"Not yet, but thanks."

Danny nodded matter-of-factly. It was the answer he had expected, after all. "What are you gonna do now?"

Sara shrugged, watching the people walking below. "I think I want to take some time off before I go back to work."

Danny left his perch on the coffee table and joined her at the window, reaching out one hand to feel her forehead with the back of it. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, why? I have the days and I haven't taken a sick day in months."

"I know, I know. That's why. Pez, you fight against taking vacations and sick days, and now you're voluntarily thinking about it?" Danny's disbelief colored his voice.

Sara shrugged with one shoulder as she took another sip of her coffee. "I wasn't that close to Dick, but he was a friend. He knew he was gonna be killed for talking to me. I knew it too." When Danny was about to interrupt, she continued, "this whole wanted by the Feds thing, on the run… I just want to sort things out. Get my bearings."

'What do you miss the most?' she heard being asked in her own voice.

'Family. I miss my family,' was answered in the accented voice she knew well from her waking dream.

Danny nodded. It was understandable. Sara's life had been like a roller coaster lately. One where there was no way off.

"It's not too busy at the office, is it? Well, busier than normal," she laughed. "You can get along without me for a while?"

"Sure, Pez. Just don't stay away too long, okay?" He reached from behind her to pull her against his chest in a hug.

"I won't," she promised. All the while wondering if it was a promise she was going to keep.

In her head, she commiserated with the accented voice of JFK. I miss my family too. The ones who are gone, and those who'll be leaving. Because of me.

Moment of Clarity

Someone was pounding on his door again. He surfaced from sleep, pleased that his mind was working a bit better. He was still taking the pain pills occasionally, but he saved them for when he thought he'd need them or his natural pain tolerance was lowered, not wanting to get hooked on them. Standing up and stretching slightly, he made his way to the door in a stumble that was eerily reminiscent of the last time he had opened the door for his girlfriend.

She hadn't been back since.

Gabriel, never one to be called clueless, figured that his relationship with the fair Inga was done. All that was needed were the closing movements to make it official.

From the sounds of the pounding, whoever his caller was now, it definitely wasn't her to take care of said movements. It sounded like a guy. An upset guy.

Unconsciously steeling himself against the possibility of an assault, something he had done for the past two weeks without even being aware of it.

A side effect of time spent in Sara's world.

"Yeah?" He opened the door a crack, making sure to keep the chain secured. Not that it would help much if whoever was on the other side really wanted in.

Dark eyes in a familiar face met his. "Let me in, Gabriel."

He shut the door and unhooked the chain, quickly opening the door again to let Danny Woo in. "Is something wrong with Sara?" he asked quickly. He hadn't talked to her since their misadventure with the Feds. He hadn't meant for it to be so long, but time just kept slipping away in a haze of work, alcohol, and pain pills.

Danny tore his attention away from the cluttered shelves that had so captured his attention last time he was here and looked over at the young man. "I was hoping you would know."

He shifted uneasily. "What do you mean?"

Danny watched the young man carefully, noting how carefully he moved in certain ways. It had been two weeks since the Feds 'worked him over' as Sara had put it, and he was still uncomfortable. They must have done a job on him. "No one's seen her for a week, Gabriel. Not that they're admitting to."

He shifted again, laughing as if that were the funniest joke he'd heard.

"I'm not joking," Danny stated in a low, deadly serious voice.

"You work with her, how could you miss her?"

Danny shrugged and started pacing, something he had been doing a lot since he had visited Sara's apartment and found it empty without any notes on where she'd gone or when she'd be back. "After the whole…fiasco," he waved a hand to encompass it, "she decided to take some time off. She had the time and deserved it. How could anyone say she couldn't? She hasn't even been taking vacation time, but sick leave."

Gabriel nodded, silently willing the Asian to go on.

"About a week ago I went over to her apartment with Lee, my wife. Just to touch bases. Sara's family," he explained in an unneeded aside. "She wasn't there. We've gone back periodically at different times of the day hoping to catch her, but no one's seen her. Not even her neighbors."

Gabe swallowed, his first thought being that the guys who had been chasing them had decided they wanted her back. That it had been a mistake to let her go in the first place. "When's the last time anyone mentioned seeing her?"

"About a week and a half ago. I know she was worried about you; I was hoping she had come to see how you were doing. Or maybe that you'd called her."

He shook his head, remorse clear on his heavily shadowed features. "I kept meaning to but…" He shrugged. "Never got around to it. Kept putting it off, I guess."

Danny nodded in understanding. "You weren't sure how to take what happened."

Gabriel nodded. "It just… It's so far removed from my life. She said it's normal for her. Where's the meeting ground?"

Danny blinked. He had been impressed by the young man before him speaking Bulgarian and knew, from conversations with Sara, that he was extremely smart. He seemed incredibly young and naïve now. "Friendship."

"Huh?"

"The meeting ground. Friendship."

He nodded, a bit unsure of exactly what he was being told. Was friendship strong enough to overcome all these differences? He had used to think so.

Before the differences stopped being abstract and smacked him in the face.

He moved around Danny and sat in his office chair, his hazel eyes looking at the hypnotizing screen saver without really seeing it. His mind was busily going over all the places Sara might have gone.

"Gabriel?"

Danny had been her friend and partner for a long time. He'd know the most obvious places, so that left the ones she hid from everyone. How did you find someone who didn't want to be found?

Gabriel turned around in his chair and looked up at Danny. He stood and collected his jacket from where it was thrown across the back of a chair.

"Where are you going?"

Gabe shrugged. "To find her." He swallowed and looked at the detective before him. "This started with me. Only right it should end with me."

Danny leaned against the desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why don't I like the way that sounds?"

Gabriel made his way along the cracked sidewalk, smiling at the kids playing in the sand and watching the action of a volleyball game absently as he scanned the beach for a familiar figure. Not seeing it, he continued on, hoping that she hadn't decided to be on the other side of the pier. If she was, he'd just start over again.

But she had to be here.

Danny was counting on it.

He was counting on it.

Just when he was about to give up, he saw her sitting on an outcropping of rocks, her knees drawn up under her chin with both arms resting on them.

Her posture screamed 'me against the world!' and Gabriel slowly made his way over the treacherous rocks towards her, almost slipping in places until he could gingerly sit down behind her and wrap her in his arms.

She showed no surprise, as if she had been expecting him. Maybe she had; she did wear the Witchblade after all.

Gently he drew her backwards against him, tugging her rigid body until she relaxed and leaned into him.

He swallowed a sigh of relief. Sara had been drawing away from everyone long before the problems with the government. It had started when the Witchblade had made her feel isolated from her friends, who knew nothing of it, and from the possibility of having a normal relationship in a life that was fraught with danger and dark forces.

'You're not of this world, Sara... And I am.'

Hr remembered the words as clearly as he remembered the loneliness in her eyes. That was when her retreat had begun.

How many people did she call 'friend?' He knew of himself and Danny for sure. Jake was a bit too cocky, good for laughs but nothing serious in any way. She had called the dead FBI agent she had supposedly killed a friend, but he was pretty sure that they weren't that close.

How had she felt, one friend dying and then another basically dropping out of her life?

Maybe one of the most important ones. Gabe chuckled. Not to be egotistical, of course.

But who else knew about the Witchblade? Who else could she talk to about it? Who else could help with it?

"I understand," he murmured in her ear.

"Do you?" was asked after a minute of silence.

"I think so, yeah."

She reached up to tentatively touch the arm encircling her waist. "I'm sorry, Gabriel."

He captured her hand in his. "I know. You don't need to be."

She shook her head. "Gabriel…"

"Shh." He rested his cheek against her hair. "You didn't make Ticknor pick me to talk to, to send the coordinates to. You aren't the one who was after the tape and you aren't the one who beat me up."

A strangled sound escaped her throat as the always too clear vision of a battered Gabriel swam before her.

"It's okay, Sara. I'm okay." He leaned back and turned her in his arms so she could see the proof in his healed face. In his eyes.

She reached one shaking hand up to rest against his stubble-rough cheek as if assuring herself he really was there. "This time."

Gabriel didn't even pretend to misunderstand. "Every time. Sara, nothing's going to scare me away from being a friend."

She struggled against his automatically tightening hold. "Then you're a fool."

"Okay, I'm a fool."

She took a deep calming breath. "You said it yourself, I'm not of this world," she gestured to the innocence to their side. The children still laughing and playing, adults watching over them with smiles.

"I shouldn't have said that," he told her softly.

"No, you were right to. It's the truth. I'm not." She took a shuddering breath before ruthlessly tapping down the emotions that had been hovering on the surface.

"Sara…"

"I'm not," she repeated. "And I shouldn't try to fool myself about it. Every time I do, someone I care about gets hurt."

"Sara…"

"No! She halfheartedly struggled against his hold again, not wanting but craving the closeness. "Gabriel, it's true. Think about it. How many times have you been threatened because of me? What about Danny getting hurt?

You guys… You've been great friends, but everything's different now. I'm different."

Fingers bit into flesh as Gabriel's fingers tightened spasmodically, hoping to provide a tangible link to the hurting Wielder he held. The hurting woman. "Sara, don't talk like that."

Her voice sad but resigned, she shook her head and repeated "It's true. You all have lives, Gabriel. People you love who love you. You don't deserve to be in danger and that's all that being a friend of mine does."

"That sounds like a goodbye," he pointed out uneasily. before feeling something wet and warm splash on his hand.

Sara said nothing as she continued to stare into the blue expanse before her.

"No. Sara, it's not goodbye." Again, he got no response and, ignoring the screaming in his abused muscles, his fingers dug into her shoulders as he lifted and turned her to face him. Settling her unresisting body on his lap, he looked into the shuttered green eyes. "Sara, listen to me. It's not goodbye. Do you honestly think that I'd accept it? That Danny would?"

She gave a halfhearted shrug. "Eventually."

"Never!" He ran his thumb gently over one of the tear tracks drying on her cheek. "Sara, living itself comes with risks. You can't ask anyone to be afraid to live because of them."

She broke eye contact and looked down at the hands tightly clasped together in her lap. "You shouldn't look for more."

"Who's looking?" Yet again, there was no response. "Sara, you're a part of my life that I have no intention of letting go of." He gently pried her hands apart to hold them in his.

Resting his head against hers and inhaling the vanilla of her shampoo and the salt from the ocean air, he closed his eyes.

"Never," he said again, offering a solemn promise to the Wielder whose destiny was to save the world, the woman who was afraid of what that destiny entailed, himself, and any God which was listening.

As always…..reviews are welcome. Hope you liked it!

Also… not sure if this is being continued…. Maybe, but probably not. This does count as an ending if it's not, okay? 'Tensions Released' counted as an ending also…. But no one agreed with me about that one, so I'm warning you with this one!