Sara slept deeply, but her dreams made her restless. As she tossed in her
sleep, she disturbed Ian from his thoughts. He watched, as she seemed to
fight out her demons in her dreams. He did not know what to do, what he
should do. Finally, moving very slowly, he slid beneath the bedcovers and
carefully slipped his arms around her, trying very hard not to think about
how it felt. She settled down almost immediately, so deep in sleep she
didn't even notice, but he didn't release her. He told himself that he was
afraid that her dreams would return, although he knew that that was only
part of it. He held her quietly, listening to her breathe. Slowly, without
awareness, he slipped into a dreamless sleep, warmed and comforted by her.
Sara woke slowly, feeling warm and safe. Comfortable arms held her tightly, and she leaned back, drowsy. Suddenly, her eyes opened and she gazed down at the hands crossed over her. They were pale, sensitive hands that had not seen the light of day for many years. Here first reaction was to push away, to yell at him for invading her space even more than she had let him. Before that thought was even finished, another, how would he react. Anyway, she was too tired and it was too early for her to start a fight with him. It's not like she really minded, when she thought about it, she was just surprised. It was probably just some weird protective instinct, but after last nights little roller coaster ride it just seemed like they could probably both use the comfort. Interesting that even in sleep, his arms crossed over her, his bare hands were not even touching her. Strange though, when she fell asleep, he had been hugging the other side of the bed like a drowning man, not even willing to get under the covers.
She thought about getting free, but was not sure about the safety in waking him suddenly. She was sure that he wouldn't hurt her, not consciously, but trained as he was. She studied his hands, seeing the tan line that marked where his gloves usually fell, the edge of a tattoo showing above his sweater cuff. Somehow, it seemed so unlike him, a tattoo. Maybe it was teenage rebellion? She leaned back against him, enjoying his warmth and the comfortable feeling. He confused her. She knew there was a lot more to him than what she saw, what she knew. The thoughts were making her restless.. This was all too much to think about before coffee. She wondered how much longer he would sleep. If this was another sixteen hour one, she was in trouble. She shifted carefully in his arms, so she could look at him. His body was completely still in sleep, as though making up for his restlessness awake. Only his face was relaxed, dark eyes closed, lips slightly parted. He is something else she thought. I just wish I knew what. He stirred restlessly in his sleep, pulling her closer. She let him, figuring this was the first sign of returning consciousness.
Ian came to suddenly, opening his eyes for the second time to find Sara watching him. But this time, he felt his own arms around her, her resting against his chest.
"Morning," she said softly. He wanted to release her, to bolt in sheer embarrassment. How could he possibly have let her catch him like this? But she seemed calm, and he didn't really want to let her go. "I didn't want to wake you. I wasn't sure how you would react."
"Probably best. While I can feel your presence, reflex actions are hard to break out of." He realized how tightly he was holding her and loosened his grip a little, giving her the chance to break free if she wanted to, expecting her to pull back immediately. Instead she lay there, studying his face for a moment. He kept his breathing rigidly controlled, not wanting her to see how her closeness disturbed him.
"Last night when I fell asleep, you were on the other side of the bed. I was a little surprised to wake up so close to you." Ian looked embarrassed and started to move away from her.
"You were having a bad dream. I just wanted to help you," he said quietly. "I'm sorry if I did something wrong, something to break your trust."
"You didn't. I was just surprised to wake up and not find you on the floor." She said, lightly, teasing him a little, trying to get him to relax a little. He seemed more than a little uncomfortable and she resisted the temptation to tease him further.
"I thought about it," he admitted. "But I decided I did not want to risk your anger when you tripped over me," he said with one of those lightening flashes of humor. "Besides, I didn't want my movement to wake you up." And I could not resist being so close to you, no matter how painful, he added silently to himself.
"Well, right now I need some breakfast. How about you?" she said, turning the subject as she got up. He drew back from her and sat up as well.
"Yes, please. Can I help?" he asked as she stretched a little.
"Can you cook?" she asked incredulously.
"No, but I'm sure that there is something I can do," he said as he rose, cat-like, from the bed.
Sara yawned and ran her fingers through her hair. "All right, just give me a minute." She walked into the bathroom. Ian took a few deep breaths and began to stretch a little. Two days of relative inactivity were making his muscles knot. He slid smoothly into a kata he used to wake up. Focusing completely on what he was doing, trying to calm his racing mind, he failed to hear Sara emerge. She stood in the doorway, fascinated, not wanting to disturb him. His motions were smooth, fluid, like ink on water. God, he's beautiful. He came to the end and stopped. "That was incredible," she said from behind him. He turned and looked at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to disturb you."
"I'm afraid I needed to stretch. I've been a bit too inactive the last couple of days," he said apologetically.
"No, believe me, I understand. I haven't gotten out, myself."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Some things are a little more important." A thought struck her. "After breakfast, I have to go out. Would you like to come with me?" she asked as she crossed the room, heading for the kitchen.
Ian followed her. "Certainly. Where are we going?"
"After breakfast," she said. "And after coffee."
Sitting at the table sometime later, empty breakfast dishes spread out over the surface, they shared a companionable silence, finishing their drinks. After all that had happened in the last couple of days, it still hit her hard to see her tall, dark, and deadly stalker sitting calmly eating scrambled eggs and toast at her table, and after spending the night in his arms. She still couldn't believe that he had done that, or how good it had felt to be close to him. Watching him stretch had raised her pulse more than she cared to think about. She contemplated her surprise, sure that he would be happy to be doing something again. She wondered how many pleasant surprises he had ever gotten. It was strange but considering what she now knew about him, she was really anxious to find out more. "You finished, Nottingham?" she asked, rising to clear the table.
"Yes, Sara. And curious about where we are going."
"Dishes first, surprise afterwards. Now, hand me those plates." Ian handed her the rest of the dishes and watched as she set the kitchen in order. It was nice to sit here and watch her, without having to be out in the weather. It was even better to be here because she wanted him to be. It made his heart lurch every time he thought about it, her letting him into her life, even a little bit. And then last night. he pushed those thoughts away again, although the effort was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. He took a moment to pull himself together as Sara finally finished her tasks. "Now, Ian, get yourself something you can move in."
"Where are we going?"
"To fix both of our laziness problems," she said simply, and went behind the screen to get some clothes. Ian, intrigued, grabbed a few things from his bag and headed off into the bathroom. When he returned, he had changed and pinned his hair into a tight bun at the back of his head. He walked into the living area and pulled his gloves on. He thought for a moment, then added the wraps from his bag, pretty sure what she had in mind, in general if not specific. Sara came out in sweatpants and an NYPD sweat jacket, carrying a small bag. "Ready?" she asked him, as she grabbed the Witchblade off the table and slid it onto her wrist. Noticing that the gloves were missing, she glanced down at his hands but said nothing. After all, it was cold outside, and besides, he needed time. He was right, she was pushing, but it offended her so deeply to see him isolated by his father, even after the man was dead. On the other hand, it was probably best if he took his time. She grabbed her jacket and he grabbed his topcoat as they left the apartment.
Down on the street, Ian tried to guess where they were going. He gave up and simply followed her, taking time to enjoy walking with her in the wintry chill. Sunday is a quiet day on the streets of New York and they made good time. Ian recognized the route. They turned and entered the basement gym where Sara worked out. Nothing fancy for her, just a gritty, gray space with a ring, mats and some equipment, Spartan and practical. He had been there a couple of times, following her, watching her.
"Surprise." She said. "We could both use the exercise." Ian noticed they were alone except for the janitor in the corner, an older man with long reddish blonde hair. He thought that he had seen him before somewhere, but immediately dismissed the thought. Must have been here the last time he followed Sara. The janitor nodded politely at them and disappeared into the back of the building.
Ian shrugged off his topcoat pulled off his sweater, and replaced the gloves with wraps from his pockets. He had a black tee shirt on with no sleeves. Sara shook her head and almost thought about asking if he owned anything that wasn't black, but decided against it. "I'll take those." She grabbed his things and headed off in another direction. "Have fun," she called back over her shoulder.
When Ian finally emerged from his workout, he noticed Sara padded up, taking her time on the heavy bag. He walked over to watch her, enjoying her in motion. "Feeling better, Nottingham?" she said breathlessly, as she gave the bag a final punch. Ian picked up some pads and moved to stand near her. "Yes, I am." He held up the pads, and she took a few practice swings at them. "Not bad, Sara, but you need to hit a little harder," he said with a smile. Sara threw another couple of combinations at him, increasing force and speed. Ian shrugged. She backed off and came at him again, giving him all she could, the last one rocking him back just a little. "Better," he said. She rolled her eyes at him. "Sara, you will frequently be fighting opponents who are bigger and stronger. You need to push harder."
"Been doing all right on my own so far. I was trying to go easy on you, Nottingham. You want to put those down and go a few falls?"
"I don't particularly box, Sara," he told her.
"No holds barred, any style," she challenged him.
"I don't want to hurt you," he said, intrigued by the idea.
"Worry about yourself." She took a last focused punch at him, rocking him back again.
He sighed a little, realizing he wasn't going to change her mind. Besides, it could be educational for both of them. "All right, Sara, I'm sure it will be interesting."
"You're on, Nottingham." She took off her gloves and put them down, as Nottingham dropped the pads on the table. As they settled into a corner of the mat, Sara waited for him to come at her, but he merely stood there. "Well, I'm waiting."
"Patience, Sara." He began circling her, slowly. Ian feinted right, and Sara moved to block, as he backed away. He tried again, moving to her left, then changing directions at the last moment. Sara shifted, narrowly blocking the blow. He retreated again, and she followed. He took a swing which she ducked easily, coming in for a jab at his ribs. As his knee came up to block, she grabbed him under his leg and threw him to the mat. She dropped quickly to her knees, to try to keep him down, but lightening-fast, his leg came up and hooked her behind the neck. As he pulled, she rolled with it, landing on her back, with her neck under his knee and her feet facing his head. She spun quickly, slipping her head free. As she regained her feet, he was once again up, backing away from her. "That was good, Sara, but you need to be faster. If this were real, I would have snapped your neck."
"Yeah, I got that. Let's go again," she said, shaking it off. They went a few more passes, while Sara tried to determine his style, figure out where he was coming from. He made another pass. This time she feinted and let him go around her. She turned quickly, aiming a kick at the back of his knees as he went past. Ian went down, grabbing her ankle and pulling her with him. She landed on the back of his legs as he rolled. Pushing past her, he rolled over onto the mat. She came at him this time. Ducking his arm, she came inside his guard, pushing him from the shoulder. He spun around and caught her off-side, taking her to the ground beneath him. She hit the mat with a sharp exhale, sweating hard.
"Are you all right?" he asked, shifting his weight onto his arms.
"Yeah, just lost my breath for a minute," she said.
"Are you sure you want to continue?"
"Yes, I do. This is fun. We should do this more often," she said from the mat underneath him.
"Sara, I'll gladly teach you all that I can, but I can't do it in one day. I've had years of training, you have to catch up in a short time."
"I'm not exactly helpless, you know," she said, a little irritated at him, not to mention her current position. "Besides, when did this turn into a training session? I thought we were here to have fun."
"We are having fun and I know you aren't, Sara. But I just couldn't stand to lose you." Impulsively, he leaned down and kissed her. Sara was stunned, both by the statement and the kiss, stunned, but pleased at the same time. It felt good and it wasn't just a side effect of the game. She began to return the kiss enthusiastically, sliding one hand up onto his shoulder. Ian was shocked, by his own boldness, by the kiss, which she seemed to be returning, and the feeling was overwhelming.
Suddenly, they both heard the door bang open. Ian jumped to his feet, turning, the look on his face changing to calculation and wariness for a second before registering that there was no danger. Sara held out her hand to him to help her up. When he lifted her to her feet, his hands were shaking. She leaned close to him. "I think we should continue this at home. I'll be right back. Don't move."
Ian, too busy trying to regain his scattered wits to say anything, nodded. She went to get their things, leaving him standing bemused in the middle of the gym. He'd taken advantage of the moment and she hadn't rejected him. His world had gone from despair to hope in a matter of days, leaving him reeling in shock. But he had lost control and he didn't know where to go from here. He had a deep fear that something would happen, that he would do something wrong. Besides, after years of conditioning and control, his emotions were breaking free with more force than he really knew how to handle. What if he hurt her? What if she simply wanted to let him down easily? What if she didn't and then he had to take the next step? What if there were something buried in his programming that he didn't know about? And how could he explain it to her without her thinking him some kind of freak? He didn't think he could stand to have her look at him like that again. The questions were chasing themselves around in his head, but one thing he knew, at least she still wanted him to come with her, for now.
Sara went into the back to the lockers and grabbed a towel out of her bag. Damn, of all the things she was thinking about this morning, ending up pinned to the mat, locked in a very intense kiss with Ian Nottingham was not any of them. She put her sweat jacket on and tried to iron this out, afraid to leave him alone too long. The red rose he gave her the other night made a whole lot of sense, now. But what was she supposed to do with him? Every time he made a small move forward he almost immediately backed off. One thing was certain, they were both attracted to each other, and pretty intensely at that, if she was any judge. The Witchblade had warmed on her wrist while they were fighting and even more so while they were kissing. It didn't make a lot of sense, but somehow kissing him felt good, it felt right and that troubled her a little too. This was Nottingham, he was supposed to make cryptic comments, threaten her, not come into her life, her home and stir up her feeling like this. The look in his eyes, though, when he kissed her made her heart race more than anyone ever had. The thoughts were spinning in her head almost to the point of making her physically dizzy. He was obviously confused and Sara figured that she better have a plan, even if she was just as confused. How to fit this together.
Sara emerged with their things, handing him his coat and sweater. He was standing there looking guarded and uncertain. She smiled reassuringly at him, as he pulled the sweater on over his tee shirt and exchanged his wraps for gloves. "Ian, it's o.k. Really. We'll talk when we get home." It must have been what he wanted to hear. He looked at her cautiously, as if he didn't dare to believe her. "Really, come on, let's go." He grabbed his coat and walked with Sara out into the gray winter sunshine.
As they hit the street Sara reached for his arm, placing her hand on it very gently, just enough to let him know she was beside him. As they walked in silence, Sara wondered what had changed her feelings towards him. What had taken him from potentially dangerous enemy to ally, friend, and maybe something more. Not that she really understood her feelings for him. He was many things; dangerous, mysterious, cryptic, kind, uncertain, and strangely gentle. The attraction between them was a surprise but then why should it be? She should have seen it before now. he had a lot of information, but it was something more than just hormones and data that was happening. She wasn't sure she was ready to name it to herself, much less him. He was obviously having trouble with things as it was, this was going to take one hell of a balancing act. She pushed it all away and just enjoyed the walk. She was halfway home before she remembered the groceries.
"We need to stop. Need groceries." She told him breaking the silence between them reluctantly.
"Now?" he said, startled.
"Yes, now, otherwise I have no groceries and you have no dinner."
"Pizza? You could let me buy dinner," he said, torn but anxious to be home with her. It was strange that while the thought of the conversation frightened him more than he could possibly imagine, the fact that she was willing was thrilling, freeing in a way. He did not know what would come of it, but in spite of his mistake, she had not pushed him away.
"I still need to get food. It's easier if I don't have to do it while I'm working."
"Very well, I just thought that you wanted to talk." He felt a little thrill, home, she called it, as if he had the right to claim a small part of it. He was nervous, confused, but at the same time he wanted to know what was happening.
"And we will, after the store," she said. She continued playfully, "this is new, so far I have had to drag things out of you. Especially the personal stuff."
"Maybe now I have something that is worth talking about? I have never been required to talk about myself often. It is a new experience for me." He smiled at her. It was getting easier.
"That may be but we still have to eat." The sudden change in him was a little disconcerting but it beat him disappearing suddenly, which had been her initial fear. "Now, what do you like?"
"Whatever you want." Sara gazed up at the heavens, asking for strength. They went into the grocery store.
When they came out, Sara had enough food to feed an army, or at least one hungry man. Not sure how long he was staying, she had figured on stocking up a little, the budget not being conducive to take out. Ian had insisting on paying for them, since she had fed him and she had no good reason to object. They carried the bags back to her apartment and Sara set to putting up the groceries while Ian watched her, anxiously. He wanted to talk but he was nervous at the same time. He did not know what to say or how to say it. How much he could really tell her, in spite of what she already knew, it was still hard to admit to things. He knew how he felt, that was all, but did not know if that was enough, or even if he could or should tell her. It would be so much easier to let it slip by.
Sara finished putting away the groceries reluctantly. They needed to talk about this but now that they were here alone, it was hard to know where to start. She turned to find Ian watching her, standing by the counter as if he did not know what to do with himself. That makes two of us. She grabbed a couple of bottles of water and threw one to him. "Ian, why don't you take a seat." She took off her sweat jacket and threw it over the chair. She thought longingly of a shower, but was not sure about putting this off longer. Give the man an out, she thought, although in all fairness she had to add, Or me either.
Ian sat down on the couch, putting a little space between them. How did he discuss feelings that were so new to him? He thought about Sara, so different from anyone else, the only one to reach out for him. He was confused by her. What was it that made it so much easier to get close to her when they were in conflict or when she was unconscious? Rejection? But she hadn't yet. He understood physical attraction in theory, although his father had always put it in context of control. Using it as a tool to control others, protecting yourself from control. But Irons had always been the ultimate control, and now he was gone.
Always remember, the less emotional attachments you have, the less vulnerable you'll be. Isolation is safety, virginity is invulnerability.his fathers' voice echoed harsh in his ears. He was wrong. If anything his connection, his love for Sara made him stronger, more sure of himself. It gave him a cause again. That was something Kenneth Irons had never wanted him to understand. The difference, he realized, was in himself. His father had in many ways wanted him to remain a child, a servant, always dependent on him for his only emotional contact. He offered his chains to Sara and she simply ignored them, refused to admit they even existed. She treated him as an equal, a man. She was the first person in a long time that had actually asked about him as if he had the right to have a life outside his role as Kenneth Irons' shadow. How to start, to explain so that she would understand what he barely understood himself?
Sara watched Ian lost to his thoughts and decided she could sneak a quick shower. Let him get his head together and give her time to figure out what to say, what to do. Yes, they were attracted to each other, but was that a complication that either of them needed, especially at this point? And could they really do anything about it? She walked into the bathroom and closed the door. There was a lot more there, but at a certain level they needed each other, and this could make things difficult at best. And what did he want anyway? "Ok," she said to herself, lets think about this rationally. "He is a nice enough guy, intelligent, charming, and god those eyes. Whoa, hang on, this is Nottingham, he is dangerous, he has more emotional issues than anyone else on the planet." Except you, the voice in the back of her head reminded her. And he is strong enough, good enough to protect himself. He won't die on you. He is the one person who can understand. This is completely new for him, but he is willing to risk everything for you. He needs you. Do you have the courage to try, to face someone who is strong enough to be your equal, to help him? She pushed her thoughts away as she grabbed her shower and threw on some clean clothes. Returning, she found Ian still gazing into space. She smiled, he had not even noticed she had gone, so lost was he in his own mind. "Ian, where are you?" Her voice cut into his thoughts. He noticed she had showered and changed while he sat there alone in his own inner conflict.
"In a reverie?" he said, unsure how to explain. "Waiting for you."
"You looked like you could use a few moments, I know I did," she told him as she sat down on the other end of the couch. This was becoming familiar; they had established a pattern, her on one end, him on the other. It would have been comfortable except for the conversation that hung over them. So easy to push it away, not deal with it now. But they both knew it would not go away.
"Sara," Ian began slowly, "I had no intention of burdening you with my feelings. It is inappropriate and I should never have been so discourteous." His formality had returned and that saddened her a bit.
"Stop it," she said impatiently, a little annoyed that he was trying to push it off. "Ian, it happened. All you did was kiss me, and while I'm sure it would be easier to put it down to the heat of the moment, I think we both know better. Are you saying you are sorry? That you didn't mean it?"
"No, I would never do that. I'm not. I just did not want to push myself on you. I don't want to ruin everything we have worked for. You know I would never do anything."
"I know this is difficult, I'm not the best at this emotional stuff myself. It is obvious that there is something between us and in case you hadn't noticed, I wasn't exactly objecting."
"How could you, I did not give you the chance. Instead I just blundered in. I love you, Sara, and I can't seem to do anything about it." He told her "And I don't think I really want to, but I don't want to risk what I already have." His outburst startled him. His brown eyes were dark with pain, and confusion. Sara wanted to do something, to reach out, but she knew at this exact moment it would be a bad idea, he needed to say what was on his mind and he was holding it together by a real thin thread. One more push and he would probably be out the window and out of her life, and the one thing she was sure of was that was not what she wanted. "I know I should go, but I am afraid, to go.to stay.to face you..." he paused, looking at her intensely. "I can't remember ever really fearing anything before."
"Don't go," she said quietly. He looked away and then back, his eyes had a trapped look and as much as she wanted to help him, she knew that she was part of that trap. "That would accomplish exactly nothing. Listen, I know that this is not anything you were prepared for, Irons saw to that. I wasn't either. In the last few days I have learned more about you than I ever thought I would. I know that I am starting to feel something for you, I enjoy your company and you are a really attractive guy, but there is something more going on. I am just not really ready to put a name to it. I wish I could give you what you want, but I can't. This is new to me too. I have never had anything like this to happen, and certainly not this fast." His heart fell into his shoes and he looked down, not sure he wanted to hear the rest, wishing he had never started this. She reached out and touched his face, turned him to look at her. "I'm not sure, not yet. I want us to be friends, allies and well, I don't know what else." His eyes met hers, hope returning a little light to them. "Not yet, not until I'm sure myself. Anything else would be unfair to you. But I won't say no. We just have to take things as they come." She leaned forward and kissed him gently, much different from the kiss he gave her earlier. Ian was stunned, her kiss sending his mind soaring. He pulled back suddenly, afraid of where this could lead, what could happen. It would be so easy to make a mistake and have her angry at him once again. His eyes were dark, intense and filled with emotion.
"That's the first time I have ever gotten that reaction," she said lightly, trying once again to figure out what was going on in his head, to resist being embarrassed or angry. She was not exactly sure herself what made her do it, except that she was running on instinct, and it had seemed right. He told her he loved her, and then when she kissed him, he backed off again. Stood to reason, she supposed, isolation making contact hard to take especially under these circumstances.
"I." he started, trying to put his thoughts back in order. Not wanting her to get the wrong idea, he took a deep breath and reached out a slightly shaking hand to touch her face. She flinched away when leather touched skin. In an instant he realized his error and pulled off his ring and gloves angrily, and threw them in the direction of the table. Sara recovered quickly, embarrassed by her reaction, knowing what it had cost him to reach out. She took his bare hand in hers and lifted it. His fingers accidentally strayed over the Witchblade.
The vision hit her hard, causing them both to react; she fell back against the arm of the couch, as Ian grabbed her to keep her from falling.
Images flashed through her mind: Ian in armor being torn from her arms as they dragged her away. The two of them embracing passionately in a strange room before a fire, dressed in strange clothes. Ian fighting at her back in a pitched battle, rallying forces around a banner she tried to keep upright. Taking a sword stroke meant for her, while guarding her back. Sacrificing his life for her in a modern warehouse while she watched, unable to do anything.
Sara came back to herself on the couch, Ian kneeling beside her on the floor. She looked into his eyes, seeing his concern. "You knew, didn't you?" she asked hoarsely. Ian handed her the water from the table. She took it and drank. He did not answer, nor meet her eyes. "Didn't you?" she asked more strongly.
"I had dreams." he said simply.
"But you knew we were even more connected than you said. And you didn't tell me," she said, hurt in her voice.
"I wanted you to come to me for myself, not for what we had been to each other in the past. I thought you might feel.obligated. I didn't want that. Besides there was no good way to explain it, not and have you believe me." Reassured that he was sincere, she reached out to touch his face.
"I guess the Witchblade insisted. It wants us to be together."
"Yes, but what do you want?" he asked, looking up at her, hope and fear mixing in his face. Everything was out in the open and all he could think of was what he would do if she turned away from him. Sara was not comfortable with mystical connections, with anything that she did not understand, now he hung on her every word, afraid to hope that she would see him for what he wanted to be.
"To get to know you better, to see where this is going. I haven't changed my mind you know. I was already very attracted to you and now that I know more, know how you feel." she said quietly.
"Sara, don't make any promises, please. Not until you know your own heart. I do not want to ruin everything for something as unimportant as this," he told her, talking to himself as much as to her, although the effort was costing him a great deal.
"Ian, your feelings are not unimportant, what kind of heartless bitch do you think I am?" Her words startled him and he looked up to see the fire in her eyes. "If you want to live a normal life, to try to sort out what you want, then you have got to stop that." She shook her head at him, stopping suddenly when the pain in her head told her that it was a bad idea.
"I want you," he said softly, almost too low for her to hear. "As much or as little as you are willing to give."
"Don't put this all off on me. I am not going to be responsible for you. It is has got to be all or nothing. What do you want?" her voice was a little loud in her own ears and it was making the pain in her head worse.
I want to be with you." There was strength in his voice this time, conviction.
"Better, I don't know what to say to that except that I think we should try." She could see his concern, like he was still working out what he had just committed to. He was becoming much easier for her to read. She wondered if it was him that was changing or if she were just becoming more aware.
"Don't worry, Nottingham," she said playfully, trying to take the pressure off him, ease the tension a little. "We have time." The promise in her words made him look up at her, see that she was smiling softly at him. He was spinning inside with pent-up emotion, but his heart wanted to explode. He felt that he had won the world, to believe that she would at least not reject him now. He was in a haze and all the time Sara lay so close he felt that he could reach out and touch her and know she would not turn away.
Sara was still trying to put her own head back together. The vision had been intense. Her feelings for Ian were clarifying, although she was still not ready to commit to anything, not yet anyway, especially till she worked out what was going on in her head. She had always been a little leery of emotional involvement, and entanglements that involved the Witchblade and past lives were a little much to take right now. And Ian.well she wasn't completely sure he knew what a normal relationship was and Irons had not necessarily set the best example. It would be so easy to hurt him, he was completely vulnerable and she didn't want that hanging over her. Ian loved her, of that she was sure, ever since he had said it she could since it, like a wall going down, connected. But was he ready for all that was involved? Hell, the first fight would probably send him into hiding. She did not even know if he had ever.well, there was no good way to ask and with the isolation Irons had forced on him, she doubted he had ever had a physical relationship with anyone. Certainly would explain some of his reactions, the things he had told her. How on earth Irons had managed to keep the women off him, and keep him under control like that was beyond her. He was beautiful and completely unaware of it. Damn, what was she going to do with him. A few thoughts followed that one that she really was not up to dwelling on at that moment. God, last night must have been hell for him And I was just oblivious. Good going, Pezzini, you can be so clueless sometimes.. She almost wished she had thought it through more. Oh, well, he seemed to have survived, thrived a little even. That kiss was certainly more ballsy than I would have expected. All this was compounding the headache that had accompanied the really intense vision. She started to sit up, but dizziness forced her back down.
"Are you all right?" Ian asked concerned, wanting to check for himself, but thinking that might be a bit too invasive, considering.
"Aspirin, please.cabinet in the kitchen over the coffee maker," she asked. He rose quickly and brought them back to her. She took the aspirin and laid back. "I'll be better soon," she reassured him.
"You need to sleep." He reached down and lifted her into his arms, determined for once that she would do what was necessary without him having to argue with her.
"What the. where.." She struggled against him weakly.
"I'm taking you to bed," he said, determined . "I thought you wanted to wait," she said, some of her sarcasm returning, assuring him that she would in fact be all right.
"To sleep." He told her firmly as he put her down in the bed.
"Alright, then. A nap, but don't let me sleep too long," she told him as sleepiness begin to cloud her thoughts.
"It's all right, Sara. I'll be right here," he whispered.
"Ian, stay." The last words she managed as she dozed off.
Sara woke slowly, feeling warm and safe. Comfortable arms held her tightly, and she leaned back, drowsy. Suddenly, her eyes opened and she gazed down at the hands crossed over her. They were pale, sensitive hands that had not seen the light of day for many years. Here first reaction was to push away, to yell at him for invading her space even more than she had let him. Before that thought was even finished, another, how would he react. Anyway, she was too tired and it was too early for her to start a fight with him. It's not like she really minded, when she thought about it, she was just surprised. It was probably just some weird protective instinct, but after last nights little roller coaster ride it just seemed like they could probably both use the comfort. Interesting that even in sleep, his arms crossed over her, his bare hands were not even touching her. Strange though, when she fell asleep, he had been hugging the other side of the bed like a drowning man, not even willing to get under the covers.
She thought about getting free, but was not sure about the safety in waking him suddenly. She was sure that he wouldn't hurt her, not consciously, but trained as he was. She studied his hands, seeing the tan line that marked where his gloves usually fell, the edge of a tattoo showing above his sweater cuff. Somehow, it seemed so unlike him, a tattoo. Maybe it was teenage rebellion? She leaned back against him, enjoying his warmth and the comfortable feeling. He confused her. She knew there was a lot more to him than what she saw, what she knew. The thoughts were making her restless.. This was all too much to think about before coffee. She wondered how much longer he would sleep. If this was another sixteen hour one, she was in trouble. She shifted carefully in his arms, so she could look at him. His body was completely still in sleep, as though making up for his restlessness awake. Only his face was relaxed, dark eyes closed, lips slightly parted. He is something else she thought. I just wish I knew what. He stirred restlessly in his sleep, pulling her closer. She let him, figuring this was the first sign of returning consciousness.
Ian came to suddenly, opening his eyes for the second time to find Sara watching him. But this time, he felt his own arms around her, her resting against his chest.
"Morning," she said softly. He wanted to release her, to bolt in sheer embarrassment. How could he possibly have let her catch him like this? But she seemed calm, and he didn't really want to let her go. "I didn't want to wake you. I wasn't sure how you would react."
"Probably best. While I can feel your presence, reflex actions are hard to break out of." He realized how tightly he was holding her and loosened his grip a little, giving her the chance to break free if she wanted to, expecting her to pull back immediately. Instead she lay there, studying his face for a moment. He kept his breathing rigidly controlled, not wanting her to see how her closeness disturbed him.
"Last night when I fell asleep, you were on the other side of the bed. I was a little surprised to wake up so close to you." Ian looked embarrassed and started to move away from her.
"You were having a bad dream. I just wanted to help you," he said quietly. "I'm sorry if I did something wrong, something to break your trust."
"You didn't. I was just surprised to wake up and not find you on the floor." She said, lightly, teasing him a little, trying to get him to relax a little. He seemed more than a little uncomfortable and she resisted the temptation to tease him further.
"I thought about it," he admitted. "But I decided I did not want to risk your anger when you tripped over me," he said with one of those lightening flashes of humor. "Besides, I didn't want my movement to wake you up." And I could not resist being so close to you, no matter how painful, he added silently to himself.
"Well, right now I need some breakfast. How about you?" she said, turning the subject as she got up. He drew back from her and sat up as well.
"Yes, please. Can I help?" he asked as she stretched a little.
"Can you cook?" she asked incredulously.
"No, but I'm sure that there is something I can do," he said as he rose, cat-like, from the bed.
Sara yawned and ran her fingers through her hair. "All right, just give me a minute." She walked into the bathroom. Ian took a few deep breaths and began to stretch a little. Two days of relative inactivity were making his muscles knot. He slid smoothly into a kata he used to wake up. Focusing completely on what he was doing, trying to calm his racing mind, he failed to hear Sara emerge. She stood in the doorway, fascinated, not wanting to disturb him. His motions were smooth, fluid, like ink on water. God, he's beautiful. He came to the end and stopped. "That was incredible," she said from behind him. He turned and looked at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to disturb you."
"I'm afraid I needed to stretch. I've been a bit too inactive the last couple of days," he said apologetically.
"No, believe me, I understand. I haven't gotten out, myself."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Some things are a little more important." A thought struck her. "After breakfast, I have to go out. Would you like to come with me?" she asked as she crossed the room, heading for the kitchen.
Ian followed her. "Certainly. Where are we going?"
"After breakfast," she said. "And after coffee."
Sitting at the table sometime later, empty breakfast dishes spread out over the surface, they shared a companionable silence, finishing their drinks. After all that had happened in the last couple of days, it still hit her hard to see her tall, dark, and deadly stalker sitting calmly eating scrambled eggs and toast at her table, and after spending the night in his arms. She still couldn't believe that he had done that, or how good it had felt to be close to him. Watching him stretch had raised her pulse more than she cared to think about. She contemplated her surprise, sure that he would be happy to be doing something again. She wondered how many pleasant surprises he had ever gotten. It was strange but considering what she now knew about him, she was really anxious to find out more. "You finished, Nottingham?" she asked, rising to clear the table.
"Yes, Sara. And curious about where we are going."
"Dishes first, surprise afterwards. Now, hand me those plates." Ian handed her the rest of the dishes and watched as she set the kitchen in order. It was nice to sit here and watch her, without having to be out in the weather. It was even better to be here because she wanted him to be. It made his heart lurch every time he thought about it, her letting him into her life, even a little bit. And then last night. he pushed those thoughts away again, although the effort was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. He took a moment to pull himself together as Sara finally finished her tasks. "Now, Ian, get yourself something you can move in."
"Where are we going?"
"To fix both of our laziness problems," she said simply, and went behind the screen to get some clothes. Ian, intrigued, grabbed a few things from his bag and headed off into the bathroom. When he returned, he had changed and pinned his hair into a tight bun at the back of his head. He walked into the living area and pulled his gloves on. He thought for a moment, then added the wraps from his bag, pretty sure what she had in mind, in general if not specific. Sara came out in sweatpants and an NYPD sweat jacket, carrying a small bag. "Ready?" she asked him, as she grabbed the Witchblade off the table and slid it onto her wrist. Noticing that the gloves were missing, she glanced down at his hands but said nothing. After all, it was cold outside, and besides, he needed time. He was right, she was pushing, but it offended her so deeply to see him isolated by his father, even after the man was dead. On the other hand, it was probably best if he took his time. She grabbed her jacket and he grabbed his topcoat as they left the apartment.
Down on the street, Ian tried to guess where they were going. He gave up and simply followed her, taking time to enjoy walking with her in the wintry chill. Sunday is a quiet day on the streets of New York and they made good time. Ian recognized the route. They turned and entered the basement gym where Sara worked out. Nothing fancy for her, just a gritty, gray space with a ring, mats and some equipment, Spartan and practical. He had been there a couple of times, following her, watching her.
"Surprise." She said. "We could both use the exercise." Ian noticed they were alone except for the janitor in the corner, an older man with long reddish blonde hair. He thought that he had seen him before somewhere, but immediately dismissed the thought. Must have been here the last time he followed Sara. The janitor nodded politely at them and disappeared into the back of the building.
Ian shrugged off his topcoat pulled off his sweater, and replaced the gloves with wraps from his pockets. He had a black tee shirt on with no sleeves. Sara shook her head and almost thought about asking if he owned anything that wasn't black, but decided against it. "I'll take those." She grabbed his things and headed off in another direction. "Have fun," she called back over her shoulder.
When Ian finally emerged from his workout, he noticed Sara padded up, taking her time on the heavy bag. He walked over to watch her, enjoying her in motion. "Feeling better, Nottingham?" she said breathlessly, as she gave the bag a final punch. Ian picked up some pads and moved to stand near her. "Yes, I am." He held up the pads, and she took a few practice swings at them. "Not bad, Sara, but you need to hit a little harder," he said with a smile. Sara threw another couple of combinations at him, increasing force and speed. Ian shrugged. She backed off and came at him again, giving him all she could, the last one rocking him back just a little. "Better," he said. She rolled her eyes at him. "Sara, you will frequently be fighting opponents who are bigger and stronger. You need to push harder."
"Been doing all right on my own so far. I was trying to go easy on you, Nottingham. You want to put those down and go a few falls?"
"I don't particularly box, Sara," he told her.
"No holds barred, any style," she challenged him.
"I don't want to hurt you," he said, intrigued by the idea.
"Worry about yourself." She took a last focused punch at him, rocking him back again.
He sighed a little, realizing he wasn't going to change her mind. Besides, it could be educational for both of them. "All right, Sara, I'm sure it will be interesting."
"You're on, Nottingham." She took off her gloves and put them down, as Nottingham dropped the pads on the table. As they settled into a corner of the mat, Sara waited for him to come at her, but he merely stood there. "Well, I'm waiting."
"Patience, Sara." He began circling her, slowly. Ian feinted right, and Sara moved to block, as he backed away. He tried again, moving to her left, then changing directions at the last moment. Sara shifted, narrowly blocking the blow. He retreated again, and she followed. He took a swing which she ducked easily, coming in for a jab at his ribs. As his knee came up to block, she grabbed him under his leg and threw him to the mat. She dropped quickly to her knees, to try to keep him down, but lightening-fast, his leg came up and hooked her behind the neck. As he pulled, she rolled with it, landing on her back, with her neck under his knee and her feet facing his head. She spun quickly, slipping her head free. As she regained her feet, he was once again up, backing away from her. "That was good, Sara, but you need to be faster. If this were real, I would have snapped your neck."
"Yeah, I got that. Let's go again," she said, shaking it off. They went a few more passes, while Sara tried to determine his style, figure out where he was coming from. He made another pass. This time she feinted and let him go around her. She turned quickly, aiming a kick at the back of his knees as he went past. Ian went down, grabbing her ankle and pulling her with him. She landed on the back of his legs as he rolled. Pushing past her, he rolled over onto the mat. She came at him this time. Ducking his arm, she came inside his guard, pushing him from the shoulder. He spun around and caught her off-side, taking her to the ground beneath him. She hit the mat with a sharp exhale, sweating hard.
"Are you all right?" he asked, shifting his weight onto his arms.
"Yeah, just lost my breath for a minute," she said.
"Are you sure you want to continue?"
"Yes, I do. This is fun. We should do this more often," she said from the mat underneath him.
"Sara, I'll gladly teach you all that I can, but I can't do it in one day. I've had years of training, you have to catch up in a short time."
"I'm not exactly helpless, you know," she said, a little irritated at him, not to mention her current position. "Besides, when did this turn into a training session? I thought we were here to have fun."
"We are having fun and I know you aren't, Sara. But I just couldn't stand to lose you." Impulsively, he leaned down and kissed her. Sara was stunned, both by the statement and the kiss, stunned, but pleased at the same time. It felt good and it wasn't just a side effect of the game. She began to return the kiss enthusiastically, sliding one hand up onto his shoulder. Ian was shocked, by his own boldness, by the kiss, which she seemed to be returning, and the feeling was overwhelming.
Suddenly, they both heard the door bang open. Ian jumped to his feet, turning, the look on his face changing to calculation and wariness for a second before registering that there was no danger. Sara held out her hand to him to help her up. When he lifted her to her feet, his hands were shaking. She leaned close to him. "I think we should continue this at home. I'll be right back. Don't move."
Ian, too busy trying to regain his scattered wits to say anything, nodded. She went to get their things, leaving him standing bemused in the middle of the gym. He'd taken advantage of the moment and she hadn't rejected him. His world had gone from despair to hope in a matter of days, leaving him reeling in shock. But he had lost control and he didn't know where to go from here. He had a deep fear that something would happen, that he would do something wrong. Besides, after years of conditioning and control, his emotions were breaking free with more force than he really knew how to handle. What if he hurt her? What if she simply wanted to let him down easily? What if she didn't and then he had to take the next step? What if there were something buried in his programming that he didn't know about? And how could he explain it to her without her thinking him some kind of freak? He didn't think he could stand to have her look at him like that again. The questions were chasing themselves around in his head, but one thing he knew, at least she still wanted him to come with her, for now.
Sara went into the back to the lockers and grabbed a towel out of her bag. Damn, of all the things she was thinking about this morning, ending up pinned to the mat, locked in a very intense kiss with Ian Nottingham was not any of them. She put her sweat jacket on and tried to iron this out, afraid to leave him alone too long. The red rose he gave her the other night made a whole lot of sense, now. But what was she supposed to do with him? Every time he made a small move forward he almost immediately backed off. One thing was certain, they were both attracted to each other, and pretty intensely at that, if she was any judge. The Witchblade had warmed on her wrist while they were fighting and even more so while they were kissing. It didn't make a lot of sense, but somehow kissing him felt good, it felt right and that troubled her a little too. This was Nottingham, he was supposed to make cryptic comments, threaten her, not come into her life, her home and stir up her feeling like this. The look in his eyes, though, when he kissed her made her heart race more than anyone ever had. The thoughts were spinning in her head almost to the point of making her physically dizzy. He was obviously confused and Sara figured that she better have a plan, even if she was just as confused. How to fit this together.
Sara emerged with their things, handing him his coat and sweater. He was standing there looking guarded and uncertain. She smiled reassuringly at him, as he pulled the sweater on over his tee shirt and exchanged his wraps for gloves. "Ian, it's o.k. Really. We'll talk when we get home." It must have been what he wanted to hear. He looked at her cautiously, as if he didn't dare to believe her. "Really, come on, let's go." He grabbed his coat and walked with Sara out into the gray winter sunshine.
As they hit the street Sara reached for his arm, placing her hand on it very gently, just enough to let him know she was beside him. As they walked in silence, Sara wondered what had changed her feelings towards him. What had taken him from potentially dangerous enemy to ally, friend, and maybe something more. Not that she really understood her feelings for him. He was many things; dangerous, mysterious, cryptic, kind, uncertain, and strangely gentle. The attraction between them was a surprise but then why should it be? She should have seen it before now. he had a lot of information, but it was something more than just hormones and data that was happening. She wasn't sure she was ready to name it to herself, much less him. He was obviously having trouble with things as it was, this was going to take one hell of a balancing act. She pushed it all away and just enjoyed the walk. She was halfway home before she remembered the groceries.
"We need to stop. Need groceries." She told him breaking the silence between them reluctantly.
"Now?" he said, startled.
"Yes, now, otherwise I have no groceries and you have no dinner."
"Pizza? You could let me buy dinner," he said, torn but anxious to be home with her. It was strange that while the thought of the conversation frightened him more than he could possibly imagine, the fact that she was willing was thrilling, freeing in a way. He did not know what would come of it, but in spite of his mistake, she had not pushed him away.
"I still need to get food. It's easier if I don't have to do it while I'm working."
"Very well, I just thought that you wanted to talk." He felt a little thrill, home, she called it, as if he had the right to claim a small part of it. He was nervous, confused, but at the same time he wanted to know what was happening.
"And we will, after the store," she said. She continued playfully, "this is new, so far I have had to drag things out of you. Especially the personal stuff."
"Maybe now I have something that is worth talking about? I have never been required to talk about myself often. It is a new experience for me." He smiled at her. It was getting easier.
"That may be but we still have to eat." The sudden change in him was a little disconcerting but it beat him disappearing suddenly, which had been her initial fear. "Now, what do you like?"
"Whatever you want." Sara gazed up at the heavens, asking for strength. They went into the grocery store.
When they came out, Sara had enough food to feed an army, or at least one hungry man. Not sure how long he was staying, she had figured on stocking up a little, the budget not being conducive to take out. Ian had insisting on paying for them, since she had fed him and she had no good reason to object. They carried the bags back to her apartment and Sara set to putting up the groceries while Ian watched her, anxiously. He wanted to talk but he was nervous at the same time. He did not know what to say or how to say it. How much he could really tell her, in spite of what she already knew, it was still hard to admit to things. He knew how he felt, that was all, but did not know if that was enough, or even if he could or should tell her. It would be so much easier to let it slip by.
Sara finished putting away the groceries reluctantly. They needed to talk about this but now that they were here alone, it was hard to know where to start. She turned to find Ian watching her, standing by the counter as if he did not know what to do with himself. That makes two of us. She grabbed a couple of bottles of water and threw one to him. "Ian, why don't you take a seat." She took off her sweat jacket and threw it over the chair. She thought longingly of a shower, but was not sure about putting this off longer. Give the man an out, she thought, although in all fairness she had to add, Or me either.
Ian sat down on the couch, putting a little space between them. How did he discuss feelings that were so new to him? He thought about Sara, so different from anyone else, the only one to reach out for him. He was confused by her. What was it that made it so much easier to get close to her when they were in conflict or when she was unconscious? Rejection? But she hadn't yet. He understood physical attraction in theory, although his father had always put it in context of control. Using it as a tool to control others, protecting yourself from control. But Irons had always been the ultimate control, and now he was gone.
Always remember, the less emotional attachments you have, the less vulnerable you'll be. Isolation is safety, virginity is invulnerability.his fathers' voice echoed harsh in his ears. He was wrong. If anything his connection, his love for Sara made him stronger, more sure of himself. It gave him a cause again. That was something Kenneth Irons had never wanted him to understand. The difference, he realized, was in himself. His father had in many ways wanted him to remain a child, a servant, always dependent on him for his only emotional contact. He offered his chains to Sara and she simply ignored them, refused to admit they even existed. She treated him as an equal, a man. She was the first person in a long time that had actually asked about him as if he had the right to have a life outside his role as Kenneth Irons' shadow. How to start, to explain so that she would understand what he barely understood himself?
Sara watched Ian lost to his thoughts and decided she could sneak a quick shower. Let him get his head together and give her time to figure out what to say, what to do. Yes, they were attracted to each other, but was that a complication that either of them needed, especially at this point? And could they really do anything about it? She walked into the bathroom and closed the door. There was a lot more there, but at a certain level they needed each other, and this could make things difficult at best. And what did he want anyway? "Ok," she said to herself, lets think about this rationally. "He is a nice enough guy, intelligent, charming, and god those eyes. Whoa, hang on, this is Nottingham, he is dangerous, he has more emotional issues than anyone else on the planet." Except you, the voice in the back of her head reminded her. And he is strong enough, good enough to protect himself. He won't die on you. He is the one person who can understand. This is completely new for him, but he is willing to risk everything for you. He needs you. Do you have the courage to try, to face someone who is strong enough to be your equal, to help him? She pushed her thoughts away as she grabbed her shower and threw on some clean clothes. Returning, she found Ian still gazing into space. She smiled, he had not even noticed she had gone, so lost was he in his own mind. "Ian, where are you?" Her voice cut into his thoughts. He noticed she had showered and changed while he sat there alone in his own inner conflict.
"In a reverie?" he said, unsure how to explain. "Waiting for you."
"You looked like you could use a few moments, I know I did," she told him as she sat down on the other end of the couch. This was becoming familiar; they had established a pattern, her on one end, him on the other. It would have been comfortable except for the conversation that hung over them. So easy to push it away, not deal with it now. But they both knew it would not go away.
"Sara," Ian began slowly, "I had no intention of burdening you with my feelings. It is inappropriate and I should never have been so discourteous." His formality had returned and that saddened her a bit.
"Stop it," she said impatiently, a little annoyed that he was trying to push it off. "Ian, it happened. All you did was kiss me, and while I'm sure it would be easier to put it down to the heat of the moment, I think we both know better. Are you saying you are sorry? That you didn't mean it?"
"No, I would never do that. I'm not. I just did not want to push myself on you. I don't want to ruin everything we have worked for. You know I would never do anything."
"I know this is difficult, I'm not the best at this emotional stuff myself. It is obvious that there is something between us and in case you hadn't noticed, I wasn't exactly objecting."
"How could you, I did not give you the chance. Instead I just blundered in. I love you, Sara, and I can't seem to do anything about it." He told her "And I don't think I really want to, but I don't want to risk what I already have." His outburst startled him. His brown eyes were dark with pain, and confusion. Sara wanted to do something, to reach out, but she knew at this exact moment it would be a bad idea, he needed to say what was on his mind and he was holding it together by a real thin thread. One more push and he would probably be out the window and out of her life, and the one thing she was sure of was that was not what she wanted. "I know I should go, but I am afraid, to go.to stay.to face you..." he paused, looking at her intensely. "I can't remember ever really fearing anything before."
"Don't go," she said quietly. He looked away and then back, his eyes had a trapped look and as much as she wanted to help him, she knew that she was part of that trap. "That would accomplish exactly nothing. Listen, I know that this is not anything you were prepared for, Irons saw to that. I wasn't either. In the last few days I have learned more about you than I ever thought I would. I know that I am starting to feel something for you, I enjoy your company and you are a really attractive guy, but there is something more going on. I am just not really ready to put a name to it. I wish I could give you what you want, but I can't. This is new to me too. I have never had anything like this to happen, and certainly not this fast." His heart fell into his shoes and he looked down, not sure he wanted to hear the rest, wishing he had never started this. She reached out and touched his face, turned him to look at her. "I'm not sure, not yet. I want us to be friends, allies and well, I don't know what else." His eyes met hers, hope returning a little light to them. "Not yet, not until I'm sure myself. Anything else would be unfair to you. But I won't say no. We just have to take things as they come." She leaned forward and kissed him gently, much different from the kiss he gave her earlier. Ian was stunned, her kiss sending his mind soaring. He pulled back suddenly, afraid of where this could lead, what could happen. It would be so easy to make a mistake and have her angry at him once again. His eyes were dark, intense and filled with emotion.
"That's the first time I have ever gotten that reaction," she said lightly, trying once again to figure out what was going on in his head, to resist being embarrassed or angry. She was not exactly sure herself what made her do it, except that she was running on instinct, and it had seemed right. He told her he loved her, and then when she kissed him, he backed off again. Stood to reason, she supposed, isolation making contact hard to take especially under these circumstances.
"I." he started, trying to put his thoughts back in order. Not wanting her to get the wrong idea, he took a deep breath and reached out a slightly shaking hand to touch her face. She flinched away when leather touched skin. In an instant he realized his error and pulled off his ring and gloves angrily, and threw them in the direction of the table. Sara recovered quickly, embarrassed by her reaction, knowing what it had cost him to reach out. She took his bare hand in hers and lifted it. His fingers accidentally strayed over the Witchblade.
The vision hit her hard, causing them both to react; she fell back against the arm of the couch, as Ian grabbed her to keep her from falling.
Images flashed through her mind: Ian in armor being torn from her arms as they dragged her away. The two of them embracing passionately in a strange room before a fire, dressed in strange clothes. Ian fighting at her back in a pitched battle, rallying forces around a banner she tried to keep upright. Taking a sword stroke meant for her, while guarding her back. Sacrificing his life for her in a modern warehouse while she watched, unable to do anything.
Sara came back to herself on the couch, Ian kneeling beside her on the floor. She looked into his eyes, seeing his concern. "You knew, didn't you?" she asked hoarsely. Ian handed her the water from the table. She took it and drank. He did not answer, nor meet her eyes. "Didn't you?" she asked more strongly.
"I had dreams." he said simply.
"But you knew we were even more connected than you said. And you didn't tell me," she said, hurt in her voice.
"I wanted you to come to me for myself, not for what we had been to each other in the past. I thought you might feel.obligated. I didn't want that. Besides there was no good way to explain it, not and have you believe me." Reassured that he was sincere, she reached out to touch his face.
"I guess the Witchblade insisted. It wants us to be together."
"Yes, but what do you want?" he asked, looking up at her, hope and fear mixing in his face. Everything was out in the open and all he could think of was what he would do if she turned away from him. Sara was not comfortable with mystical connections, with anything that she did not understand, now he hung on her every word, afraid to hope that she would see him for what he wanted to be.
"To get to know you better, to see where this is going. I haven't changed my mind you know. I was already very attracted to you and now that I know more, know how you feel." she said quietly.
"Sara, don't make any promises, please. Not until you know your own heart. I do not want to ruin everything for something as unimportant as this," he told her, talking to himself as much as to her, although the effort was costing him a great deal.
"Ian, your feelings are not unimportant, what kind of heartless bitch do you think I am?" Her words startled him and he looked up to see the fire in her eyes. "If you want to live a normal life, to try to sort out what you want, then you have got to stop that." She shook her head at him, stopping suddenly when the pain in her head told her that it was a bad idea.
"I want you," he said softly, almost too low for her to hear. "As much or as little as you are willing to give."
"Don't put this all off on me. I am not going to be responsible for you. It is has got to be all or nothing. What do you want?" her voice was a little loud in her own ears and it was making the pain in her head worse.
I want to be with you." There was strength in his voice this time, conviction.
"Better, I don't know what to say to that except that I think we should try." She could see his concern, like he was still working out what he had just committed to. He was becoming much easier for her to read. She wondered if it was him that was changing or if she were just becoming more aware.
"Don't worry, Nottingham," she said playfully, trying to take the pressure off him, ease the tension a little. "We have time." The promise in her words made him look up at her, see that she was smiling softly at him. He was spinning inside with pent-up emotion, but his heart wanted to explode. He felt that he had won the world, to believe that she would at least not reject him now. He was in a haze and all the time Sara lay so close he felt that he could reach out and touch her and know she would not turn away.
Sara was still trying to put her own head back together. The vision had been intense. Her feelings for Ian were clarifying, although she was still not ready to commit to anything, not yet anyway, especially till she worked out what was going on in her head. She had always been a little leery of emotional involvement, and entanglements that involved the Witchblade and past lives were a little much to take right now. And Ian.well she wasn't completely sure he knew what a normal relationship was and Irons had not necessarily set the best example. It would be so easy to hurt him, he was completely vulnerable and she didn't want that hanging over her. Ian loved her, of that she was sure, ever since he had said it she could since it, like a wall going down, connected. But was he ready for all that was involved? Hell, the first fight would probably send him into hiding. She did not even know if he had ever.well, there was no good way to ask and with the isolation Irons had forced on him, she doubted he had ever had a physical relationship with anyone. Certainly would explain some of his reactions, the things he had told her. How on earth Irons had managed to keep the women off him, and keep him under control like that was beyond her. He was beautiful and completely unaware of it. Damn, what was she going to do with him. A few thoughts followed that one that she really was not up to dwelling on at that moment. God, last night must have been hell for him And I was just oblivious. Good going, Pezzini, you can be so clueless sometimes.. She almost wished she had thought it through more. Oh, well, he seemed to have survived, thrived a little even. That kiss was certainly more ballsy than I would have expected. All this was compounding the headache that had accompanied the really intense vision. She started to sit up, but dizziness forced her back down.
"Are you all right?" Ian asked concerned, wanting to check for himself, but thinking that might be a bit too invasive, considering.
"Aspirin, please.cabinet in the kitchen over the coffee maker," she asked. He rose quickly and brought them back to her. She took the aspirin and laid back. "I'll be better soon," she reassured him.
"You need to sleep." He reached down and lifted her into his arms, determined for once that she would do what was necessary without him having to argue with her.
"What the. where.." She struggled against him weakly.
"I'm taking you to bed," he said, determined . "I thought you wanted to wait," she said, some of her sarcasm returning, assuring him that she would in fact be all right.
"To sleep." He told her firmly as he put her down in the bed.
"Alright, then. A nap, but don't let me sleep too long," she told him as sleepiness begin to cloud her thoughts.
"It's all right, Sara. I'll be right here," he whispered.
"Ian, stay." The last words she managed as she dozed off.