Sara and Ian left the Siri house with full stomachs, a backseat full of
leftovers and promises from all concerned to have dinner again soon. Anna
insisted on a hug from Ian, and it was clear to everyone that the little
girl had charmed her way into Ian's heart with no effort at all. As they
drove away in the dying light of the day, Sara leaned over and gave Ian a
kiss.
"What was that for?" he asked, a little surprised and pleased by her affection.
"For surviving, for volunteering to put yourself through all that to make me happy."
"I would do anything to make you happy," he told her.
"Yes, but I know how hard it was for you. Irons did not strike me as the family dinner type," she said lightly.
"Actually we had dinners, not like yours though. It was just the two of us; a family dinner was my father and I sitting in the library, discussing things, the business, the Witchblade. Unlike the Siri's, it was always very quiet. When I went away to school, the hardest thing for me to get used to was all the noise. When I came back home, it was the quiet that kept me awake, waiting for something, anything to happen." The sadness was back, but in the midst of it all was a smile for the happiness he had seen. He wished he had a way to explain to her how much it meant to him, to know that she had these people, that when her family was gone, there were people to be there for her as she was for him. One day he would explain to her about the past, about the times he had watched, the pictures that had been taken of her. Now she was there for him, in a way he had never been allowed to be for her. They drove on in silence for a time, remembering the past, and thinking of the new memories to be made in the future.
When they arrived at her building, Ian let her out with the food. Marie had given them enough leftovers to feed a small army, with a comment about Sara's tendency to avoid cooking and the need to keep him properly fed. They had all laughed, but Ian and Sara accepted the food as well. When he returned from parking the car, Sara was already putting the food away in the glass fronted industrial refrigerator. He hung up his coat and removed his gloves before joining her in the kitchen, taking his place at the table to watch her. He still enjoyed watching her do everyday tasks, even as his mind wandered to all the new things he hoped they could do together. Sara finished and turned around with a sigh.
"Tired, my love?" he asked.
"Yeah, too much good food, I am always ready for a nap after dinner with them." She took his hand and they moved into the living room. Ian pulled off his sweater and folded it neatly over the back of the chair. "You are amazing, you know that?" Sara told him as she settled down on the couch, making a space for him beside her.
"How so?" he asked, looking at her a little confused.
"You managed the meeting without a problem when I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out, got through dinner and the interrogation with Joe and Marie, and still manage to remember to be so tidy. I can't remember to pick up my socks most days." There was a sudden stab, just a moment of uncertainty, blind panic as it swept through Sara's tired brain. What were they doing? How on earth could the two of them put together their very different lives and hope to have it work? Then she looked at him, moving towards her, pulling the tie out of his hair because he knew it pleased her. You and I ... are alike, more than any two on this earth. When he had said those words to her, she had thought he was nuts. Who knows, considering all they had been through maybe they both were. Looking at him now, she knew he had been right. In spite of their differences, they were very much alike, and that made all the difference.
Ian laughed as he sat down on the couch and braced himself in the corner. Somehow without words they seemed to have reached a mutual agreement, a comfortable place to be together. He reached out to pull her into his arms, swinging his feet up so she was resting on top of him. The suddenness of the move brought a smile to her face. He had come so far in such a short time, as if he wanted to make up for the years of isolation all at once. Now that he had a taste for physical contact between them, he could not seem to get enough. "Are you sure this isn't uncomfortable?" she asked as she tried to settle in without stabbing him with an elbow or anything else. "I can move, you know, we could."
"Are you comfortable?" he asked her, adjusting his position a little to allow him to stretch out as well as he was able without dislodging her.
"Well, yes, but.."
"Then so am I. Sara, I want you close," he said softly, his eyes shining. How could she possibly resist? She nodded to him and relaxed. She did have to admit, he made a hell of a pillow.
Ian shifted a little, making sure that Sara was secure against him, reassuring himself that the position allowed him to move her quickly to safety if necessary, calculating a few moves designed in case of attack to put him between her and any possible danger, all while enjoying the feel of her against him. "There, better?" he asked, as he wrapped his arms a little closer around her, one hand settling under the back edge of her shirt to enjoy the silky skin beneath.
"Ummm, nice," was the only comment she made as she snuggled in, pulling the throw over them. Slowly as the light faded from the sky, he watched her breath even, her eyes droop. The still of the room, the silence was comforting; the only sound was the ticking of the clock, and the soft sigh of her breath against him. He could feel the beat of her heart and his as they matched rhythms, joining together until he could not distinguish one from the other. Ian let himself relax and drifted off to sleep, completely content with his world.
When Sara woke, the room was in complete darkness, the insistent pressure in her bladder telling her that her nap had been longer than she had planned. Ian was asleep, warm and comfortable underneath her, holding her tightly, his soft, even breathing ruffling her hair. He was so peaceful, so comfortable; she did not really want to wake him but could not see a way around it. Slowly she tried to slip from beneath his arm, but he stirred and tightened his grip.
"Ian, I need to get up. I need to go to the bathroom," she whispered urgently. She tugged a little and he released her, waking up just enough to register her words as she slipped away. He opened his eyes for a brief moment and watched as she slipped into the bathroom, only falling back to sleep when he heard the bathroom door close behind her, reassured that she was safe and not leaving the apartment.
Once alone in the bathroom, Sara realized exactly how grubby she felt. While the nap had been great, suddenly she felt the need for a shower, something to clear away the cobwebs. No, not a shower, a bath. It had been a while since she used the big old-fashioned bathtub. Ian was still asleep and she could take a little time. Besides she did not want to return to him looking and feeling like something that any well respecting cat would refuse to drag in. She turned on the hot water and started to undress, tossing aside the crumpled clothes and adding a handful of bath salts left over from a birthday gift that Vicki had given her. As the steam rose, she slipped into the tub, lowering her body into water so hot it was almost painful and letting all the tension of the day melt away as she lost herself in thought.
Ian woke alone in the dark living room, wondering where Sara was. He remembered vaguely that she had risen at some point to go to the bathroom, but he realized that she had not returned, but it did not feel as if anything were wrong. Rising from the couch, he went to the bathroom and knocked hesitantly on the door. "Sara?" he called, listening carefully for the sound of her voice.
Sara rolled over in the bathtub, unsure whether she had heard anything. She waited, completely awake now, listening. "Sara, are you all right?" Ian's voice called through the closed door, barely discernable through the thick wood. The water relaxed her and the thought of him out there sent her mind along some interesting directions.
"I'm fine. Why don't you come in here? I can't hear you through the door." Ian heard the invitation, but he paused. It was not as if he had not seen her undressed before, had not memorized every inch of her body, but still he hesitated. The thought of her in the bath led him to other thoughts, the pleasure of her slick body against his. He opened the door and stepped into the bathroom slowly, the bright light a stark contrast to the darkness of the room behind him. Slipping through the door, he walked in, his gaze transfixed on the sight of her, reclining there in the blue water. She was gazing up at him, her arms crossed under her chin, on her lying stomach; water drops beading on her bare back.
Sara gave him a lazy smile, watching him. "You were not there when I woke up," he said. "I was concerned." The look in his dark eyes showed something else entirely though. She shivered a little at the intensity in his eyes. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you look?" he asked, his voice husky with emotion. She felt a wave of emotion flowing from him, goose bumps rising on her skin.
"Um, you could join me?" she suggested.
"I am not." he started, just a touch unsure in the stark light of the bare room.
"Scared?" she teased with a hint of challenge in her voice. A sudden idea struck him along with the need to answer her dare.
"Not at all," he said, with a wicked grin. He turned, disappearing into the other room, leaving her staring after him, confused. She started to rise, but he was back in a moment, his arm full of candles. He placed them around the room, being careful to make sure they were on flat surfaces. Slowly he lit them, turning off the overhead light, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow. The gentle light made him a bit more comfortable. It was much easier to hide things by candlelight, and at the same time made the room more intimate, less stark and utilitarian. "Are you planning on staring?" he asked a little self consciously, as she watched him unbutton his shirt.
"Would you like me to turn my back?" she asked a little sarcastically. He raised an eyebrow at her as he finished disrobing and approached the tub.
"What was that for?" he asked, a little surprised and pleased by her affection.
"For surviving, for volunteering to put yourself through all that to make me happy."
"I would do anything to make you happy," he told her.
"Yes, but I know how hard it was for you. Irons did not strike me as the family dinner type," she said lightly.
"Actually we had dinners, not like yours though. It was just the two of us; a family dinner was my father and I sitting in the library, discussing things, the business, the Witchblade. Unlike the Siri's, it was always very quiet. When I went away to school, the hardest thing for me to get used to was all the noise. When I came back home, it was the quiet that kept me awake, waiting for something, anything to happen." The sadness was back, but in the midst of it all was a smile for the happiness he had seen. He wished he had a way to explain to her how much it meant to him, to know that she had these people, that when her family was gone, there were people to be there for her as she was for him. One day he would explain to her about the past, about the times he had watched, the pictures that had been taken of her. Now she was there for him, in a way he had never been allowed to be for her. They drove on in silence for a time, remembering the past, and thinking of the new memories to be made in the future.
When they arrived at her building, Ian let her out with the food. Marie had given them enough leftovers to feed a small army, with a comment about Sara's tendency to avoid cooking and the need to keep him properly fed. They had all laughed, but Ian and Sara accepted the food as well. When he returned from parking the car, Sara was already putting the food away in the glass fronted industrial refrigerator. He hung up his coat and removed his gloves before joining her in the kitchen, taking his place at the table to watch her. He still enjoyed watching her do everyday tasks, even as his mind wandered to all the new things he hoped they could do together. Sara finished and turned around with a sigh.
"Tired, my love?" he asked.
"Yeah, too much good food, I am always ready for a nap after dinner with them." She took his hand and they moved into the living room. Ian pulled off his sweater and folded it neatly over the back of the chair. "You are amazing, you know that?" Sara told him as she settled down on the couch, making a space for him beside her.
"How so?" he asked, looking at her a little confused.
"You managed the meeting without a problem when I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out, got through dinner and the interrogation with Joe and Marie, and still manage to remember to be so tidy. I can't remember to pick up my socks most days." There was a sudden stab, just a moment of uncertainty, blind panic as it swept through Sara's tired brain. What were they doing? How on earth could the two of them put together their very different lives and hope to have it work? Then she looked at him, moving towards her, pulling the tie out of his hair because he knew it pleased her. You and I ... are alike, more than any two on this earth. When he had said those words to her, she had thought he was nuts. Who knows, considering all they had been through maybe they both were. Looking at him now, she knew he had been right. In spite of their differences, they were very much alike, and that made all the difference.
Ian laughed as he sat down on the couch and braced himself in the corner. Somehow without words they seemed to have reached a mutual agreement, a comfortable place to be together. He reached out to pull her into his arms, swinging his feet up so she was resting on top of him. The suddenness of the move brought a smile to her face. He had come so far in such a short time, as if he wanted to make up for the years of isolation all at once. Now that he had a taste for physical contact between them, he could not seem to get enough. "Are you sure this isn't uncomfortable?" she asked as she tried to settle in without stabbing him with an elbow or anything else. "I can move, you know, we could."
"Are you comfortable?" he asked her, adjusting his position a little to allow him to stretch out as well as he was able without dislodging her.
"Well, yes, but.."
"Then so am I. Sara, I want you close," he said softly, his eyes shining. How could she possibly resist? She nodded to him and relaxed. She did have to admit, he made a hell of a pillow.
Ian shifted a little, making sure that Sara was secure against him, reassuring himself that the position allowed him to move her quickly to safety if necessary, calculating a few moves designed in case of attack to put him between her and any possible danger, all while enjoying the feel of her against him. "There, better?" he asked, as he wrapped his arms a little closer around her, one hand settling under the back edge of her shirt to enjoy the silky skin beneath.
"Ummm, nice," was the only comment she made as she snuggled in, pulling the throw over them. Slowly as the light faded from the sky, he watched her breath even, her eyes droop. The still of the room, the silence was comforting; the only sound was the ticking of the clock, and the soft sigh of her breath against him. He could feel the beat of her heart and his as they matched rhythms, joining together until he could not distinguish one from the other. Ian let himself relax and drifted off to sleep, completely content with his world.
When Sara woke, the room was in complete darkness, the insistent pressure in her bladder telling her that her nap had been longer than she had planned. Ian was asleep, warm and comfortable underneath her, holding her tightly, his soft, even breathing ruffling her hair. He was so peaceful, so comfortable; she did not really want to wake him but could not see a way around it. Slowly she tried to slip from beneath his arm, but he stirred and tightened his grip.
"Ian, I need to get up. I need to go to the bathroom," she whispered urgently. She tugged a little and he released her, waking up just enough to register her words as she slipped away. He opened his eyes for a brief moment and watched as she slipped into the bathroom, only falling back to sleep when he heard the bathroom door close behind her, reassured that she was safe and not leaving the apartment.
Once alone in the bathroom, Sara realized exactly how grubby she felt. While the nap had been great, suddenly she felt the need for a shower, something to clear away the cobwebs. No, not a shower, a bath. It had been a while since she used the big old-fashioned bathtub. Ian was still asleep and she could take a little time. Besides she did not want to return to him looking and feeling like something that any well respecting cat would refuse to drag in. She turned on the hot water and started to undress, tossing aside the crumpled clothes and adding a handful of bath salts left over from a birthday gift that Vicki had given her. As the steam rose, she slipped into the tub, lowering her body into water so hot it was almost painful and letting all the tension of the day melt away as she lost herself in thought.
Ian woke alone in the dark living room, wondering where Sara was. He remembered vaguely that she had risen at some point to go to the bathroom, but he realized that she had not returned, but it did not feel as if anything were wrong. Rising from the couch, he went to the bathroom and knocked hesitantly on the door. "Sara?" he called, listening carefully for the sound of her voice.
Sara rolled over in the bathtub, unsure whether she had heard anything. She waited, completely awake now, listening. "Sara, are you all right?" Ian's voice called through the closed door, barely discernable through the thick wood. The water relaxed her and the thought of him out there sent her mind along some interesting directions.
"I'm fine. Why don't you come in here? I can't hear you through the door." Ian heard the invitation, but he paused. It was not as if he had not seen her undressed before, had not memorized every inch of her body, but still he hesitated. The thought of her in the bath led him to other thoughts, the pleasure of her slick body against his. He opened the door and stepped into the bathroom slowly, the bright light a stark contrast to the darkness of the room behind him. Slipping through the door, he walked in, his gaze transfixed on the sight of her, reclining there in the blue water. She was gazing up at him, her arms crossed under her chin, on her lying stomach; water drops beading on her bare back.
Sara gave him a lazy smile, watching him. "You were not there when I woke up," he said. "I was concerned." The look in his dark eyes showed something else entirely though. She shivered a little at the intensity in his eyes. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you look?" he asked, his voice husky with emotion. She felt a wave of emotion flowing from him, goose bumps rising on her skin.
"Um, you could join me?" she suggested.
"I am not." he started, just a touch unsure in the stark light of the bare room.
"Scared?" she teased with a hint of challenge in her voice. A sudden idea struck him along with the need to answer her dare.
"Not at all," he said, with a wicked grin. He turned, disappearing into the other room, leaving her staring after him, confused. She started to rise, but he was back in a moment, his arm full of candles. He placed them around the room, being careful to make sure they were on flat surfaces. Slowly he lit them, turning off the overhead light, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow. The gentle light made him a bit more comfortable. It was much easier to hide things by candlelight, and at the same time made the room more intimate, less stark and utilitarian. "Are you planning on staring?" he asked a little self consciously, as she watched him unbutton his shirt.
"Would you like me to turn my back?" she asked a little sarcastically. He raised an eyebrow at her as he finished disrobing and approached the tub.