What About The Waffles?!

**DISCLAIMER** I do not own Witchblade, nor do I claim to. None of the characters belong to me. They are all property of the Warner Bros. network and Top Cow, with the exception of Elri, who belongs to, well, Elri. So please, don't sue me for having a little fun!

Author's Note: I realized when trying to write this chapter that I had absolutely no concept of where this fic was going or what its point was. I merely wrote the first chapter at four a.m. because it wouldn't leave me alone. Therefore, if you find anything that doesn't make sense, do point it out – since I had nothing planned for this fic, I'm sorta flyin' by the seat of my pants here, so to speak.

Author's Note 2: Again, blame the Plot Bunnies.

"Time to make the waffles!"

Ignoring the startled look from the girl in front of him, Gabriel Bowman stood up, came around the counter, and strode out the front door of his shop. The young woman stared quizzically after him, frozen in the middle of reaching for a sword that hung on the wall.

She blinked, and was halfway to the door to see where he'd gone when he reappeared. He gave her a wide, blank smile, and then returned to his place behind the desk. "Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked genially.

"Uh…" Thoroughly confused, the girl couldn't do anything but stare. "I don't think so," she managed finally. "Just… uh… browsing."

"Enjoy," Gabriel said seriously. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I'll do that," she said slowly, still looking at him as though she wondered if he were mentally unstable. She left shortly afterward – without buying anything.

When she'd disappeared, Gabriel returned to the back room where he'd been working on the videotape, but paused when he heard someone come through the front door.

"Gabriel?"

Recognizing Sara's voice, Gabriel hurried out again. "Hey!" he said, greeting her with a smile.

She cut straight to the point. "Find anything new on the tape?"

"Not much." He ushered her into the back room, flipping on the lights as he went – he knew he was accustomed to much darker lighting than most people. He found her a chair and pulled his own up in front of the computer screen. "I zoomed in on this bit," he indicated the smudge on the screen, "and tried sharpening the focus, but as you can see it didn't do much good." Now, instead of looking like a light blur, it had become… a white shape. "It's angled," he said mournfully, "so if it's even got a recognizable form, we won't be able to tell."

"Can't you stick it in one of those graphics programs and rotate it or something to see what it could be?"

Gabriel shook his head. "It's a good idea, but it doesn't work that way. Unless the original shape was created within the program, it wouldn't be able to show it. It can't create things on its own; it can only use parameters I've given it. I could stick the form in and give it some suggestions," he said thoughtfully, "but it'd give me half a dozen different possibilities, and we'd have no guarantee that any of them would be right."

Sara sighed. "Well, do it anyway," she told him. "It's the only lead we've got right now."

He nodded as she stood up, and then winced. "What do you feed your pants to make them so shiny?"

"Excuse me?!" Sara stared at him.

He half-opened one eye and looked at her sideways. "Your pants," he said, gesturing.

She glanced down, and realized that the light from the window was reflecting off her pleather pants and hitting him full in the face. "Oh! Oops," she said apologetically, and stepped sideways out of the light.

"Thanks," Gabriel laughed. He blinked for a moment or two to clear his sight, and then stood up. "You probably have to get back to work," he said, and she nodded. "I won't keep you then. I'll do some more work on this and bring it by the precinct later tonight."

"Thanks, kiddo." Sara let him walk her to the door of the shop, and then gave him a slap on the back. "See you in a couple hours then?"

Gabriel's smile suddenly seemed vacant. "Time to make the waffles," he said, and shut the door.

Sara found herself staring at the little placard that said "TALISMANIAC.COM" and thinking that she definitely didn't want to know.