Connections
Part 5 - Past and Future Tense
Sara waited around the corner from the precinct as the black sedan drove up. Time to go, and she was still a little on edge, he could see it in her stance, like she was preparing for a fight. He gave her a reassuring smile as she grabbed her little backpack and started towards him. She got in and sat in silence as Ian turned the car expertly into traffic, heading towards home. They rode through the city, each locked in their own mind, worrying about their own fears. Ian was torn between concern and complete elation. He had succeeded where Irons, where his father had failed. He was bringing Sara home. The house, which had been so unsettling, had returned to being his home. He was no longer afraid and Sara was at least partially responsible for that. He realized that no matter what came he had someone who cared, who needed him.
Sara watched the city fly past the windows with unseeing eyes. She was trying to put up a brave front, but she was concerned. The idea of a trip to the house originally had been just spending the day, letting him do what he needed to do and with any luck bailing before the place got too much on her nerves. It had been a great idea, but that was before she had hatched this little plot to dig them both out from under two murders. She understood that it was necessary, even advantageous to have the meetings here away from everyone and everything else, but that did not stop the place from bothering her immensely. She glanced over at Ian, concentrating on the road. At least he seemed happy, or not as worried as he had been at any rate. It was his home as well as Irons, she would just have to concentrate on that and try not to dwell on past events. If he can feel at home in the house where his father died, then I guess I can manage to stay the night, she thought, resigned.
As they pulled through the gates, Ian reached out and gave Sara's hand a reassuring squeeze. He drove up to the front door and got out, grabbing the bags from the back. Sara just sat in the car, giving herself a moment until Ian opened the door and offered her his hand.
Across the street from the gates, a car waited, watching the house. As they drove in, the man in the car picked up a cell phone and dialed.
"Sir, Nottingham and Pezzini have just arrived at the Estate."
"Has Irons been spotted?"
"No Sir, not yet."
"Ok, keep me posted."
"Are you ready?" Ian asked her gently.
"Not really, but that never stopped me before."
"This time we are together, there is no conflict, no danger waiting within." He gave her arm a gentle squeeze and offered her his hand. She took it gratefully, wondering why it was suddenly seemed that he was the one comforting her instead of the other way around. She had come to help him and ended up being the one that was scared out of her mind.
Together they walked up to the front doors, which were opened from within just as they reached them. The older gentleman, who had let her into the house before, stood aside, admitting them into the front hall. An older lady stood waiting in the hall, standing by the staircase watching them.
"Good evening, Sir, it is good to have you home." There were faint traces of relief and disapproval quickly covered by the veneer of formality. He was tallish, dressed in a black suit that looked more like a uniform on him than anything else. He had a faint accent that may have been English, figures, a stereotypical English butler or whatever the guy was. She tried not to stare but the whole thing was making her a little nervous. He took their coats and the bags, Ian's duffel and Sara's little backpack.
"Good evening, is everything as I requested?" he asked in return, the distance of the words doing nothing to diminish the smile he wore. It was obvious that he was fond of these people, regardless of everything else. She had noticed toward the end of the drive that he had become more confident the closer they got. Perhaps now that the inner decision was made, he had less to worry about. He was finally ready to face this place. That was a little reassuring to her, but she still had her own daemons to face here. She tried for a polite smile, trying hard to hide her nerves.
"Sir," the woman spoke up, "the little ones have missed you terribly." Sara could hear the unspoken " and we did too," hanging in the air.
"Little ones?" she asked Ian. The woman started to say something but Ian stopped her, a wicked grin lighting his face. A plan was forming in his mind, something completely unexpected that was guaranteed to distract Sara, and maybe put her at her ease.
"I have a surprise for you, Sara," he told her.
"OK, what kind of surprise?"
"Not yet, Mrs. Hancock will show you to your room. I have a few things to take care of, I will meet you in the den." He gave a nod and the woman stepped forward.
"And the surprise?" she asked him.
"Sara," he chided gently, still smiling. "Duties first, surprise after." He turned and walked off with the gentleman.
"This way, Miss." Sara followed the lady, identified now as Mrs. Hancock, up the stairs and down the corridor. She studied her a bit, a smallish woman in a high necked dress, very proper, like something out of an English movie. She must be the housekeeper or something. She didn't think anyone actually had real staff like this anymore, leave it to Irons. She really didn't know how to treat the woman. She had never been in a house with more than an occasional day maid herself, except on cases. It made her nervous. She wondered how much they knew about her and Irons, how Ian had explained her presence here.
"Mrs. Hancock?" she asked finally. "How long have you been here?"
"I have been with the household 30 years, Miss." Something in her tone told Sara she should not ask any more questions, not yet. She was being polite, but it was clear that Sara had not yet passed muster.
Mrs. Hancock did not know what to make of this woman. She had heard the name mentioned in the house before, Sara Pezzini, now Detective Pezzini, but who she was, that was never mentioned, at least not within hearing of the staff. She had never understood the connection, none of them had. Just that she was important to both Mr. Irons and to Ian. But she had brought Ian back home, back to them, alive and happier than she thought she had seen him since he was a boy. He had actually smiled in the hall, something Mr. Irons would have found very distressing, and he had not been a man to distress. Ian had changed while he was away, was still changing and Miss Pezzini was part of that.
They stopped in front of a door, identical to the others on the hall and Mrs. Hancock opened it to reveal a large bedroom. "This will be your room, Miss," she told her.
Sara looked a little stunned. She had always accepted the fact that Irons had more money than god but what that meant in practical terms was occasionally a shock. The house, the staff and now this room, she had never really been anywhere in the house but the den so she really had not known what to expect.
"It's.It's beautiful," she said finally, at a loss for what to say. The room was large and airy, decorated in dark, heavy wooden antiques and white. The walls were half paneled with white wall paper above, white bed linen, white rugs on the wooden floor, even a white and blue Chinese vase on the table by the wall.
"Thank you, Miss. Mr. Nottingham will be pleased. He thought you would prefer a lighter room." And one which Mr. Irons did not use for guests often, she added to herself although that particular instruction had struck her as odd, she did not question it. She had been so pleased that he was coming back she would have done anything. "When you have freshened up, take the corridor right to the end of the hall and down the stairs, you will be outside the den." She gave her directions and started to leave, but turned back at the last moment. "Oh, Miss?"
"Yes?" Sara asked.
"Thank you,"
"For what?" she responded.
"For bringing him back, " she said, leaving hurriedly, afraid she had said too much. It had never been a good idea to say too much in this house.
Sara stared after her retreating figure, wishing she had a good way to question her. It was obvious that the staff had some of the same concerns she had about Ian's intentions. But what did they know about her and Irons? She filed the thought away for later and looked around. Oh, well, might as well get cleaned up and see what it was that Nottingham had planned for her. What kind of surprise could he possibly have for her anyway?
Part 5 - Past and Future Tense
Sara waited around the corner from the precinct as the black sedan drove up. Time to go, and she was still a little on edge, he could see it in her stance, like she was preparing for a fight. He gave her a reassuring smile as she grabbed her little backpack and started towards him. She got in and sat in silence as Ian turned the car expertly into traffic, heading towards home. They rode through the city, each locked in their own mind, worrying about their own fears. Ian was torn between concern and complete elation. He had succeeded where Irons, where his father had failed. He was bringing Sara home. The house, which had been so unsettling, had returned to being his home. He was no longer afraid and Sara was at least partially responsible for that. He realized that no matter what came he had someone who cared, who needed him.
Sara watched the city fly past the windows with unseeing eyes. She was trying to put up a brave front, but she was concerned. The idea of a trip to the house originally had been just spending the day, letting him do what he needed to do and with any luck bailing before the place got too much on her nerves. It had been a great idea, but that was before she had hatched this little plot to dig them both out from under two murders. She understood that it was necessary, even advantageous to have the meetings here away from everyone and everything else, but that did not stop the place from bothering her immensely. She glanced over at Ian, concentrating on the road. At least he seemed happy, or not as worried as he had been at any rate. It was his home as well as Irons, she would just have to concentrate on that and try not to dwell on past events. If he can feel at home in the house where his father died, then I guess I can manage to stay the night, she thought, resigned.
As they pulled through the gates, Ian reached out and gave Sara's hand a reassuring squeeze. He drove up to the front door and got out, grabbing the bags from the back. Sara just sat in the car, giving herself a moment until Ian opened the door and offered her his hand.
Across the street from the gates, a car waited, watching the house. As they drove in, the man in the car picked up a cell phone and dialed.
"Sir, Nottingham and Pezzini have just arrived at the Estate."
"Has Irons been spotted?"
"No Sir, not yet."
"Ok, keep me posted."
"Are you ready?" Ian asked her gently.
"Not really, but that never stopped me before."
"This time we are together, there is no conflict, no danger waiting within." He gave her arm a gentle squeeze and offered her his hand. She took it gratefully, wondering why it was suddenly seemed that he was the one comforting her instead of the other way around. She had come to help him and ended up being the one that was scared out of her mind.
Together they walked up to the front doors, which were opened from within just as they reached them. The older gentleman, who had let her into the house before, stood aside, admitting them into the front hall. An older lady stood waiting in the hall, standing by the staircase watching them.
"Good evening, Sir, it is good to have you home." There were faint traces of relief and disapproval quickly covered by the veneer of formality. He was tallish, dressed in a black suit that looked more like a uniform on him than anything else. He had a faint accent that may have been English, figures, a stereotypical English butler or whatever the guy was. She tried not to stare but the whole thing was making her a little nervous. He took their coats and the bags, Ian's duffel and Sara's little backpack.
"Good evening, is everything as I requested?" he asked in return, the distance of the words doing nothing to diminish the smile he wore. It was obvious that he was fond of these people, regardless of everything else. She had noticed toward the end of the drive that he had become more confident the closer they got. Perhaps now that the inner decision was made, he had less to worry about. He was finally ready to face this place. That was a little reassuring to her, but she still had her own daemons to face here. She tried for a polite smile, trying hard to hide her nerves.
"Sir," the woman spoke up, "the little ones have missed you terribly." Sara could hear the unspoken " and we did too," hanging in the air.
"Little ones?" she asked Ian. The woman started to say something but Ian stopped her, a wicked grin lighting his face. A plan was forming in his mind, something completely unexpected that was guaranteed to distract Sara, and maybe put her at her ease.
"I have a surprise for you, Sara," he told her.
"OK, what kind of surprise?"
"Not yet, Mrs. Hancock will show you to your room. I have a few things to take care of, I will meet you in the den." He gave a nod and the woman stepped forward.
"And the surprise?" she asked him.
"Sara," he chided gently, still smiling. "Duties first, surprise after." He turned and walked off with the gentleman.
"This way, Miss." Sara followed the lady, identified now as Mrs. Hancock, up the stairs and down the corridor. She studied her a bit, a smallish woman in a high necked dress, very proper, like something out of an English movie. She must be the housekeeper or something. She didn't think anyone actually had real staff like this anymore, leave it to Irons. She really didn't know how to treat the woman. She had never been in a house with more than an occasional day maid herself, except on cases. It made her nervous. She wondered how much they knew about her and Irons, how Ian had explained her presence here.
"Mrs. Hancock?" she asked finally. "How long have you been here?"
"I have been with the household 30 years, Miss." Something in her tone told Sara she should not ask any more questions, not yet. She was being polite, but it was clear that Sara had not yet passed muster.
Mrs. Hancock did not know what to make of this woman. She had heard the name mentioned in the house before, Sara Pezzini, now Detective Pezzini, but who she was, that was never mentioned, at least not within hearing of the staff. She had never understood the connection, none of them had. Just that she was important to both Mr. Irons and to Ian. But she had brought Ian back home, back to them, alive and happier than she thought she had seen him since he was a boy. He had actually smiled in the hall, something Mr. Irons would have found very distressing, and he had not been a man to distress. Ian had changed while he was away, was still changing and Miss Pezzini was part of that.
They stopped in front of a door, identical to the others on the hall and Mrs. Hancock opened it to reveal a large bedroom. "This will be your room, Miss," she told her.
Sara looked a little stunned. She had always accepted the fact that Irons had more money than god but what that meant in practical terms was occasionally a shock. The house, the staff and now this room, she had never really been anywhere in the house but the den so she really had not known what to expect.
"It's.It's beautiful," she said finally, at a loss for what to say. The room was large and airy, decorated in dark, heavy wooden antiques and white. The walls were half paneled with white wall paper above, white bed linen, white rugs on the wooden floor, even a white and blue Chinese vase on the table by the wall.
"Thank you, Miss. Mr. Nottingham will be pleased. He thought you would prefer a lighter room." And one which Mr. Irons did not use for guests often, she added to herself although that particular instruction had struck her as odd, she did not question it. She had been so pleased that he was coming back she would have done anything. "When you have freshened up, take the corridor right to the end of the hall and down the stairs, you will be outside the den." She gave her directions and started to leave, but turned back at the last moment. "Oh, Miss?"
"Yes?" Sara asked.
"Thank you,"
"For what?" she responded.
"For bringing him back, " she said, leaving hurriedly, afraid she had said too much. It had never been a good idea to say too much in this house.
Sara stared after her retreating figure, wishing she had a good way to question her. It was obvious that the staff had some of the same concerns she had about Ian's intentions. But what did they know about her and Irons? She filed the thought away for later and looked around. Oh, well, might as well get cleaned up and see what it was that Nottingham had planned for her. What kind of surprise could he possibly have for her anyway?