She was in a dream; of that at least Sara was sure, a sweet, intense,
erotic dream. She couldn't tell where or when, yet again she was in the
back of someone else's mind, sharing their memories. All she knew was the
darkness of the enclosed bed, the feel of fur beneath her, and Ian, or
someone who looked like him. The hair was longer, the beard shaggier, but
the eyes were the same, those warm, expressive eyes that made her heart
beat faster. He was with her, kissing her, the soft brush of his beard
against her skin arousing and maddening. She pressed closer, fingers
tangling in his long hair, legs entwined with his, wanting him so badly it
was a dull ache. He raised his head and looked at her, those dark eyes lit
from within and laughed a little before returning to his teasing. She
growled low in her throat, the Witchblade warm on her wrist, responding to
her feelings, it's swirling colours adding a soft light and.woke up
suddenly in her own bed, drenched with sweat as the alarm went off. She
rose hurriedly and half ran to the bathroom before Ian even moved. She
closed the door behind her and turned the shower on cold. Maybe after that
she would be ready or at least able to look Ian in the eye.
She stepped into a really cold shower, hoping to get her thoughts and feelings back in their place. These shared dreams or memories or whatever they were, they were getting worse. It was hard to think clearly or anything. She tried to focus, to separate what was her and what was the other Wielder in the dream, to get an idea, if it was just her or one of those strange pseudo-memories, but she just couldn't concentrate on it. How was she supposed to figure out what was going on in her life with this thing interfering? Was it a memory or what she wanted to happen? She took several deep breaths and focused on trying to start her day. What was it trying to do, push them together? Or was it just wishful thinking on her part? Damn all this round and round was not going to solve anything, it was just going to make her late for work. She sighed and stepped out of the shower, determined to put it out of her mind and concentrate on getting ready to go.
Ian rose slowly from the floor, listened for the shower to start and then began to fold his bedding. He needed to get his mind cleared. Did Sara share this dream with him, he wondered. Was this his dream or hers? He was no longer able to separate the two. Certainly she had taken off for the bathroom hurriedly enough. But it had saved him trying to look at her with the dream still burning in his eyes. He knew that dreams were meant to teach, or so Irons had always told him, but what was he to learn from this? He loved Sara; he wanted to have a relationship with her. He put on the coffee and began his kata, hoping that the movement would help to clear his mind and let him focus. Slowly he slid through the familiar series of moves, letting his muscles take over and relax while his mind distanced itsself from the person in the dream, the one who was and was not him. In the dream he was so confident, so sure of her feelings. How did he begin to reconcile that image with his own image of himself? Sara had made it clear that she was interested in pursuing a further relationship with him but he had trouble accepting his own worthiness for the role. He continued to move, finding comfort in the familiar patterns, warming the body and stilling the mind, at least for the moment. He finished the first set and began another, even more complex, pushing his body a little harder, trying to create a calm inside himself, usually so easy but today more trying that ever before.
Leaving the bathroom to prepare for work, Sara was surprised to see Ian throwing his clothes into his bag. "What are you doing Ian?"
"Just gathering up my things," he told her as he finished and straightened up, taking the bag with him.
"Are you leaving?" she asked with a sudden concern. While she was a little confused, she knew for sure that she did not want him to leave before they had worked out this relationship between them and she had been pretty sure that he was not anxious to.
"Would you like me to leave?" he asked, strangely formal as he had been all morning.
"No, of course not, but I come out of the bathroom and see you packing what do you expect me to think?" She was a little glad for his mood after the intense dream which had awakened her. A little distance was probably a good thing right now, but still.
"I am sorry that you got the wrong impression, I was just planning on sending them home for new ones."
"Oh, that makes sense, but you could have just asked me to throw them in the wash."
"Sara, I would not want to put you out." Great, she thought, he is still being formal, over laundry, am I ever going to figure him out? She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee, grateful that he had thought to put it on when he didn't even drink the stuff. He makes me coffee, but won't put me out with his laundry.
"But you will have to go home sometime, won't you?" she asked, the smallest bit of concern showing in her voice. It was like they had created a little bubble of peace here, and she didn't want anything to disturb that. He came into the kitchen, dropping his bag on the table.
"Yes," he admitted, pleased beyond words that she was so adamant about his staying. But his visit with Immo had reminded him of his duty, to the staff, to his father. He needed to go home, not immediately but soon. The idea was both pleasing and frightening, no matter what, it was still the only home he had ever known. "Sara, would you come with me?" he asked, a little shyly. She took a deep breath, not wanting to let him know just how much the idea frightened her.
"If you really want me to. But we might want to wait until Saturday, when I'm off. Then we will have a little time." She tried to keep it light. No big deal, just a return to the place where I killed your father, she thought guiltily. It was not going to be easy for either of them but he was right. He couldn't hide from the memories forever, her either. Not if they wanted to make a relationship. She couldn't make him. "Are you sure you want me to?"
"Better for us to face our demons together," he told her, sensing her concern. "Guard each others backs?" He tried to smile at her, cover for both their nervousness. "Sara, I have been changing, trying to find a way to make a new life. It is easy to be different here, away from everything I have known. I am not sure how I will feel when I am back there; if you are beside me it will be easier. And if I am with you perhaps I can help you forget? Begin to share my home with you as you have with me? I want you to understand." There was a pleading look in his eyes was impossible to resist. Puppy dog eyes, why do I have to go for the guys with the big brown puppy dog eyes? She nodded her agreement.
"Thank you, Sara. Besides, we need to go back. There are answers there, about the Witchblade. My father did have the largest collection of data on it. He taught me a lot, but there is still much more we need to learn. He was the real expert. It will be hard to find the time, but I will manage."
A sudden thought occurred to her. "Gabriel,"
"What?" he asked.
"Gabriel Bowman, he is a friend, he owns."
"Talismaniac, my father made purchases from him. The collection has needed to be professionally archived for years, but Irons was unwilling to allow a stranger near enough to work on it." He gave her a little smile and she was amused at the mental picture of Irons, hoarding his relics like a child with his Christmas toys. In some ways it reminded her of Gabriel. The match would be perfect. "But can he be trusted? There are reasons besides paranoia that Irons was not willing to let others near. Do you think he would be willing to help?"
"Because he knows about this thing and he is a friend. He is a good kid and he loves this kind of stuff. I can ask him, but I don't think it will be a problem."
"Well, I would be more than willing to pay him whatever is fair. It will help us and needs to be taken care of in any case."
"He would probably do it for free, but throw money into the mix and I am pretty sure he would be glad to do it. I will call him when I get a minute." She smiled at him, glad that they had managed to get away from the subject of the house and onto a subject with a practical solution, no emotions, no mysticism, just a simple case of finding the right answers.
"He has at least passed the security screening."
"The what? Nottingham did you." There was a rising note of temper in her voice but she was cut off.
Ian laughed. "No Sara, I do not have checks run on everyone you know. Irons had me do them on everyone he dealt with. He believed in being.cautious."
"You mean paranoid," she said a little sarcastically. He shrugged; it was not the first time that he had heard that comment, or even thought it.
"He wanted to know who he was dealing with. I merely carried out the order."
"Well, Gabriel has been reliable for me and I trust him."
"Then since you trust him, in this case I shall as well. It does make life a bit less complicated. I was a little concerned about where I would find the time. Will you ask him? I am sure that it would be an easier task."
"Sure, I'll call him and see what I can do. The sooner we get someone on this the better. It's not like I don't have enough on my plate at the moment."
"Yes, you do. When are you and your partner going to want to interview me?" he asked, changing the subject as he put his gloves on and moved his ring over them. She gave a quick glance at the clock and realized that she had spent way to much time talking and not enough time getting ready.
"We should probably get it over with. Do you have time this afternoon?"
"Yes, but don't wait for me to eat dinner, I will be a little late tonight." Suddenly the intense domesticity of the scene struck them both as funny. They laughed together a little self-consciously; only a few days earlier they had been all but enemies. Now they were discussing dinner plans and he had a key to the apartment. It gave Ian a sense of confidence that was beyond anything he had felt before, a sense of hope. Suddenly he leaned forward and kissed Sara, although he kept his hands at his sides. It was a warm, quick kiss, over before she could respond. He quickly grabbed his bag and was gone through the door.
She stepped into a really cold shower, hoping to get her thoughts and feelings back in their place. These shared dreams or memories or whatever they were, they were getting worse. It was hard to think clearly or anything. She tried to focus, to separate what was her and what was the other Wielder in the dream, to get an idea, if it was just her or one of those strange pseudo-memories, but she just couldn't concentrate on it. How was she supposed to figure out what was going on in her life with this thing interfering? Was it a memory or what she wanted to happen? She took several deep breaths and focused on trying to start her day. What was it trying to do, push them together? Or was it just wishful thinking on her part? Damn all this round and round was not going to solve anything, it was just going to make her late for work. She sighed and stepped out of the shower, determined to put it out of her mind and concentrate on getting ready to go.
Ian rose slowly from the floor, listened for the shower to start and then began to fold his bedding. He needed to get his mind cleared. Did Sara share this dream with him, he wondered. Was this his dream or hers? He was no longer able to separate the two. Certainly she had taken off for the bathroom hurriedly enough. But it had saved him trying to look at her with the dream still burning in his eyes. He knew that dreams were meant to teach, or so Irons had always told him, but what was he to learn from this? He loved Sara; he wanted to have a relationship with her. He put on the coffee and began his kata, hoping that the movement would help to clear his mind and let him focus. Slowly he slid through the familiar series of moves, letting his muscles take over and relax while his mind distanced itsself from the person in the dream, the one who was and was not him. In the dream he was so confident, so sure of her feelings. How did he begin to reconcile that image with his own image of himself? Sara had made it clear that she was interested in pursuing a further relationship with him but he had trouble accepting his own worthiness for the role. He continued to move, finding comfort in the familiar patterns, warming the body and stilling the mind, at least for the moment. He finished the first set and began another, even more complex, pushing his body a little harder, trying to create a calm inside himself, usually so easy but today more trying that ever before.
Leaving the bathroom to prepare for work, Sara was surprised to see Ian throwing his clothes into his bag. "What are you doing Ian?"
"Just gathering up my things," he told her as he finished and straightened up, taking the bag with him.
"Are you leaving?" she asked with a sudden concern. While she was a little confused, she knew for sure that she did not want him to leave before they had worked out this relationship between them and she had been pretty sure that he was not anxious to.
"Would you like me to leave?" he asked, strangely formal as he had been all morning.
"No, of course not, but I come out of the bathroom and see you packing what do you expect me to think?" She was a little glad for his mood after the intense dream which had awakened her. A little distance was probably a good thing right now, but still.
"I am sorry that you got the wrong impression, I was just planning on sending them home for new ones."
"Oh, that makes sense, but you could have just asked me to throw them in the wash."
"Sara, I would not want to put you out." Great, she thought, he is still being formal, over laundry, am I ever going to figure him out? She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee, grateful that he had thought to put it on when he didn't even drink the stuff. He makes me coffee, but won't put me out with his laundry.
"But you will have to go home sometime, won't you?" she asked, the smallest bit of concern showing in her voice. It was like they had created a little bubble of peace here, and she didn't want anything to disturb that. He came into the kitchen, dropping his bag on the table.
"Yes," he admitted, pleased beyond words that she was so adamant about his staying. But his visit with Immo had reminded him of his duty, to the staff, to his father. He needed to go home, not immediately but soon. The idea was both pleasing and frightening, no matter what, it was still the only home he had ever known. "Sara, would you come with me?" he asked, a little shyly. She took a deep breath, not wanting to let him know just how much the idea frightened her.
"If you really want me to. But we might want to wait until Saturday, when I'm off. Then we will have a little time." She tried to keep it light. No big deal, just a return to the place where I killed your father, she thought guiltily. It was not going to be easy for either of them but he was right. He couldn't hide from the memories forever, her either. Not if they wanted to make a relationship. She couldn't make him. "Are you sure you want me to?"
"Better for us to face our demons together," he told her, sensing her concern. "Guard each others backs?" He tried to smile at her, cover for both their nervousness. "Sara, I have been changing, trying to find a way to make a new life. It is easy to be different here, away from everything I have known. I am not sure how I will feel when I am back there; if you are beside me it will be easier. And if I am with you perhaps I can help you forget? Begin to share my home with you as you have with me? I want you to understand." There was a pleading look in his eyes was impossible to resist. Puppy dog eyes, why do I have to go for the guys with the big brown puppy dog eyes? She nodded her agreement.
"Thank you, Sara. Besides, we need to go back. There are answers there, about the Witchblade. My father did have the largest collection of data on it. He taught me a lot, but there is still much more we need to learn. He was the real expert. It will be hard to find the time, but I will manage."
A sudden thought occurred to her. "Gabriel,"
"What?" he asked.
"Gabriel Bowman, he is a friend, he owns."
"Talismaniac, my father made purchases from him. The collection has needed to be professionally archived for years, but Irons was unwilling to allow a stranger near enough to work on it." He gave her a little smile and she was amused at the mental picture of Irons, hoarding his relics like a child with his Christmas toys. In some ways it reminded her of Gabriel. The match would be perfect. "But can he be trusted? There are reasons besides paranoia that Irons was not willing to let others near. Do you think he would be willing to help?"
"Because he knows about this thing and he is a friend. He is a good kid and he loves this kind of stuff. I can ask him, but I don't think it will be a problem."
"Well, I would be more than willing to pay him whatever is fair. It will help us and needs to be taken care of in any case."
"He would probably do it for free, but throw money into the mix and I am pretty sure he would be glad to do it. I will call him when I get a minute." She smiled at him, glad that they had managed to get away from the subject of the house and onto a subject with a practical solution, no emotions, no mysticism, just a simple case of finding the right answers.
"He has at least passed the security screening."
"The what? Nottingham did you." There was a rising note of temper in her voice but she was cut off.
Ian laughed. "No Sara, I do not have checks run on everyone you know. Irons had me do them on everyone he dealt with. He believed in being.cautious."
"You mean paranoid," she said a little sarcastically. He shrugged; it was not the first time that he had heard that comment, or even thought it.
"He wanted to know who he was dealing with. I merely carried out the order."
"Well, Gabriel has been reliable for me and I trust him."
"Then since you trust him, in this case I shall as well. It does make life a bit less complicated. I was a little concerned about where I would find the time. Will you ask him? I am sure that it would be an easier task."
"Sure, I'll call him and see what I can do. The sooner we get someone on this the better. It's not like I don't have enough on my plate at the moment."
"Yes, you do. When are you and your partner going to want to interview me?" he asked, changing the subject as he put his gloves on and moved his ring over them. She gave a quick glance at the clock and realized that she had spent way to much time talking and not enough time getting ready.
"We should probably get it over with. Do you have time this afternoon?"
"Yes, but don't wait for me to eat dinner, I will be a little late tonight." Suddenly the intense domesticity of the scene struck them both as funny. They laughed together a little self-consciously; only a few days earlier they had been all but enemies. Now they were discussing dinner plans and he had a key to the apartment. It gave Ian a sense of confidence that was beyond anything he had felt before, a sense of hope. Suddenly he leaned forward and kissed Sara, although he kept his hands at his sides. It was a warm, quick kiss, over before she could respond. He quickly grabbed his bag and was gone through the door.