Sara Pezzini groped for the alarm clock until her semi-conscious brain recognized that it was the telephone ringing. With a rather unladylike grunt she levered herself up on one forearm to stretch blindly for the cordless on the makeshift nightstand. She was halfway through the familiar motions before she realized that there was something very unfamiliar going on. She pried open her eyes to stare down at the bed's other occupant. Ian Nottingham was trying unsuccessfully to hide a grimace at the elbow digging into his sternum.
For a moment she was at a loss for words. Though she had grown accustomed to his presence in her dreams and even to his nightly occupation of the floor beside her bed, his current proximity was a little unsettling. What had seemed like such a logical progression the night before seemed mildly insane in the cold light of day. It occurred to her now that not even once had she ever sat down for a normal conversation with this man. Not in this lifetime.
It was undoubtedly difficult for him to drop his head into its usual subservient posture while lying flat on his back, but his downcast eyes managed to convey the same sentiment. She reflexively pushed her fingers against his chin although his head had not moved. She was as surprised by the spontaneous gesture as he was, but oddly pleased when his troubled gaze rose to meet her eyes again.
"Pez? Yo Pez? You there?"
She started at the voice in her ear. "Huh? Yeah, Jake. What is it?"
"You oversleep or something?" the rookie's voice crackled on the line. "We got a body in an alley down off Harrington. Want me to swing by and pick you up on my way?"
"No, Jake. I can uh..." Her words trailed off as Ian's head tilted ever so slightly against her hand and her fingers slid along his jaw.
"Pez?"
"Yeah? I mean, no. No, I'll meet you there in forty minutes."
"You sure?" She could almost see his puzzled frown and subsequent shrug. "Alright. See ya then."
Sara remained still, holding the phone to her ear and staring down at Ian as the dial tone quietly hummed. He raised a hand, palm upward, and she placed the phone in it. He returned it to the nightstand without looking away from her face. She shifted her weight off the elbow that had been digging into his chest and tried to decide how to deal with this... situation.
Surely over the millennia they'd been in this position many times before, she thought. But no 'next step' came immediately to mind. Perhaps pulling him into her bed before they'd formally acknowledged their shared history had thrown things off-track. On the other hand, that part actually felt strangely familiar. Patience never had been her strong suit - in this lifetime or any other apparently.
There were only two ways to go, she decided. Back off in confusion and deny the truly impossible or dive in headlong and embrace the impossible truth. She could admit that she'd gone off the deep end at Danny's death and was now delusional, psychotic, and emotionally unstable. Or she could believe that she really was destined to wield a supernatural weapon, converse with ghosts, and fall for the same hazel-eyed warrior across countless centuries.
She sat up abruptly.
"I have to get to work," she said over her shoulder as she scooted toward the far edge of the bed. "If I'm not there in half an hour Jake'll probably call out the cavalry." His fingers brushed across her retreating back and she paused involuntarily at the silent plea. She reluctantly turned to look at the reproachful expression that she knew he would be wearing. "Don't make that face at me," she protested weakly. "I thought I was ready. And I am. Just not right this instant, okay?" She sighed at his meek nod and rolled her eyes out of habit. "Big, wooden, rectangular thing," she said, pointing toward the apartment door. "Knock on it tonight, for once, and we'll... talk. Okay?"
His nod was a little more certain this time. He didn't move as she rose to head for the bathroom, but when she reemerged just a few minutes later he was already gone.
It was going to be a long day, she thought. And possibly an even longer night.
For a moment she was at a loss for words. Though she had grown accustomed to his presence in her dreams and even to his nightly occupation of the floor beside her bed, his current proximity was a little unsettling. What had seemed like such a logical progression the night before seemed mildly insane in the cold light of day. It occurred to her now that not even once had she ever sat down for a normal conversation with this man. Not in this lifetime.
It was undoubtedly difficult for him to drop his head into its usual subservient posture while lying flat on his back, but his downcast eyes managed to convey the same sentiment. She reflexively pushed her fingers against his chin although his head had not moved. She was as surprised by the spontaneous gesture as he was, but oddly pleased when his troubled gaze rose to meet her eyes again.
"Pez? Yo Pez? You there?"
She started at the voice in her ear. "Huh? Yeah, Jake. What is it?"
"You oversleep or something?" the rookie's voice crackled on the line. "We got a body in an alley down off Harrington. Want me to swing by and pick you up on my way?"
"No, Jake. I can uh..." Her words trailed off as Ian's head tilted ever so slightly against her hand and her fingers slid along his jaw.
"Pez?"
"Yeah? I mean, no. No, I'll meet you there in forty minutes."
"You sure?" She could almost see his puzzled frown and subsequent shrug. "Alright. See ya then."
Sara remained still, holding the phone to her ear and staring down at Ian as the dial tone quietly hummed. He raised a hand, palm upward, and she placed the phone in it. He returned it to the nightstand without looking away from her face. She shifted her weight off the elbow that had been digging into his chest and tried to decide how to deal with this... situation.
Surely over the millennia they'd been in this position many times before, she thought. But no 'next step' came immediately to mind. Perhaps pulling him into her bed before they'd formally acknowledged their shared history had thrown things off-track. On the other hand, that part actually felt strangely familiar. Patience never had been her strong suit - in this lifetime or any other apparently.
There were only two ways to go, she decided. Back off in confusion and deny the truly impossible or dive in headlong and embrace the impossible truth. She could admit that she'd gone off the deep end at Danny's death and was now delusional, psychotic, and emotionally unstable. Or she could believe that she really was destined to wield a supernatural weapon, converse with ghosts, and fall for the same hazel-eyed warrior across countless centuries.
She sat up abruptly.
"I have to get to work," she said over her shoulder as she scooted toward the far edge of the bed. "If I'm not there in half an hour Jake'll probably call out the cavalry." His fingers brushed across her retreating back and she paused involuntarily at the silent plea. She reluctantly turned to look at the reproachful expression that she knew he would be wearing. "Don't make that face at me," she protested weakly. "I thought I was ready. And I am. Just not right this instant, okay?" She sighed at his meek nod and rolled her eyes out of habit. "Big, wooden, rectangular thing," she said, pointing toward the apartment door. "Knock on it tonight, for once, and we'll... talk. Okay?"
His nod was a little more certain this time. He didn't move as she rose to head for the bathroom, but when she reemerged just a few minutes later he was already gone.
It was going to be a long day, she thought. And possibly an even longer night.