*1 hour later*
Still exhausted from their brush with death the Wielder and her knight had moved only once the entire day after initially waking up: falling back asleep on the couch that afternoon Sara had, because of a habit formed by sleeping alone, thrashed wildly and fallen off said couch. Her muttered exclamation of "Oh, shit!" had woken Ian. Gently he lifted her up and deposited her onto the bed. Once he had crawled in beside her and carefully put his arms around her shoulders he promptly fell asleep. Their much needed rest was once again disturbed, but now by one of technology's more annoying gadgets: the cell phone.
Ring! Ring!
While still asleep the witchblade began showing Sara a vision.
*Soldiers saluted a figure with cries of 'Heil Hitler!' Fighter planes dropped bombs on London An elegant brunette stepped out of a taxi Lightening flashed, illuminating the same woman now ensconced in ice The view shifted to that of a opulent dance floor and zoomed in on one couple A SS officer and his partner, a dark haired woman with the witchblade on her wrist * Shadows began blurring the edges of the image in much the same way as time does a memory. Reluctantly Sara woke up just in time to hear another strident ring.
"Stupid cell." She grumbled while tumbling out of bed and grabbing the nondescript device from the nightstand. "What the hell do you want, this better be good." Sara groaned as Jake's overly cheerful voice came through the static.
"Pez, I knew I could count on you to be enthusiastic about our new case!"
"Enthusiastic my ass. Now get to your point before I fall back asleep."
"Come on partner it's only ten, I know 14 year olds who stay up later than you."
"Oh yeah, well I doubt even you would hit on someone that underage."
"She's my cousin and I'm not dating her, but that's beside the point. Come on, it's not like you have company or something."
"For your information I do." With only herself to blame for adding fuel to the fire she sighed knowing that a tiring question and answer session was about to commence.
"Oh, you do." Feeling like she had reached through the phone lines and hit him with a tsar he was silent. His morose silence soon gave way to curiosity (and where Sara was concerned jealousy). "So who's the lucky guy?"
"You know I don't kiss and tell." she replied, effectively deflecting the question.
"Point taken I surrender, for now. There's some evidence at the crime scene you'll find worth the trouble." Knowing he had nothing left to say and not wanting further tongue lashing he hung up. Good thing I didn't ask why she wasn't at the precinct yesterday.
After tossing the phone into her jacket she turned around to find Ian staring at her with deep brown eyes still clouded by sleep.
"Sara, if you would only let me I could rid you of this nuisance forever." Indicating by his tone that it would be a pleasure and no work at all to silence the annoying McCartey.
"Thanks for the offer, but we really need to work on your problem solving skills. Sorry, I have to go check out the latest crime scene since that damn McCartey can't do anything by himself. I'll be back soon." After giving him a quick, but passionate kiss she left and hopped onto her bike.
Twenty minutes later she pulled to a stop at an upscale apartment complex. After grumpily shuffling up three flights of stairs she was greeted by yellow caution tape. Stepping over the tape Sara glanced at the apartment's tastefully decorated interior noting that the only sign of a struggle was half of a glass vase lying shattered on the pale blue tiles; that and a picture once housed in a frame, now also on the floor five feet from the glass.
"Detective, you made it." Gesturing at the photo Jake added, "That is what I wanted you to take a look at."
Cautiously Sara pick up the picture and stared into her own emerald eyes and another woman's who looked like her daughter? Something wasn't right~she had no children. Before she could contemplate the mystery further the witchblade threw her into a vision.
* Eyes glowed a feral yellow as shadows snaked out of man's hand Flashbulbs went off at a runway Two snakes hissed and fought each other During all of this a cold, cultured feminine version of Iron's voice echoed: "A murder crafted to appeal to your weakness for vulnerable young women. And a blood heir to the witchblade eliminated." *
To emphasize this last comment the witchblade propelled her straight into the tiled floor. "Ow! Damnation!" she shrieked. From her new perspective a shard of glass with one finger print reflected her dilated pupils.
"Hey, Pez you okay? Are sick?" a concerned McCartey asked feeling somewhat guilty for dragging her to the scene.
"Better than ever, I just found us some prints." Strange, the witchblade has never done that before. It must of thought I wasn't getting the hint and decided to stop with its usual useless vague crap. Shaking her head Sara realized that she was still weak from her near fatal wound. "Jake could you give me a hand, I think I tweaked my ankle or something."
Overjoyed by his luck and an excuse to touch Sara (without getting his head bitten off) he slowly helped her to her feet. Wondering how much he could get away with before she landed him with a restraining order he let his arms linger on her waist.
Delicately she shrugged out of his arms, annoyed that he was coming onto her for the eighty-billionth time. Good thing Ian isn't here or Jake's life span would have come to an abrupt end, she thought wryly.
Disappointed but perversely glad that she hadn't given in to his embrace (part of the allure was that she was that she played extremely hard to get) he managed to say smoothly above the din of conflicting emotions, "Well then, I guess I'll allow you to go back to your apartment and get some "sleep"." With a conspiratial wink he waved goodbye, knowing that that rumors concerning Pezzini and her "sleep" would be all over the precinct the next morning.
A/N: Sry for the delay, after "Palindrome" my muses simultaneously dropped dead of heart failure. I'm contemplating responding to Jessi's challenge, but I can't decide how to begin it (I've already written the ending). If you have any suggestions please email me, I need help! Thanxs and don't forget to review~ everyone knows reviews are the only thing that can revive a dead muse (that and Vanilla Coke). Oh, and I couldn't have written this chapter with out the use of the Watcher's Journal's transcript of "Conundrum".
Still exhausted from their brush with death the Wielder and her knight had moved only once the entire day after initially waking up: falling back asleep on the couch that afternoon Sara had, because of a habit formed by sleeping alone, thrashed wildly and fallen off said couch. Her muttered exclamation of "Oh, shit!" had woken Ian. Gently he lifted her up and deposited her onto the bed. Once he had crawled in beside her and carefully put his arms around her shoulders he promptly fell asleep. Their much needed rest was once again disturbed, but now by one of technology's more annoying gadgets: the cell phone.
Ring! Ring!
While still asleep the witchblade began showing Sara a vision.
*Soldiers saluted a figure with cries of 'Heil Hitler!' Fighter planes dropped bombs on London An elegant brunette stepped out of a taxi Lightening flashed, illuminating the same woman now ensconced in ice The view shifted to that of a opulent dance floor and zoomed in on one couple A SS officer and his partner, a dark haired woman with the witchblade on her wrist * Shadows began blurring the edges of the image in much the same way as time does a memory. Reluctantly Sara woke up just in time to hear another strident ring.
"Stupid cell." She grumbled while tumbling out of bed and grabbing the nondescript device from the nightstand. "What the hell do you want, this better be good." Sara groaned as Jake's overly cheerful voice came through the static.
"Pez, I knew I could count on you to be enthusiastic about our new case!"
"Enthusiastic my ass. Now get to your point before I fall back asleep."
"Come on partner it's only ten, I know 14 year olds who stay up later than you."
"Oh yeah, well I doubt even you would hit on someone that underage."
"She's my cousin and I'm not dating her, but that's beside the point. Come on, it's not like you have company or something."
"For your information I do." With only herself to blame for adding fuel to the fire she sighed knowing that a tiring question and answer session was about to commence.
"Oh, you do." Feeling like she had reached through the phone lines and hit him with a tsar he was silent. His morose silence soon gave way to curiosity (and where Sara was concerned jealousy). "So who's the lucky guy?"
"You know I don't kiss and tell." she replied, effectively deflecting the question.
"Point taken I surrender, for now. There's some evidence at the crime scene you'll find worth the trouble." Knowing he had nothing left to say and not wanting further tongue lashing he hung up. Good thing I didn't ask why she wasn't at the precinct yesterday.
After tossing the phone into her jacket she turned around to find Ian staring at her with deep brown eyes still clouded by sleep.
"Sara, if you would only let me I could rid you of this nuisance forever." Indicating by his tone that it would be a pleasure and no work at all to silence the annoying McCartey.
"Thanks for the offer, but we really need to work on your problem solving skills. Sorry, I have to go check out the latest crime scene since that damn McCartey can't do anything by himself. I'll be back soon." After giving him a quick, but passionate kiss she left and hopped onto her bike.
Twenty minutes later she pulled to a stop at an upscale apartment complex. After grumpily shuffling up three flights of stairs she was greeted by yellow caution tape. Stepping over the tape Sara glanced at the apartment's tastefully decorated interior noting that the only sign of a struggle was half of a glass vase lying shattered on the pale blue tiles; that and a picture once housed in a frame, now also on the floor five feet from the glass.
"Detective, you made it." Gesturing at the photo Jake added, "That is what I wanted you to take a look at."
Cautiously Sara pick up the picture and stared into her own emerald eyes and another woman's who looked like her daughter? Something wasn't right~she had no children. Before she could contemplate the mystery further the witchblade threw her into a vision.
* Eyes glowed a feral yellow as shadows snaked out of man's hand Flashbulbs went off at a runway Two snakes hissed and fought each other During all of this a cold, cultured feminine version of Iron's voice echoed: "A murder crafted to appeal to your weakness for vulnerable young women. And a blood heir to the witchblade eliminated." *
To emphasize this last comment the witchblade propelled her straight into the tiled floor. "Ow! Damnation!" she shrieked. From her new perspective a shard of glass with one finger print reflected her dilated pupils.
"Hey, Pez you okay? Are sick?" a concerned McCartey asked feeling somewhat guilty for dragging her to the scene.
"Better than ever, I just found us some prints." Strange, the witchblade has never done that before. It must of thought I wasn't getting the hint and decided to stop with its usual useless vague crap. Shaking her head Sara realized that she was still weak from her near fatal wound. "Jake could you give me a hand, I think I tweaked my ankle or something."
Overjoyed by his luck and an excuse to touch Sara (without getting his head bitten off) he slowly helped her to her feet. Wondering how much he could get away with before she landed him with a restraining order he let his arms linger on her waist.
Delicately she shrugged out of his arms, annoyed that he was coming onto her for the eighty-billionth time. Good thing Ian isn't here or Jake's life span would have come to an abrupt end, she thought wryly.
Disappointed but perversely glad that she hadn't given in to his embrace (part of the allure was that she was that she played extremely hard to get) he managed to say smoothly above the din of conflicting emotions, "Well then, I guess I'll allow you to go back to your apartment and get some "sleep"." With a conspiratial wink he waved goodbye, knowing that that rumors concerning Pezzini and her "sleep" would be all over the precinct the next morning.
A/N: Sry for the delay, after "Palindrome" my muses simultaneously dropped dead of heart failure. I'm contemplating responding to Jessi's challenge, but I can't decide how to begin it (I've already written the ending). If you have any suggestions please email me, I need help! Thanxs and don't forget to review~ everyone knows reviews are the only thing that can revive a dead muse (that and Vanilla Coke). Oh, and I couldn't have written this chapter with out the use of the Watcher's Journal's transcript of "Conundrum".