The Liberation of Ian Nottingham Pure Mystery Chapter Twelve The Harder They Fall, a witchblade fanfic

Please take some time and give me some feed back as to how the storyline is progressing. Thanx!

Excerpts from "Short People"

By: Randy Newman

Excerpt from:

The Secret Garden

By: Frances Hodgson Burnett

CHAPTER TWELVE…

THE HARDER THEY FALL

"It is not forgive and forget.

It is forgive and learn. Never forget the Past."

Aratee

Gossamer strands had found their way around Ian's nose and caught on his eyelashes waking him. Trying to puff the strands away from his face was successful. He found himself cuddled tightly around Sam, embracing her in a near 'death-grip'. When he realized how tightly he was holding her, he attempted to disengage himself without waking her. Sensing another presence in the room made him freeze and scan the room. Between the bed and window was a translucent, well endowed creamy skinned woman with eyes that rivaled the purest of emeralds with gleaming long, wavy sable, hair. She wore a delicate gown on which Ian thought he saw "moving images". It was as though a live video feed was wired into her garment.

"Ma" Nature reclined on an invisible chaise lounge and watched Ian's reaction, knowing he would remain calm. It was her will and within her power. Having found the 'missing couple', she would reward herself by trifling with what the humans would describe Ian as, 'fresh meat'. Samsara would not be interrupting the conservation she planned to have with the young mortal.

"Hush Young Ian, Don't fret about your arm around Samsara." She spoke with her mind. A kind smile lifted the corners of her lips. Her long gown focused on a part of the rain forest, and all the creatures, plants and insects that were living around a particular pool. She was amused by the flood of emotions that raced across his face.

Fear, embarrassment, surprise, wonder, of all these emotions worry overrode and he opened his mouth to respond. Nature shook her head and put her finger to her lips and then tapped her temple. It took a moment then Ian nodded his understanding.

"My strength is more than most and I do not want to break Sam's ribs or cause her harm." He thought as loud as he could. Squinting his eyes with the effort.

Mother Nature nearly fell off her air divan from the mental blow Ian had inadvertently heaved at her.

"Not so loud." She cried mentally, bringing her hand up to her head as if to ward off a blow. For a moment the images on her gown were replaced with volcanoes that were active, lava and smoke spewing into the sky. "Think at the same volume you would speak. As for Samsara, she will not be harmed, even by your strength." Her laugh was deep, the rumble before an avalanche.

Ian looked skeptical. Glancing down, he was encouraged by Sam's relaxed, warm breathing. She held his hand tightly against her chest. The heat of her body radiated off his bare chest. Her scent was intoxicating; his body reacted to her and he recalled what she had said earlier, "Very male". Smiling at the memory, he was becoming aware of how much he appreciated her patience and sense of humor. He felt her friendship, support and had shown him sincerity. Glancing down at her, he became conscious that their relationship was a living, growing thing. Sam believed in him; he was sure of that.

Looking up, he met the eyes of the ageless, picturesque woman before him. There was no perceptible aura which sent a shiver up his spine. He had many questions, but decided it would be safer to have Sam awake before proceeding.

The woman shook her head, "Samsara will sleep during our conversation." Gaia knew the other Incarnations had often labeled her fickle, mainly because of her gender. She was no more or less capricious than the rest, her actions were just more apparent. Nature waited for Ian's reply.

"Why? Why can she not be a part of our conversation?" Ian almost forgot and had to literally bite his tongue. He became aware his agitation would wake Sam, so he took a moment to concentrate and found his center. Returning his attention to the voluptuous woman, he waited with a steely-eyed stare.

"Because, I want to speak to you 'alone'." She made the quotation marks with her hands. Sam will always be your 'safety net', but I wanted to impart some information to you. It is not a secret; it is just some things that you need to know. Understand?" Her look was that of a strict school proctor. It allowed for no questions, let alone backtalk.

Ian nodded; grateful Sam was holding his hand.

"I suppose we should do this properly. I know who you are, but you don't have a clue who or what I am, right?"

"Right," Ian responded mentally, half holding his breath.

"I am the Incarnation of 'Nature'. She waited to see how he would accept this information; when he did not flinch or look uncertain, she continued. "There are other Incarnations you will meet since you have come to be closely associated with Samsara. You asked Samsara about her platinum streaks?"

Ian nodded, certain he didn't want to know the answer, but he knew he was out of luck.

"She got her first one by running into Death. Literally. She was healing a woman whose time had come and Death stepped into the room just as she was heading into the other room for water and Bam, he almost knocked her down. Boy! She was furious!"

Gaia smiled, remembering Death gesturing with his boney hands and how he bumped into the Divine One. "She wasn't even afraid of me, and I am Death," he said with a rattling noise which was his laugh.

"What happened next," his mental voice whispered. He could visualize Sam angry, not even backing away from Death. Ian didn't know which was more compelling, her fearlessness, or her kindness. Sam's unassuming demeanor was one of her best weapons, as well as her unlikely defense. He felt honored to have her as his friend. His concentration returned to the story regarding his beautiful 'bedmate'.

"Death puffed himself up, and said "I am the all powerful Death, stand aside while I tend to my business.'" Nature managed to simulate the 'all-powerful Oz voice' as Sam had dubbed it. She saw Ian smile. "Well Samsara was not impressed by the voice, or 'I'm better than you are tone, so she said 'no, you cannot have this woman'. Death said, 'It is her Time to die'." So Sam spoke to the dying woman. The woman was in a great deal of pain, but she wanted to live long enough to see her daughter married, which would've been in two days. So my Lady patted her hand and conferred with Death.

She told him that the woman wanted to see her daughter get married which would be in two days, so Sam asked for five days and that she would stay with the woman to keep the pain at bay so the mother would be able to enjoy the festivities. Death asked, "If the daughter is getting married in two days, why are you asking for five?"

Sam looked at him, "Think of it as a wedding present. If the mother dies the same day of the wedding, everyone would grieve. For the young couple to have a chance to start a happy marriage, the mother needs to be able to participate in the wedding, and be home when they return from the end of their brief wedding trip. The mother would have the chance to see her daughter happily married. More importantly, the woman would have a chance to make peace with her family and ready to leave this life. Humans have a hard time saying good-bye, especially 'loved-ones'".

"Death agreed on one condition", she paused to see if Ian was paying attention. Watching him under her eyelashes, she observed that his and Sam's auras merged and flowed, complimenting each other. This bodes well for the Prophecy, she noted.

Ian had another question he was holding, but he knew he had to ask what Death's condition was. Sighing deeply, he looked at Nature, mentally asking, "What was the condition?"

"For the woman to have her five days, Sam must be the one to take the life-force from the woman's body along with her soul." His voice brooked no argument or barter, stated the Earth Mother.

Ian felt the color drain from his face; he knew Sam would rather give her own life than take that of another. Their binding had imparted most of the equivalent of over twenty-five years of each other's past, beliefs, hopes and dreams. His eyes had dropped away from 'Nature'. After regaining his composure, he returned his focus to the vast woman and asked, "What did she do?"

Gaia took a deep breath and looked down a moment, and then looked up and met Ian's stare.

"She took the woman's life and soul, but she did not give them to Death. Instead, Samsara took them to their destinations." Tears glistened on the Earth Mother's flawless face, shimmering, liquid crystals. Death, as well as the other Incarnations were astonished that someone would care so, to…" She stopped and broke eye contact.

Ian had a definite sense that the place Samsara had to take the life force and soul was not a usual, let alone easy journey. He was beginning to feel like he was part of a large metaphysical puzzle. His gaze drifted down to Sam's sleeping face. How he wished she were awake, just for moral support. Her leaned over and pressed his lips onto her bare shoulder, relishing the smidgen of skin under his lips. As he started to sit upright, her hand squeezed his and a fleeting thought passed through is mind. Don't let on. He could not sense her passage, but he knew she was with him.

She glanced down and caught Ian kissing the Divine One's smooth skin; her eyes scanned his aura and noticed his feelings were more significant than she had first recognized. The signs of neediness, companionship and friendship, represented by various gray and brown foggy shades that had been the overriding elements of his metaphysical appearance had receded and other, bright, positive colors were appearing.

A sparkle of true love had broken free from its cloudy crystal prison and had swept through his aura. A streak of pure red formed eddies, paisley, feathery, windswept, cubist forms all around his physical being. They changed constantly. 'Nature' caught her breath, Ian's love for their Divine One was True and selfless. The Holy One had the same feelings for Ian, True love and selflessness, but refused to acknowledge them, believing he was spoken for by the Wielder of the Witchblade. She had no desire to tear him away from the woman he loved. I've loved and lost before, it just happens to be my karma; Sam lied to herself. Gaia was aware of the Divine One's self deception.

Gaia and the Incarnations knew the "True" Witchblade "Guardian" was not a true warrior like Ian. Irons had cleverly planted the seed that Ian would be the Guardian, when in reality, Irons planned on using the Blade for his own use. The "True" Protector would be able to defend himself, but his main purpose would be to determine the Evil, when where and how to take it down with as few innocents getting hurt, and to watch the BladeWielder's back. Ian was intent on watching Sam and didn't notice that the Earth Mother had been quiet.

The other crystal-types of love which lent their color to the rainbow were "loyal protector love" which defined his feeling for the BladeWielder. His desperation to be loved had started to twist and discolor the 'protector love' into the 'love a man has toward a woman he truly desires'. An important 'crystal-type' love was crumbling with each truth uncovered, was that of the young toward their 'guardian' or father/mother figures. The love toward Irons as 'father' was disintegrating and falling in chunks; it was likely this trip would end any feeling of affection toward Irons. Nature noticed this silently, not wanting to disrupt the moment Ian had with Samsara.

"Where were we?" Nature dabbed her eyes with what appeared to be petals from an exotic flower that vanished after her use. "The reason I related that story to you was because your life has become entangled with Samsara's. I can change that, right after this trip. You will be a free man. Not having to answer to anyone, no Incarnations to muddle up your life, your memory of Sam will be like a dream. A very good dream. Would you like me to do that?"

Ian looked at her as though she had grown a second head. "No, I do not. I want to stay with Sam." He looked down at Sam. "If she will have me."

The ample woman laughed and stood up from her invisible chaise. The moving scenes had changed into a city scene with people in a park and the squirrels stealing food from picnicker's lunch bags, trees looked stately even among the tall concrete and glass buildings. She approached Ian who stayed perfectly still. Nature reached out her heavy-set hands with beautiful fingers and traced a pattern on his visible bare chest. He did not flinch from her touch.

"Each Incarnation, when they are first formally introduced to a mortal, leave what could be considered a "badge of honor", with Sam, her's are unusual, but they are the platinum streaks. Yours," she met his look, "will be tattoos that remain in one place but will change. Mine is a tree, it will grow, leaf and in the autumn the leaves will fall. In the spring, it will bud, leaf and flower. Your days will be reflected with the tattoo, calm days the tree may act as though it has a calm breeze rustling the branches, stormy days the tree will whip back and forth." She shook her head, "there will be no pain, but you will know it's there and cannot be removed."

"I have a question", Ian blurted. He'd been holding his question, afraid he would forget. The look on Mother Nature's face at being interrupted almost made him wish he had forgotten it.

"What is it then?" She was getting bored and wanted leave and work on another project. She knew when she was done Time would pop in, give not only the ground rules, but a heavy lecture and she did not want to be around for that.

"You referred to Samsara as 'my lady', why?" He squeezed Sam's hand when he saw an indescribable appearance settle upon Gaia's features. He observed her mentally going over their conversation, discovering where she made her slip of the tongue. He felt his throat go dry.

Her eyes were harder than diamond and she pulled herself up to full size, radiating an incredible amount of power. She was more formidable than Irons on a bad month. "I suggest you forget what you think you heard." She slipped, her mental voice changed slightly, as though speaking to someone of a lower class, someone mentally challenged. "This is nothing that concerns you."

Ian practically shrank behind Sam. If this was intimidation, it was working. He willed himself to be anywhere but in front of her.

"That is an intolerable answer, as well as a totally deplorable tone of voice. I expect a full, sincere apology or I will put you in charge of only pollinating tomatoes." Sam's voice was soft but her direct tone carried. Her eyes were open, bright and clear.

"Samsara?" Nature met Sam's eyes which held no amusement.

"I know, I'm supposed to be asleep while you have your little one-on one with Ian, like you're more powerful than I." She wiggled back into Ian, turned and looked at his chest. "Hey Handsome, nice tree you got there." She jockeyed her position so she could run her fingers over it; it also put her on her back looking up at Ian.

Her touch stoked the fire which burned for her. He bent down and stopped a half an inch away, "Do I have permission to kiss the Incarnation's 'Lady'?

Sam flicked her eyes over to Gaia who had gone quite white. "I'm sorry. I..."

"Will you answer my question now? And, may I kiss your Lady?" He asked just to see her respond.

""She is our 'Lady'; more powerful in many aspects than the BladeWielder you have consider a Lady." We as Incarnations are her servants; it really is up to her as to whether or not you may kiss her. I am so sorry for my reactions, will you please forgive me?" She was almost wringing her hands, peering at Ian hopefully.

"I forgive you, will you give Sam and I a few moments alone?" He nuzzled Sam's neck, reveling just being with her.

"Yes, but I do have important information regarding the time period, dos and don'ts," she interjected.

"Gotcha Ma, call you back in after a few minutes." Sam's voice was like a balm. Nature smiled, she was still 'Ma' to Sam and she was reassured. Bobbing her head, she slipped into the hall.

Ian studied the beauty he was leaning over. Her luminous lavender eyes sparkled and her full lips just begged to be kissed. "She said it was up to you about being kissed."

Sam gave him a teasing smile, "Do you feel lucky?" She asked in her best Clint Eastwood voice.

To hell with games he thought, slipping one arm under her body, the other under her shoulder and back of the neck so he could cradle her head. He started with light kisses from the opening of the pajama shirt, just above the breast bone, leaving feathery kisses on every bit of bare skin he could find. Continuing up her neck and delicate throat, all over her face with her unable to catch him with her lips, he was going to continue until he heard her faint request.

"Do you think you could pause long enough and give me a real kiss, one that comes straight from your heart; one you really mean." Her eyes were on him steadily, and her arms found their way around his neck. "Do you think you could pause long enough and give me a real kiss, one that comes straight from your heart; one you really mean." Her eyes were on him steadily, and her arms found their way around his neck.

When he drew away to observe her face, it suddenly hit him that for all that he'd been through, he was falling in love with her. Not because she saved him. There was something more to the trust that she placed in him and more to the way she looked at him. She'd given him a piece of her heart, without fanfare, but with undying trust and no expectation of it being returned. As this comprehension seeped through his consciousness, he gathered her tenderly into his arms.

He lightly kissed the corners of her lips. Her lips were soft and as subtle as fresh rose petals. He began to kiss her and suggestions/memories came into play from where and when he could not remember; he was to lightly have his mouth open and touch her tongue. He didn't think anything would happen and then her tongue met his and it was like an electrical stream flowed between the two of them. He was disappointed that they couldn't share their experiences like before.

Sam caressed his cheek as he reluctantly drew back. Her eyes searched his and she saw his disappointment.

"Not all our kisses or physical interactions are going to be like what you first experienced on the beach. That was for a reason, and when we achieve the mutual sensation level, we are creating a great deal of power. Power needs to be directed, or innocent lives could be lost." Sam ran her finger along the soft skin just above his beard line, making him smile in spite of himself. "Besides, I can't guarantee that you will experience that with any other lovers you're going to have."

"I'm not going to have any other lovers, only you." He looked down, "if you will have me?"

Sam shook her head, "You're spoken for Ian. I will not come between you and your Lady." She felt like her heart was in a vise, an unforgiving pain.

They turned simultaneously to the knock on the door. Mother Nature had a chagrined expression.

"I'm sorry, Samsara, but I couldn't help but overhear." She edged into the room. "The Others and I believe you and young Ian have a right to know. That is part of the reason of this trip."

Sam rolled her eyes, Ian turned onto his side to see the velvet skinned woman better. Sam puffed up the pillow behind her.

"Okay, spill the beans." Her patience was running low and her hunger was rearing its ugly head.

There was an implosion and a man wearing a 1940's bearcat coat, ratty coonskin cap, belly-dancer see-through pants and belled anklets with Norwegian clogs. His coat fell open as he turned to face Sam and his t-shirt read "Imagine Whirled Peas".

"There you are! He said, oblivious to the tension in the room. "I have some very important…"

"Pssst" Nature hissed at Time, who looked at her surprised.

"Oh, you still here, fancy that. Now…" He started again and suddenly he discovered he had no voice, he turned and glared at Gaia.

"I was just getting ready to tell them." She widened her eyes, pointed to her wrist, "the Truth."

Time's face went white and he looked over at Sam and Ian who had become even more interested.

"You seem to know, tell us Tick-Tock Man!" demanded Sam. Her hand had found Ian's arm, she wasn't sure if the news was bad or good.

Time started to point as his throat when the female Incarnation nodded. She received a glare for her 'reward'.

"Um," he cleared his throat, "we, All the Incarnations and I, know that Ian," he half gestured to Ian, "is not the True Witchblade "Protector/Guardian". His presence defeats the purpose." Time holds his hand up, palm out toward Ian, "No offense, but a warrior guarding a warrior is a waste. The True "Protector" will be able to protect himself and guard the Bearer's back. But in reality, the Guardian is the person who determines Evil's path, the when, where, and how and most importantly how to take it out without involving or losing innocents. It is when the Witchblade Bearer takes the wrong "Guardian" or in Joan of Arc's case, no 'human Guardian', does the Blade abandon the Bearer. If you continue and insist on being Ms Pezzini's "Guardian, you sign her death warrant and possibly yours. More than likely, the Blade will make sure you live, so you will know that you were responsible for the Bearer's Death."

"That's enough, I'm getting a feeling you are telling fairy tales. Just tell us the Itinerary and…" Sam's voice trailed as she watched Tick-Tock keep his eyes on Ian, who hadn't spoken.

His gaze held Ian who looked like he'd been pole axed. Time walked to the edge of the bed.

"Ian," he waited until he saw a ragged soul, slowly on the mend, now lost, its only tether was to a light in the darkness. "You do have a very important purpose," Time bit his lip.

Ian felt as though he'd been kicked in the teeth. His entire life had been structured to protect the BladeWielder, but Thing One, as Sam had introduced him was correct and he had never questioned Irons. It was foolish for a warrior to protect a warrior. He knew he had been used, a guinea pig, nothing more than a tool and not even human.

For the first time he was able to think clearly. He'd never been treated like a human being, with even the minimum of rights. As Ian reflected on how Irons doted on his acquisitions, his fury grew.

Slowly he became aware of a cool hand on his cheek, blinking, he saw the violet luminous eyes of his Lady. Not Sara. Sam. She was the first person to see him as a man. She understood his obligations and would not obstruct the path he thought was correct. He'd never had a friend. Never knew anyone like her that was so giving, she expected nothing. He paused mid-thought, no she did expect something but not for her, it was more of a hope than an expectation, his happiness.

Ian wasn't sure how he'd passed through the anger, but he knew he reconciled the rage with Sam's help regarding his abysmal treatment by Irons. He only remembered a couple of phrases Sam had whispered in his ear. "I'll stand in front of you to take the slings and arrows, I will pull you when you hesitate, I will push you to get you started, I will stand beside you to give you strength and support and I give you my love so that you might fly and touch your dreams."

Between Time and Nature, Ian understood that Sara was not his 'Lady', but he would still "stand guard" until the proper "protector" was located. He would also have a hand in the individual's training, and that gave him a sense of passing the torch, which made him feel better.

Time stood rubbing his hands, looking exhausted. He had enough strength left to "download" the information into Sam. The info was needed for helping Ian, now 'Chris' in this timeline have a glimpse of his past, in doing so, hopefully spark some memories that Irons may have missed when 'reprogramming' Ian. Ian would also understand the person he would be impersonating.

Nature had to check on one of her eruptions and left without warning. Just like her, fumed Time. Making time pockets for strong and negative emotions zapped the strength from him. Luckily, Sam was able to maneuver and absorb the worst, leaving Ian with a vague memory. Nottingham's psyche was going to be put through more cynicism, gloom, loss and pessimism than 100 sane people should bear over a lifetime. Evil had somehow gotten into the mix, so when Ian took the time to go through exactly what happened, it was very possible he might have a psychotic break or a brain embolism.

Their cover story was simple. Ian would be known as Chris, a shortened form of his middle name. They had met during the Vietnam War. He'd met Sam overseas, where she was a Doctor at one of the MASH units, which was closer to the "front" than it was supposed to be. Her orders said Dr. Sam Clark, so she was up close and personal with a number of the wounded. He'd been a SEAL, took some shrapnel while trying to save a downed buddy. They both made it back, the buddy got a ticket back to the States and she stitched 'Chris' up just to go and fight again. Like every red blooded male, he wanted to know if she was free after the war. She'd made some remark about helping old people who didn't shoot back. He went looking for her when the war was over and found her helping the really young ones who couldn't even hold a gun. When he accused her of giving him a false lead, she just shook her head and apologized, telling him it was still to close to Death for her taste. He was honorably discharged and going to Cal-Tech on GI bill. Newly-weds, they were starting a new life after a meaningless war.

They would be staying only "two days", in reality it would be a day in one year and a day in another year. After that, Ian and Sam would have a brief time pocket so Ian could grasp and understand all the information he'd acquired, she'd monitor his status and act as a filter when necessary. All their clothes, money and identification were in the two suitcases. The house was "special" They could bring food or other items in, except people. Only they could come and go as they pleased. Time peered at Sam and then looked at Ian, almost sorrowfully. "There is another bathroom downstairs, but it only has a shower." Time barely felt the words pass his lips when Sam whooped, springing free from Ian's grip. Her feet barely hit the floor as she bounded out of bed, startling Ian.

Ian caught a glimpse of her grabbing a towel and robe before dashing into the bathroom. Within thirty seconds the tub was filling with water, and the two males were transfixed outside the door.

"I don't understand," Ian gestured at the door.

Time grimaced, "She was at a monastery for ten years without hot water." He shook his head, "I suppose I can do one more little time pocket, but," he glared at Ian severely, "don't tell her I did."

Ian shook his head, "Not a word."

Time pushed his sleeves up looked around as if he were forgetting something, then popped out of sight.

The acoustics of the bathroom carried Sam's happy humming. Ian smiled, and he realized that it felt good and he definitely had something to smile about. While Sam enjoyed her bath, he decided to look through the suitcases. They were both large and a little worn, gray Samsonites. He was ready to jimmy the lock when he noticed a key on the night-stand. Unlocking the suitcase, he flicked open the latches. The acoustics of the bathroom carried Sam's happy humming. Ian smiled, and he realized that it felt good and he definitely had something to smile about. While Sam enjoyed her bath, he decided to look through the suitcases. They were both large and a little worn, gray Samsonites. He was ready to jimmy the lock when he noticed a key on the night-stand. Unlocking the suitcase, he flicked open the latches.

**********

Gabe Bowman just finished cleaning his bathroom. He felt a sense of satisfaction as he placed the cleaning solutions and wipes in the closet next to his bathroom. He would have been embarrassed if anyone had caught him in the act of cleaning, but truth be told, he liked having a clean bathroom and kitchen. No one yet had noticed he dated all his "take out" containers in his refrigerator, but the days of having to scavenge were over. He'd invested in a compact washer and dryer so he never had to leave his place to wash and wait to dry his clothes. He could cruise cyberspace while his towels were treated to 'springtime freshness'. The phone ringing from the depth of his shop caught his attention, he headed to an extension, however, when he heard his contact in China yelling over the answering machine, he hurried to the extension picked up and punched in the override code.

"Whoa, Yuan. I'm here. Slow down, what's wrong?" He'd never heard his imperturbable friend so upset. He heard his old companion take a deep breath.

"I went down to get the proper papers so I could bring it to the United States. The woman called somebody," he paused, "it didn't feel right, so I left and hid it." He took another breath, closing his eyes against the memory of uniformed officials starting to pursue him out of the offices as he ducked through buildings and squalid alleys, through one of his uncle's warehouse, where he found a safe and dry place to hide his treasure. He knew it would be safe; things he had secreted since he was a small boy had remained intact and undamaged for many years.

"Yuan, you okay man!" Gabe practically yelled. He was worried about his friend, yes he wanted the sword, but his friend was priceless. I'd fly to China if it would help Yuan, he resolutely said under his breath.

"I'm fine. Gabriel, really." Yuan's voice was calm. After he had reached the safety of his home, he'd called his favorite aunt. She was the secretary to one of the high-ranking officials and she'd spoken on behalf of her nephew. The powerful Authority was intrigued with her nephew's predicament and spoke to him directly.

"I have a meeting with a prominent Government attaché and he has given me his word that he knows someone very," he paused searching for a word, "'special'. The General explained He and his wife would be accompanying someone most Revered to the airport." Excitement charged his voice, "And I get to meet the Revered One!"

Relief leeched all the strength from Gabe's body, forcing him to lean against the wall. His imagination had taken flight and foreseen his friend being dragged from his home, tortured and maimed.

"Wow, I am so glad you're okay, and that thing with the 'Revered One', sounds cool. Think the 'Revered One' would give you an autograph?" He added the question to get a rise out of Yuan, and it worked.

"Gabe, the Revered One is not like a rock star! You insult someone who is very important to our culture, and in this case to the world!" Yuan bristled.

"Sorry Yuan, just yanking your chain. What do you mean important to the world. I thought whatever the U.S. had, we shared and whatever China had was theirs."

Absentmindedly, Gabriel scratched his head and slid to the floor and sat cross legged. He'd learned getting into political and metaphysical belief conversations had a tendency to be long. He looked across the hallway to his kitchen, and made a note to self to replace this telephone with a mobile extension.

"That is usually the case, but this person, unlike the Dali Lama, has the approval of the Chinese government, and a few other governments that won't be named." Yuan was nodding. He recognized the fact his phone was bugged, but he didn't expect to live forever. "I'm not exactly sure when the meeting will be. The Holy One will be delivered by a monastery, from what I understand the 'Venerate Dignitary' breeches all usual, consider normal, venues of protocol. My aunt told me the wife of attaché is hoping to be blessed, so she might bear a child. They've tried many years."

"So this person works miracles, too?" Then he might be able to get the sword to the states. Where should I send my donation?" His tone started out light-hearted, but he was serious about the donation. Just saving his buddy's neck would be great; the sword would be the icing.

"I don't know. But I expect it will be the Revered One who will deliver the sword." Yuan paused. "It is time for me to go. I will try and call you when the Revered One has the sword. Good Night Gabe."

There was a click before Gabe could verify that Yuan had said the 'Revered One will deliver the sword'; or for him to say good night. He gazed over the untidy heaps of papers and stacked boxes knowing everything was meticulously categorized on his computer. Some of the more exotic and fragile items he had in display cases. His warehouse was his store room. He knew where every Austrian Crystal amulet to Zulu spear was boxed.

Mystic paraphernalia was carefully stored to avoid any and hopefully all possible interactions that would act as a catalyst or disturb the fabrics of any realms. He knew a number of people who had "gifts"; some were witches, practicing Wiccans and some who had been drawn to his place because something was "wrong". He'd always been a good judge of people and he saw relief in their eyes when he was willing to rearrange to avoid disaster. In time, he had acquired customers. More importantly, he had made friends.

As he looked over his shop, he knew there was no way for him to have it spotless before Yuan's Revered person arrived. A plan formed in his head. He grabbed his keys and headed out to pick up a few things. At first, he though scrubbing bubbles was the third best invention after pizza and the laptop, but now it had a competitor. Pledge, Windex Wipes along with the Wipe the Floor and Toss were squeezing the bubbles out of their special nitch. Hopefully, by the time the Yoda-person arrived, most of the shop would smell clean and sparkle. The floor would actually look clean. Humming, he closed the door behind him and made sure it was locked before heading to the store.

*********

Sara's day at work had been a blur. They'd been called to a homicide, but by thetime Vickie got done with the preliminary, it was a solid suicide. Sara had called it at the scene, but no one seemed to listen. She felt like shaking someone, especially Jake. There was NO weapon, No motive and No opportunity for any of the possible suspects, she coldly stated to the blond rookie. She'd noticed the glances between Danny and Jake, wondering if she was PMSing. She wanted to shout at the two of them, but it would have just dug her hole deeper.

A certified letter arrived for her, at the precinct, which she signed in front of an impromptu audience.

"Everyone has to know everybody's business," Danny reminded her, "it's carved in stone somewhere." There was a smile on his face as he tried to hide behind his cup of coffee.

"Well, what's it about?" piped Jake.

Sara rolled her eyes at him as she opened the parchment thin paper and read it slowly, disbelief creeping over her features.

"Jeez, Pez what's wrong?" Danny's joking tone had vanished and his posture had changed. If something was messing with his partner, they didn't know what they were in for, he thought.

It took a couple of minutes, as Sara reread the notice a couple of times, the she passed it to Danny. "Someone bought my building and will be doing renovations." Disbelief was written over her face, with a tinge of sadness.

"It say's here that they will be starting renovating the loft next to yours tomorrow, as well as the warehouse underneath your loft." Danny read. He looked up, "if it gets too loud, Castle Woo has a comfortable couch and a built in alarm clock called Una. You're welcome to crash there until the barbarians have finished plundering your home."

Sara gave him a wan smile, "I won't leave without a fight." Sighing heavily, "I wonder what the rent hike is going to be."

Both Danny and Jake grimaced. They knew the real estate market in New York and did not envy Sara's predicament.

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it," remarked Danny.

Sara looked at him, "What's that, famous Woo Wisdom?"

"No, Woo Wisdom says, for problems see Haagen Daz. Little problem, use a pint, big problem, make gallon of many flavors use chocolate syrup, whipped cream, chopped nuts and cherries."

Sara laughed, "And this helps the problems?"

Danny smiled, "It makes you do that," as he pointed to her smile, "which helps make the predicament a little easier to handle." He shrugged his shoulders and grinned at her.

She nodded, "Point taken, I might show up on your door step tomorrow night with some Haagen Daz."

"Works for me. Hey, I have to go pick up Una from ballet." As he stood and grabbed his coat, "See you tomorrow. Have a good night."

"G'nite," Sara said to Danny's retreating back.

As soon as the shift was over, she headed home. She'd kept an eye out for Nottingham and hadn't even felt him around. Yesterday, well, she could blow him off about not rubbing her nose in the fact she almost saw Una get killed. But today, not even a shadow. She hated to admit it to herself but she was getting a little worried about him. She considered going out to the mansion, and then decided she wasn't that worried.

She parked and locked up her Buell and headed up the steps, keys ready. Opening her door had become a fluid movement, key in, turn, turn handle and push and she was inside. Stashing her helmet on the rack where she hung her jacket, bolted her door, she started to walk into her kitchen area that opened into the entire apartment when she saw a shadowy figure apparently pursuing her books. Stealthily she pulled her gun and aimed it at the cloaked figure.

As she moved closer she heard him humming and sometimes singing the lyrics of Randy Newman's "Short People" song. "Short people got nobody; short people got nobody to. They got little baby legs And they stand so low You got to pick 'em up just to say hello they got little cars, That go beep, beep, beep, they got little voices that go peep, peep, peep," hummam, huma, hum, hum. He flicked through pages of various books, many she had from her father.

She was stunned to see such a large hooded figure, singing a silly song going through her books. It was too much.

"If you want a book, go to the library." She nodded at the door. He started. "NYPD, I have a gun so don't try anything." Something about him was different, she knew the Witchblade should be giving her information but it lay dormant on her arm.

He turned slowly, it was then she noticed the scythe in his left hand and that his hands were only bones. Sara began to believe she left her stomach downstairs as the hairs rose up the back of her neck, but not her bravado.

Instead she watched the black robed individual pick up a book her father had read to her many times and as part of their night time routine they would each recite a line of one of Sara's favorite saying's from the book before going to bed.

The dark clothed person with a deep raspy voice flipped to a worn section and started what for others would be an unconventional beginning.

"Two things cannot be put in one place. 'Where you tend a rose my lad'…"

Sara's eyes filled with tears, gun forgotten, as she recited the second line with the man in black,

"'A thistle cannot grow.'"

Sara looked uncertain as she rubbed the Witchblade, "Who are you, and what the Hell do you want with me?" The challenge in her voice had disappeared. Her eyes scrutinized the black hooded and cloaked individual, noting he was easily over 7 feet tall.

The man in black glanced at the Witchblade and then at Sara. "The Witchblade is primarily for battle. Not concerned with matters of the heart or things similar that has passed. For instance, your father's life force was too rich to languish and has been reborn. His soul only had the sin of pride, not for himself, but of you. He was very proud of you. That sin was easily cleansed and his path is clear and promising.

"As for Hell, Evil, capital E Incarnate, resides in Hell, that's of whom you should be wary. Evil Incarnate is smooth, polished, very refined and slippery as an eel."

"I am Death Incarnate, I am here to observe. I have met another mortal female who has piqued my interest of things living. To try and see things from a different perspective and experience," he looked down, "what living people do. She has treated me more than just an Incarnate."

Sara noticed his voice took on amused and lighthearted quality when he spoke about the human woman.

"In fact you weren't supposed to notice me, but I guess the Witchblade decided you should. You will be seeing other odd Individuals, they will be Incarnations." He peered down at her, out of his hood. "You seem to be off balance. Denying the fact that you are concerned for someone's welfare, perhaps I can help."

Sara wanted to say no but she knew lying wasn't an option, so she decided to just "run with it".

"I usually have this guy shadowing me." She ran her hand over the Witchblade and holstered her gun. "He thinks he's the Witchblade guardian and follows me everywhere, but he hasn't been around all day today and most of the day yesterday."

"Is his name Nottingham?" Death's voice was so soft she barely heard it.

"Yes, oh my god is he?" She raised her hand to her cheek; he seemed like someone who always seemed invincible.

"Dead? No. Lost, yes! He and the Divine One got trapped in a time flux and are no longer in this time frame."

"Divine One?" Sara's curiosity was in gear now.

"Yes, Nottingham has been a prisoner since childhood. I stood by his bed many times after the bloody whippings Irons inflicted on him as a child and as a man. Nottingham has a strong will to live. This trip, however, may kill him."

"If it could kill him, why did he go?" Sara was sickened by what Irons had done to Nottingham, no wonder he had such a servitude manner.

"For Ian to be free of Irons, he has to know he had a life before Irons. He had a mother who loved him. Once Irons married her and was certain he had both under control, he had Ian's mother killed and kept Nottingham for himself. Weren't you ever curious why Ian would refer to Irons as father but not have the Irons name?"

Sara's sharp intake of breath answered his question. He straightened his robes, "I must go, I just got word they have been located, in one piece and alive. Good Night, Sara, may your dreams be as magical as the garden." There wasn't a sound or a disturbance when he disappeared.

Sara's eye's filled with tears, "Thank you, hey next time knock?" Yelling at the point where he'd been standing. Still trying to grasp , explain what had just occurred. She'd mashed a smile on her features, remembering how her dad tucked her in and somehow knowing his life-force was back in the world made her heart feel a little lighter. She went over to the table where Death had left The Secret Garden. She picked it up and set on the kitchen table.

Brewing a large cup of tea gave her time to make some cheese and crackers with sliced apples on the side, and then set up her sofa with a lamp, pillow, and blanket. She crawled into her sweats before the tea was done. Snagging the book, she made her way to her cozy nest. After finishing her light dinner and a few chapters, she pulled the blanket tight flicked off the lamp and slept.