Ian breathed a sigh of relief as she closed the door behind her. He had
gotten away with it, just barely. He knew that she had every right to be
upset, and if she had proof, she would have been furious. He needed to
make her understand, to accept his need to do his duty as he accepted hers.
He was also hoping to continue where they left off earlier but that was
something that could wait. He really should be concentrating on other
things. He stood up and moved to the kitchen to make tea, after all it was
cold out and maybe it would soothe her a little, put her in a more
receptive mood. He heard the shower start and realized that he had a
little time. If he planned it right, maybe she would listen to him. He
lit her favorite candles around the room and turned out the lights. He had
always been more comfortable in the dark. He walked into the bedroom and
grabbed a quilt for her to wrap up in, although he held a small secret hope
that she would want to return to last night's "lesson". The thought of her
in his arms again thrilled him, distracting him a little from his original
goal. Ian looked around the room, pleased. The room looked much softer in
the candlelight, and the scent of them was making the room more intimate
somehow. It was better but something was missing. He spent a few minutes
contemplating it while he made them both tea and moved the mugs over to the
coffee table. Music, he thought, that was what it needed. He moved to her
stereo, looking through the CD's, trying to find something that would fit.
He heard Sara turn off the shower and knew he was running short of time.
He picked a likely looking one and put it in the player. The soft sounds
reassured him that he had chosen correctly, since he knew nothing of the
band, but some how the title had struck a cord, "Legend". He returned to
his place on the couch, leaning back against the arm and waited.
Sara stood under the shower, washing the crime scene dirt off of her, wondering what to say to him. She could not have him following her around all the time. He might be Mr. Shadow man, but what if he got caught, how would she explain that. She understood that he felt he had to protect her, from what the 'blade had shown her that was part of the whole thing, kind of like a package deal, but she could take care of herself. But getting angry with him wouldn't do her any good. He would just hang his head and give her that sad look. And she would end up feeling like Irons, treating him like a servant, yelling at him, dominating him. She couldn't do that, couldn't bring herself to do that, to see that look in his eyes when he looked at her. Stepping out of the shower, she dried off and tried to figure out how to talk to him about it. She put on her pajamas and went out to confront him a little calmer that before.
"OK, Nottingham, now we need to talk about this," she told him as she walked into the living room. Her eyes registered the changes and she groped slowing for words. "What.I.?"
Ian looked at her a little alarmed by her reaction. It was not what he had anticipated. "I thought it would help you relax, I wanted to do something for you. Did I do something wrong?"
"No, its just that I wasn't expecting this," she responded. She did not want to make him regret it., he was trying so hard. He looked amazing there in the candlelight, hair loose, dark eyes glowing, all the lines and planes standing out sharply in the dim glow.
"Thank you, it is very nice."
"I made tea, I thought you might need to warm up."
"I think it's getting warmer in here already," she said under her breath. Damn, how does he manage that? Her pulse had sped up and she wondered what to say to him.
"Then you don't need the blanket?" he asked, indicating the quilt he had brought into the room. Sara opened her mouth to reply, but could think of nothing that would make sense to him and not embarrass either one of them. She closed her mouth and shook her head, walking over to join him.
Ian handed her a mug and watched while she sat down on her end of the couch. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost on their own thoughts. He looked up at her from below lowered lids, wondering what to say. He wanted her to be near him, nearer than the other side of the couch certainly. Before, he had found it easier to talk to her at a distance, but now all he could think of was getting her closer to him. After years of deprivation, the feel of her was embedding itself in his soul and he wanted more.
"Sara," he said hesitantly. She looked up from her mug and met his eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to find a way to frame the request. "Would you like to." He indicated the spot on the couch in front of him. She smiled at him, proud, knowing that it had taken a lot for him to make the request. But at least he had made it. She set down the mug and moved slowly over to him, shifting to lean back against him. This time there was no hesitation, no need to tell him what to do. He reached out and put his arms around her, sighing into her hair.
Sara leaned back trying for a few moments to just relax. It had been a long day and she just wanted to rest for a minute. It was comfortable and warm up close to him. She wondered at how easy it was, despite his uncertainty; he at least had made the first move. It was a big step for him. Part of her wondered whether he was trying to distract her from the conversation that they should be having, but she could not believe that he was capable of that level of deception. Maybe this was the best way to talk to him anyway, both of them relaxed and secure. "Is this what you were looking for?" she asked him as she settled back against his warmth.
"Yes, thank you. I wanted." He stopped, at a loss for words to describe his feelings, how much he needed to be near her. Sara waited for him to continue, letting him take his time. If she tried to guess all the time he would never learn. "I wanted to be close to you," he finished, sounding lame in his own ears. For once he wished that he had Irons' eloquence, that talking to her could be easy, smooth.
"Ian, if you want to be close to me, just ask." She leaned her head back, looking up into his eyes. Here she was trying to have a conversation about him following her and she ended up snuggling with him on the couch, trying to make him more comfortable. "I know this is all new to you, but it's alright. I want us to be closer, I want you to be comfortable with me."
Ian was shocked, he had no words to tell her how much this all meant to him. He reached over and caressed her shoulder. After so long the simple feel of the cotton pajamas was so soft to the touch. The smell of her hair, the warmth of her back pressed against his body was making it hard to focus on his original plan. How was he supposed to talk to her when every instinct told him to kiss her, to hold on to this moment and not let anything interfere?
Sara sat still, enjoying the feel of his soft hand against her shoulder. She smiled to herself, he felt so good, smelled so good. Between the candles and the music she was being lulled into a strange sense of peace. The feeling was weird and wonderful, thrilling and completely unexpected. She sat there, enjoying the feel of him, letting him trail his hand over her shoulder, down her arm so gentle that she could just barely feel it. When was the last time she was this comfortable just cuddling, she wondered.
Ian was trying to get his thoughts back together, he wanted to continue, but they needed to talk. As much as he wanted to keep going, his honor would not allow him to. He slipped his hand through her hair and listened to her intake of breath. The response was gratifying but distracting, he was trying to hard to do the right thing, but his body did not want to listen to him, his hands had a mind of their own. After years of control, suddenly he was not sure that he knew what he was capable of. He drew back his hand and tried to focus. "Sara, I thought you wanted to talk," he whispered hoarsely into her hair, trying desperately to regain his perspective.
Sara laughed a little, trying to bring herself back to her senses. She turned her head toward him and started to answer when he leaned closer. Her breath caught for a moment and she let it out against his lips. He leaned forward, enjoying the sensation of her breath against his lips. Her smile was inviting and he leaned forward to take a taste. She started to close her eyes but the sight of him was too inviting, the sheer pleasure in his eyes. Somewhere in the back of her mind was the thought that they should be talking but she could not seem to break away. She parted her lips a little encouraging him to continue. There was a reverence in his kiss, his touch that made her heart beat faster, took her breath away. She moved away reluctantly, a remorseful look in her eyes. "You are right, we do need to talk," she said, regretfully.
Ian closed his eyes for a moment, trying to clear his thoughts. While he knew the conversation was important, still it was hard to move away from her sweet lips. "Perhaps we should continue this tomorrow though," he said, "it is getting late." He looked down at her, she looked comfortable in his arms. He could not believe how far they had come. The feel as she stretched against him was unbelievable, he wanted to keep her there forever.
"You've got a point. I still have to work tomorrow. But I am too comfortable to move."
"I could carry you," he offered, smiling at her.
"Yes, but.." Before she could finish the statement, Ian was off the couch, lifting her into his arms. I must be tired, she thought as she leaned into him. I am supposed to be mad at him.
Ian put her down on the bed to let her sleep. He grabbed the sweats and tee-shirt he was using to sleep in and went into the bathroom to change. When he emerged, she was fast asleep, curled up on the bed. He watched for a moment, as he made up his lonely nest on the floor next to her. That was where he belonged, beside her, not with her. It was hard for him, wanting to be so close, even while he knew that he should not. He wondered what was wrong with him. In the last few days he had made two major slips. It just was not like him. He wondered briefly if this was the reason that his father wished him to remain emotionless, could he have been right? Did his feelings for Sara make him more vulnerable? If that was so, he would have to leave her, go back to guarding her from the shadows. He could not allow her to come to harm just to satisfy his own desires, to be a part of her life. The thoughts were bleak, as if his world had just come to a complete standstill. He walked over to the window and slipped out onto the fire escape to meditate, hoping to find inspiration in the cold night..
Sara stood under the shower, washing the crime scene dirt off of her, wondering what to say to him. She could not have him following her around all the time. He might be Mr. Shadow man, but what if he got caught, how would she explain that. She understood that he felt he had to protect her, from what the 'blade had shown her that was part of the whole thing, kind of like a package deal, but she could take care of herself. But getting angry with him wouldn't do her any good. He would just hang his head and give her that sad look. And she would end up feeling like Irons, treating him like a servant, yelling at him, dominating him. She couldn't do that, couldn't bring herself to do that, to see that look in his eyes when he looked at her. Stepping out of the shower, she dried off and tried to figure out how to talk to him about it. She put on her pajamas and went out to confront him a little calmer that before.
"OK, Nottingham, now we need to talk about this," she told him as she walked into the living room. Her eyes registered the changes and she groped slowing for words. "What.I.?"
Ian looked at her a little alarmed by her reaction. It was not what he had anticipated. "I thought it would help you relax, I wanted to do something for you. Did I do something wrong?"
"No, its just that I wasn't expecting this," she responded. She did not want to make him regret it., he was trying so hard. He looked amazing there in the candlelight, hair loose, dark eyes glowing, all the lines and planes standing out sharply in the dim glow.
"Thank you, it is very nice."
"I made tea, I thought you might need to warm up."
"I think it's getting warmer in here already," she said under her breath. Damn, how does he manage that? Her pulse had sped up and she wondered what to say to him.
"Then you don't need the blanket?" he asked, indicating the quilt he had brought into the room. Sara opened her mouth to reply, but could think of nothing that would make sense to him and not embarrass either one of them. She closed her mouth and shook her head, walking over to join him.
Ian handed her a mug and watched while she sat down on her end of the couch. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost on their own thoughts. He looked up at her from below lowered lids, wondering what to say. He wanted her to be near him, nearer than the other side of the couch certainly. Before, he had found it easier to talk to her at a distance, but now all he could think of was getting her closer to him. After years of deprivation, the feel of her was embedding itself in his soul and he wanted more.
"Sara," he said hesitantly. She looked up from her mug and met his eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to find a way to frame the request. "Would you like to." He indicated the spot on the couch in front of him. She smiled at him, proud, knowing that it had taken a lot for him to make the request. But at least he had made it. She set down the mug and moved slowly over to him, shifting to lean back against him. This time there was no hesitation, no need to tell him what to do. He reached out and put his arms around her, sighing into her hair.
Sara leaned back trying for a few moments to just relax. It had been a long day and she just wanted to rest for a minute. It was comfortable and warm up close to him. She wondered at how easy it was, despite his uncertainty; he at least had made the first move. It was a big step for him. Part of her wondered whether he was trying to distract her from the conversation that they should be having, but she could not believe that he was capable of that level of deception. Maybe this was the best way to talk to him anyway, both of them relaxed and secure. "Is this what you were looking for?" she asked him as she settled back against his warmth.
"Yes, thank you. I wanted." He stopped, at a loss for words to describe his feelings, how much he needed to be near her. Sara waited for him to continue, letting him take his time. If she tried to guess all the time he would never learn. "I wanted to be close to you," he finished, sounding lame in his own ears. For once he wished that he had Irons' eloquence, that talking to her could be easy, smooth.
"Ian, if you want to be close to me, just ask." She leaned her head back, looking up into his eyes. Here she was trying to have a conversation about him following her and she ended up snuggling with him on the couch, trying to make him more comfortable. "I know this is all new to you, but it's alright. I want us to be closer, I want you to be comfortable with me."
Ian was shocked, he had no words to tell her how much this all meant to him. He reached over and caressed her shoulder. After so long the simple feel of the cotton pajamas was so soft to the touch. The smell of her hair, the warmth of her back pressed against his body was making it hard to focus on his original plan. How was he supposed to talk to her when every instinct told him to kiss her, to hold on to this moment and not let anything interfere?
Sara sat still, enjoying the feel of his soft hand against her shoulder. She smiled to herself, he felt so good, smelled so good. Between the candles and the music she was being lulled into a strange sense of peace. The feeling was weird and wonderful, thrilling and completely unexpected. She sat there, enjoying the feel of him, letting him trail his hand over her shoulder, down her arm so gentle that she could just barely feel it. When was the last time she was this comfortable just cuddling, she wondered.
Ian was trying to get his thoughts back together, he wanted to continue, but they needed to talk. As much as he wanted to keep going, his honor would not allow him to. He slipped his hand through her hair and listened to her intake of breath. The response was gratifying but distracting, he was trying to hard to do the right thing, but his body did not want to listen to him, his hands had a mind of their own. After years of control, suddenly he was not sure that he knew what he was capable of. He drew back his hand and tried to focus. "Sara, I thought you wanted to talk," he whispered hoarsely into her hair, trying desperately to regain his perspective.
Sara laughed a little, trying to bring herself back to her senses. She turned her head toward him and started to answer when he leaned closer. Her breath caught for a moment and she let it out against his lips. He leaned forward, enjoying the sensation of her breath against his lips. Her smile was inviting and he leaned forward to take a taste. She started to close her eyes but the sight of him was too inviting, the sheer pleasure in his eyes. Somewhere in the back of her mind was the thought that they should be talking but she could not seem to break away. She parted her lips a little encouraging him to continue. There was a reverence in his kiss, his touch that made her heart beat faster, took her breath away. She moved away reluctantly, a remorseful look in her eyes. "You are right, we do need to talk," she said, regretfully.
Ian closed his eyes for a moment, trying to clear his thoughts. While he knew the conversation was important, still it was hard to move away from her sweet lips. "Perhaps we should continue this tomorrow though," he said, "it is getting late." He looked down at her, she looked comfortable in his arms. He could not believe how far they had come. The feel as she stretched against him was unbelievable, he wanted to keep her there forever.
"You've got a point. I still have to work tomorrow. But I am too comfortable to move."
"I could carry you," he offered, smiling at her.
"Yes, but.." Before she could finish the statement, Ian was off the couch, lifting her into his arms. I must be tired, she thought as she leaned into him. I am supposed to be mad at him.
Ian put her down on the bed to let her sleep. He grabbed the sweats and tee-shirt he was using to sleep in and went into the bathroom to change. When he emerged, she was fast asleep, curled up on the bed. He watched for a moment, as he made up his lonely nest on the floor next to her. That was where he belonged, beside her, not with her. It was hard for him, wanting to be so close, even while he knew that he should not. He wondered what was wrong with him. In the last few days he had made two major slips. It just was not like him. He wondered briefly if this was the reason that his father wished him to remain emotionless, could he have been right? Did his feelings for Sara make him more vulnerable? If that was so, he would have to leave her, go back to guarding her from the shadows. He could not allow her to come to harm just to satisfy his own desires, to be a part of her life. The thoughts were bleak, as if his world had just come to a complete standstill. He walked over to the window and slipped out onto the fire escape to meditate, hoping to find inspiration in the cold night..