SAVE THE LAST DANCE

Chapter 3

***EIGHT YEARS LATER***

Sara grabbed her wallet, keys, and black leather jacket and called for her daughter.

"Michelle, hurry! Your bus is gonna be here in less than ten minutes!"

"Coming!" The eleven-year-old's feet slid across the hardwood floor as she struggled to put on her shoes while running. She slipped out the door, Sara close on her tail. Sighing, Sara opened the door again and grabbed both of their helmets. She drove Michelle down to the corner, dropped her off, and sped towards the 11th Precinct. Today was not the day to be late.

Today, she would confront the killer of her childhood friend, Maria Buzanis. Tommy Gallo was a dead man. The tires of her Buell squealed as she took a corner too fast, and she righted herself just in time to take another corner just as sharp. She screeched to a timely halt in the Precinct parking lot, killed the engine, and jogged inside. Danny was already in his seat in their office by the time she arrived, and their new rookie, Jake McCartey, was leaning against the far wall.

"Hey, Pez."

"Hey."

"Such a conversationalist—"

"Shut it, Rookie."

"Sorry."

********

They sat in their parked car, waiting for Gallo to show. Finally, he and one of his associates came out of the building across the street, conversing quietly.

Sara burst from the car, followed closely by Danny, as she moved to confront Gallo.

A short, meaningless conversation ensued, and then Danny and the other man got into a struggle. Danny was knocked to the ground and the man ran, but Sara was close on his heels. She followed him into the Midtown Museum, lost track of him, and was drawn to a case in one of the vast rooms. It contained a gauntlet of some sort, one that had supposedly belonged to Joan of Arc. On what could have been the wrist segment of the lower-arm-shaped piece of armor, a bulbous protrusion opened, revealing a blood-red stone that seemed to glow from deep within. The glow faded and it closed tightly. As Sara moved to stand, she caught sight of a shadowy reflection in the clear glass of the display case. She whirled around, gun out, and found herself staring into a very familiar face.

"Magnificent, isn't it?"

"You!"

It was Ian Nottingham.

He disappeared before she could say more, revealing behind him the man she'd been chasing before. She ran after him, and a gunfight quickly ensued. Her gun was shot out of her hand, and she reached for her back-up piece in her ankle holster, spraying a few shots in his direction. It was no use, however, as he cornered her just moments later. One of his wild shots hit the Joan of Arc display case, sending the gauntlet within flying in Sara's direction. She leapt to avoid his next shots, and the gauntlet moved out ahead of her, slipping onto her forearm. She landed and fell into a crouching position as he bore down on her, gun blazing. A bullet came straight for her, and she instinctively ducked her head, hiding it behind the strange metal armor she suddenly found her arm encased in. The bullet bounced off harmlessly, and another came her way. This one, too, rebounded, and headed straight for an old pipe in the corner.

The musuem exploded.

********

Sara looked down at the bracelet in her hand, wondering how in the hell it had gotten there. She turned it over and over, examining it, searching for clues that didn't exist. The only things she could remember were the chase, the gunfight…and Ian Nottingham.

After all these years, now he came back?

She absently slipped the bracelet on.

She'd deal with it later.

********

"Mama, what is that?" Michelle asked curiously, fingering the bracelet on her mother's wrist later that evening.

"It's a bracelet I found earlier today, baby."

"Where'd you find it?"

"I don't really know."

"Oh. Mama?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's my daddy?"

Sara inhaled sharply. "Why do you ask?"

"'Cause some of the other kids at school were talking about what their daddies did for work, and I don't have a daddy, so I couldn't say anything."

Taking a deep breath, Sara said truthfully, "I don't exactly know, baby."

"But I do have one?" the young girl asked hopefully, her eyes brightening a little.

"Yes, you do."

"Okay."

With that said, the girl curled up on her mother's lap. Sara breathed a sigh of relief, stroking her daughter's hair gently.

********

Ian Nottingham crouched on the fire escape, peering into the window of Sara Pezzini's apartment. He watched as Sara carried a sleeping child into the bedroom, laid her on one side of the bed, changed into a tank top and shorts, and crawled in beside her. Over the past month, he had observed her, and had come to the conclusion that this must be her daughter. The child seemed familiar, somehow. It hurt him to be away from his beloved Sara. For nearly twelve years, he hadn't been able to contact her to tell her the truth of his abandonment of her—Irons had found out about their tryst, and had been infuriated, for some reason. Ian knew why now, but he had been horrified to discover that he would never be able to return to her. Their one glorious night together had been his only light in the darkness of his past years. It kept him sane; it kept him from giving up. The bracelet on his beloved's right wrist glowed faintly, and he knew the Witchblade sensed his presence. His eyes turned involuntarily to the young child curled in her arms. She had her mother's silky chestnut locks and mischievous green eyes. He hoped she hadn't inherited all of her mother's "attributes," however. Sara could be a little…aggressive, as he had seen watching her take down criminals. He also hoped that her beauty, intelligence, wit, grace, talent, and strength—both of character and of body—were passed down to her offspring. He twitched. The child was unnervingly familiar. He shifted his weight and tried to avert his gaze, but he found he could not. The child's eyes suddenly opened, focusing instantly on him. He jumped back, out of sight, but it was too late. She had seen him. He waited several moments, then carefully moved back to his previous position, relieved to see that the child was sleeping once more. She was perceptive, that was for sure. Too perceptive. He couldn't shake this feeling about her…she was so frustratingly familiar.

********

The next morning, as Sara rolled out of bed, she noticed the Witchblade was glowing softly, light swirling round and round within the stone. She stared at it for a moment before dressing and moving into the kitchen. As she scrambled some eggs for breakfast, she felt a pair of small arms go round her slim waist.

"Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Is breakfast ready yet?"

"Almost."

"Okay. And Mama?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Who was that man outside the window last night?"

Sara turned abruptly. "What?"

"The man—he was dressed all in black, and when I saw him, he disappeared, but then he came back. He was on the fire escape."

Ian. Ian Nottingham.

Gathering her daughter into a quick embrace, Sara said, "I don't know who he was, but I'll find out and take care of it, okay?"

"Okay."

********

"Danny, I need you to get me all the information you can on a guy named Ian Nottingham. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah, sure. Why?"

"Just get it as soon as possible."

"Yes, ma'am."

********

PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!

NEXT CHAPTER TO FOLLOW SOON IF MY MUSE RECIEVES ENOUGH FEEDBACK (and Mountain Dew)! Thanks!