Hm...chocolate? Heh. Thanks Redmayne. And Sierra, much chocolate to you for
not writing a crass e-mail. Much thanks to everyone who reviewed,
especially Redmayne, Sierra Windfire, Eli, Julia, DKM, Riyallyn, and
rougegal17.
Disclaimer: It is not mine. It's not. I promise I'm making no money off this. Except maybe off a bet with my friends that I can fit this many odd things into a Witchblade fic. All rights go to Top Cow. I've given up on TnT...
A/N: One that note...anyone have odd things they wish to see in the story? Some one has asked me to fit lederhosen into this story, but I'm not sure how I'm going to manage that one...
Feedback: Reviews = more chapters. Give chocolate. The more hyper I am, the later I stay awake. The later I stay awake, the more I write. The more I write, the more likely I am to make this fiction odder and quirkier. Hehe. Thanks much.
And now, to the feature presentation...
**************************************************************************** ************ Chapter VI **************************************************************************** *************
Sara walked into the morgue, Ian following shortly behind.
"Vicki?"
There was no reply, and Sara immediately began to get a bad feeling about the silence. Ian too was silent, and she knew he was thinking the very same thing. Actually...she knew exactly what he was thinking...whatever the witchblade was up to, this seemed totally random. There is something wrong here...it smells like rancid meat. But what is that other smell...it's her, Sara felt him shift closer to her. She smells like flowers and vanilla...wait...it is near...
A creature ambled into view that made Sara recoil. Ever seen "Night of the Living Dead?" Yeah...well, forget what those buggers looked like. This creature made those zombies look like friggin' Shirley Temple. (All depends on your opinion of Shirley temple, I suppose...)
"Oh...please, twitchy, please tell me you didn't," Sara beseeched the glowing stone. The laughter was slightly more maniacal this time. Maybe she shouldn't have teased it as much as she had...
"Lady Sara, do you suppose bullets will work?" Ian asked calmly.
"I don't know Nottingham, what have you got?"
"I believe that list will take more time than we currently have."
"Then go with your gut instinct."
Ian pulled a glock from under his trench coat, and emptied round into the un-dead creature. It had no effect whatsoever, except the creature became more enraged. Ian considered his options for a millisecond before pulling a knife from his concealed arsenal and chucking it at the zombie. It hit the creature square in the forehead, and it fell backwards, hopefully...well...more dead than undead.
"How did you know to do that?"
"Irons may have been a tyrant, but he did teach me some important life skills."
"I don't know if that qualifies as a life skill..."
"You're still breathing; aren't you?"
Sara glared at the smiling assassin, and walked farther into the morgue, Ian following behind like a shadow. In fact, if she could not feel the occasional sweep of his trench coat against her, she would in fact mistake him for a shadow in her peripheral vision.
~Can you truly see, wielder? You see, but you are blind...~
Sara paused, listening to the voice. It emanated from the Witchblade, but it was not the voice she was accustomed to. Instead of being multiple feminine whispers, it was one, strong voice of a man. But the whispers were there too, and they warned her...
Sara put her hand on Ian's arm, feeling the presence nearby, and nodded towards a cluttered area of Vicki's office.
"Nottingham, to your left, behind the cart. Whatever it is, it isn't pretty,"
She touched me again...wait...left...now to the right, up now...
Nottingham pushed Sara back and lunged to his right side, stopping the assailant's arm from coming down on her head. He kept the creature at arms length before reaching over and snapping its neck. He walked calmly back over to Sara an inquired if she was all right.
"Nottingham...how did you..."
His features froze, and he made direct eye contact with Sara; then ducked down. The Witchblade was already formed on Sara's wrist, and she plunged it into the torso of the undead creature. It stared at her in confusion, and collapsed to the ground once the blade retracted. Nottingham looked up at her from the floor below, resting his arms on his knees as he squatted down. There was a gleam in his eye as he smiled, his face unreadable.
"What are you looking at?"
"That would be telling,"
Sara sighed. "You confuse me, Nottingham."
"Sara? Is that you?" a muffled voice called.
"Vicki? Where are you?"
"I believe her voice is coming from that wall," said Ian, pointing over to the wall lined with the built in freezers for bodies.
"It's getting reeeaaaally cold in here, Pez,"
Sara dashed over to the wall and began opening the compartments. Ian started on the other end and the third one he opened revealed the quite- living body of Vicki Poe.
"Hello Dr. Poe,"
Ian held out his hand and helped Vicki down from the sliding bed, then shut the door behind her.
"Hello." Vicki paused, "Sara's friend, I presume?"
"Yes, Ian Nottingham, at your service, Dr. Poe,"
My god...he's gorgeous,
Sara narrowed her eyes upon hearing her friend's though. She suddenly felt very territorial.
Vicki looked away from Ian and to Sara, with some misgiving.
"Hey Sara...there are some pretty strange things going on."
"Yeah. I've noticed." Sara looked around the morgue, "How many of those things were there?"
"Just the two," Vicki said, "One was the body I already autopsied...I have no clue how I'm going to explain the reports now..."
"What? 'Came-back-to-life-and-had-to-be-killed,----again' isn't acceptable?"
"Funny. Very funny," Poe walked back over to her desk, "Do you think there could be more? Maybe one got out of the freezer, or the bodies already in the other cold storage.
"I don't know. I guess Nottingham and I could stay here for a while to make sure there aren't any more. I don't really want to go back upstairs anyway."
Sara watched Ian as he wandered throughout the morgue, either just casually looking around, or scouting out for danger.
"So, Sara, what's his story?" Vicki asked quietly, "Are you two..."
"No," Sara replied, perhaps to hastily, "We're just friends."
"Then maybe you could put in a good word for me..."
"I don't think he's your type," Sara said, "Anyway, I think you've caught the attention of a certain blond rookie."
"McCarty? Really?"
"Yup,"
"Hm. So you're sure there isn't anything going on between you and the knight in shining armor over there?"
"I'm sure," Sara replied, slightly taken aback by Vicki's comparison. But in doing so, she was forced to think about it...and suddenly she wasn't so sure...
~*~
"Ah, hello, Protector,"
Ian blinked, suddenly aware of new surroundings. He had been in the morgue of the precinct, and in a flash of red light he was here. Darkness all around, lit only by the swirling fog. Up above was a moon, running red like the jewel of the Witchblade. In fact...it looked exactly like the jewel of the Witchblade.
"Welcome to the limbo of the Witchblade," a male voice called out.
"How is it that I come to be here? I thought it was impossible for men to enter into this realm..."
"Never impossible, young Ian. But today it has become far easier. And the way your wielder is going, it my just be an open house all week."
A man dressed in a black robe, lined with silver, stepped out of the fog. He looked much alike to Ian, but not identical. They could easily pass for fraternal brothers, however.
"I have no true form, but I have taken a liking to you, Ian. So modest, and unappreciated, like I was for a while. You are a very attractive man in their world, you know. Once you realize that, you may get somewhere with that love of your life."
Ian merely shrugged, unable to think of anything else to say in response.
"Do you know who I am?"
"I am assuming that you are Loki, god of mischief, mayhem, and miscommunication,"
"Ah yes, the three M's." Loki sighed, "I don't have much of a point as a God, once you think about it. Except to cause trouble for all the others. Oh well."
"Why have you brought me here?"
"All in good time, Ian, all in good time. We have much to discuss, much trouble to cause."
"I believe enough trouble has been caused." Ian stated, "You could have gotten the Wielder killed."
"Ah, but she did not get injured. You protected her, did you not?"
"I did,"
"That is your job. But..." Loki stopped pacing and turned to look at Ian, "...did she even thank you for that?"
"No. She is not obligated to."
"What happened to common courtesy? Next thing you'll tell me is that chivalry is dead,'
"Loki..." Ian was beginning to become slightly annoyed with this apparition's babbling.
"Well, I suppose I could lay off the violent aspect, but that takes so much of the fun out of it, Ian."
"I'm sure you can find ways to amuse yourself that do not involve getting Lady Sara hit by large Semi trucks."
"That was only because she tried to escape from the Witchblade. Her essence and I did not take kindly to that,"
"Why do you insist on putting her through this?"
"Because you need to learn to lighten up. All of you. As a species on the whole, you are uptight, humorless pricks. I thought you would appreciate this more, Ian. Everyone treats you like dirt. You father beats you, esteemed 'Lady' despises you. That's even worse that the physical beatings, isn't it?"
"She does not despise me." Ian said firmly.
"But she does not return your affection."
"Lady Sara is..."
"Is? Is? Is what, Ian? Out of reach for you, the unobtainable jem? Or perhaps you place her so far up on a pedestal in your mind that you are unable to reach her in the real world. 'You know, so many Protectors realize their destiny to be with the Wielder, to love...you have realized this...but she hasn't. Very insensitive of her, if you ask me." Loki paused, pacing around. The fog moved about his feet as he did so, his cape engulfing the light.
"Perhaps we should show her what she's missing. I know she feels it somewhere deep inside her, but just refuses to admit it. And Irons didn't help much in that area. You're practically a monk, and she thinks you're practically his slave."
Loki paused again, reconsidering his words, "Well, you're not his slave, but bound to him through duty, blah, deblah, deblah. But you're even more so bound to Sara. The Blade has been trying to get you to notice that, but nooooo, you wouldn't listen."
"Dammit, what are you trying to say?!" shouted Ian, surprised by his own reaction.
"Oo, have I hit a nerve? Awfully sorry," Loki stopped pacing and leaned in, placing a hand on Ian's shoulder, "This may cause some embarrassment for you and your Lady throughout the next week, or whenever the hell I decide to end my reign...but I'm sure it's for the best, dear Ian. Maybe these guys will give you some pointers."
Loki reached over and slapped a band onto Ian's wrist. It was made of metal, and had interweaving Celtic designs on it, possibly something from the Book of Kells. Ian looked from the band to Loki in confusion.
"Have a fun ride. Take two and see me in the morning,"
**************************************************************************** ************
A/N: ::Stops frolicking around::
Hope you liked. I haven't begged pathetically for reviews this chapter. I think *I* should get some chocolate. And gummi worms. And...and...sunflowers seeds and that blue *frost* Gatorade. Hehehe
I shall right more as soon as I can...I have an über project assigned for over spring break. Unfortunately, that takes precedence over this story. ::cries:: I shall return as soon as I can. ::grabs her notebook and literary books, and hikes into the great unknown of English class::
Disclaimer: It is not mine. It's not. I promise I'm making no money off this. Except maybe off a bet with my friends that I can fit this many odd things into a Witchblade fic. All rights go to Top Cow. I've given up on TnT...
A/N: One that note...anyone have odd things they wish to see in the story? Some one has asked me to fit lederhosen into this story, but I'm not sure how I'm going to manage that one...
Feedback: Reviews = more chapters. Give chocolate. The more hyper I am, the later I stay awake. The later I stay awake, the more I write. The more I write, the more likely I am to make this fiction odder and quirkier. Hehe. Thanks much.
And now, to the feature presentation...
**************************************************************************** ************ Chapter VI **************************************************************************** *************
Sara walked into the morgue, Ian following shortly behind.
"Vicki?"
There was no reply, and Sara immediately began to get a bad feeling about the silence. Ian too was silent, and she knew he was thinking the very same thing. Actually...she knew exactly what he was thinking...whatever the witchblade was up to, this seemed totally random. There is something wrong here...it smells like rancid meat. But what is that other smell...it's her, Sara felt him shift closer to her. She smells like flowers and vanilla...wait...it is near...
A creature ambled into view that made Sara recoil. Ever seen "Night of the Living Dead?" Yeah...well, forget what those buggers looked like. This creature made those zombies look like friggin' Shirley Temple. (All depends on your opinion of Shirley temple, I suppose...)
"Oh...please, twitchy, please tell me you didn't," Sara beseeched the glowing stone. The laughter was slightly more maniacal this time. Maybe she shouldn't have teased it as much as she had...
"Lady Sara, do you suppose bullets will work?" Ian asked calmly.
"I don't know Nottingham, what have you got?"
"I believe that list will take more time than we currently have."
"Then go with your gut instinct."
Ian pulled a glock from under his trench coat, and emptied round into the un-dead creature. It had no effect whatsoever, except the creature became more enraged. Ian considered his options for a millisecond before pulling a knife from his concealed arsenal and chucking it at the zombie. It hit the creature square in the forehead, and it fell backwards, hopefully...well...more dead than undead.
"How did you know to do that?"
"Irons may have been a tyrant, but he did teach me some important life skills."
"I don't know if that qualifies as a life skill..."
"You're still breathing; aren't you?"
Sara glared at the smiling assassin, and walked farther into the morgue, Ian following behind like a shadow. In fact, if she could not feel the occasional sweep of his trench coat against her, she would in fact mistake him for a shadow in her peripheral vision.
~Can you truly see, wielder? You see, but you are blind...~
Sara paused, listening to the voice. It emanated from the Witchblade, but it was not the voice she was accustomed to. Instead of being multiple feminine whispers, it was one, strong voice of a man. But the whispers were there too, and they warned her...
Sara put her hand on Ian's arm, feeling the presence nearby, and nodded towards a cluttered area of Vicki's office.
"Nottingham, to your left, behind the cart. Whatever it is, it isn't pretty,"
She touched me again...wait...left...now to the right, up now...
Nottingham pushed Sara back and lunged to his right side, stopping the assailant's arm from coming down on her head. He kept the creature at arms length before reaching over and snapping its neck. He walked calmly back over to Sara an inquired if she was all right.
"Nottingham...how did you..."
His features froze, and he made direct eye contact with Sara; then ducked down. The Witchblade was already formed on Sara's wrist, and she plunged it into the torso of the undead creature. It stared at her in confusion, and collapsed to the ground once the blade retracted. Nottingham looked up at her from the floor below, resting his arms on his knees as he squatted down. There was a gleam in his eye as he smiled, his face unreadable.
"What are you looking at?"
"That would be telling,"
Sara sighed. "You confuse me, Nottingham."
"Sara? Is that you?" a muffled voice called.
"Vicki? Where are you?"
"I believe her voice is coming from that wall," said Ian, pointing over to the wall lined with the built in freezers for bodies.
"It's getting reeeaaaally cold in here, Pez,"
Sara dashed over to the wall and began opening the compartments. Ian started on the other end and the third one he opened revealed the quite- living body of Vicki Poe.
"Hello Dr. Poe,"
Ian held out his hand and helped Vicki down from the sliding bed, then shut the door behind her.
"Hello." Vicki paused, "Sara's friend, I presume?"
"Yes, Ian Nottingham, at your service, Dr. Poe,"
My god...he's gorgeous,
Sara narrowed her eyes upon hearing her friend's though. She suddenly felt very territorial.
Vicki looked away from Ian and to Sara, with some misgiving.
"Hey Sara...there are some pretty strange things going on."
"Yeah. I've noticed." Sara looked around the morgue, "How many of those things were there?"
"Just the two," Vicki said, "One was the body I already autopsied...I have no clue how I'm going to explain the reports now..."
"What? 'Came-back-to-life-and-had-to-be-killed,----again' isn't acceptable?"
"Funny. Very funny," Poe walked back over to her desk, "Do you think there could be more? Maybe one got out of the freezer, or the bodies already in the other cold storage.
"I don't know. I guess Nottingham and I could stay here for a while to make sure there aren't any more. I don't really want to go back upstairs anyway."
Sara watched Ian as he wandered throughout the morgue, either just casually looking around, or scouting out for danger.
"So, Sara, what's his story?" Vicki asked quietly, "Are you two..."
"No," Sara replied, perhaps to hastily, "We're just friends."
"Then maybe you could put in a good word for me..."
"I don't think he's your type," Sara said, "Anyway, I think you've caught the attention of a certain blond rookie."
"McCarty? Really?"
"Yup,"
"Hm. So you're sure there isn't anything going on between you and the knight in shining armor over there?"
"I'm sure," Sara replied, slightly taken aback by Vicki's comparison. But in doing so, she was forced to think about it...and suddenly she wasn't so sure...
~*~
"Ah, hello, Protector,"
Ian blinked, suddenly aware of new surroundings. He had been in the morgue of the precinct, and in a flash of red light he was here. Darkness all around, lit only by the swirling fog. Up above was a moon, running red like the jewel of the Witchblade. In fact...it looked exactly like the jewel of the Witchblade.
"Welcome to the limbo of the Witchblade," a male voice called out.
"How is it that I come to be here? I thought it was impossible for men to enter into this realm..."
"Never impossible, young Ian. But today it has become far easier. And the way your wielder is going, it my just be an open house all week."
A man dressed in a black robe, lined with silver, stepped out of the fog. He looked much alike to Ian, but not identical. They could easily pass for fraternal brothers, however.
"I have no true form, but I have taken a liking to you, Ian. So modest, and unappreciated, like I was for a while. You are a very attractive man in their world, you know. Once you realize that, you may get somewhere with that love of your life."
Ian merely shrugged, unable to think of anything else to say in response.
"Do you know who I am?"
"I am assuming that you are Loki, god of mischief, mayhem, and miscommunication,"
"Ah yes, the three M's." Loki sighed, "I don't have much of a point as a God, once you think about it. Except to cause trouble for all the others. Oh well."
"Why have you brought me here?"
"All in good time, Ian, all in good time. We have much to discuss, much trouble to cause."
"I believe enough trouble has been caused." Ian stated, "You could have gotten the Wielder killed."
"Ah, but she did not get injured. You protected her, did you not?"
"I did,"
"That is your job. But..." Loki stopped pacing and turned to look at Ian, "...did she even thank you for that?"
"No. She is not obligated to."
"What happened to common courtesy? Next thing you'll tell me is that chivalry is dead,'
"Loki..." Ian was beginning to become slightly annoyed with this apparition's babbling.
"Well, I suppose I could lay off the violent aspect, but that takes so much of the fun out of it, Ian."
"I'm sure you can find ways to amuse yourself that do not involve getting Lady Sara hit by large Semi trucks."
"That was only because she tried to escape from the Witchblade. Her essence and I did not take kindly to that,"
"Why do you insist on putting her through this?"
"Because you need to learn to lighten up. All of you. As a species on the whole, you are uptight, humorless pricks. I thought you would appreciate this more, Ian. Everyone treats you like dirt. You father beats you, esteemed 'Lady' despises you. That's even worse that the physical beatings, isn't it?"
"She does not despise me." Ian said firmly.
"But she does not return your affection."
"Lady Sara is..."
"Is? Is? Is what, Ian? Out of reach for you, the unobtainable jem? Or perhaps you place her so far up on a pedestal in your mind that you are unable to reach her in the real world. 'You know, so many Protectors realize their destiny to be with the Wielder, to love...you have realized this...but she hasn't. Very insensitive of her, if you ask me." Loki paused, pacing around. The fog moved about his feet as he did so, his cape engulfing the light.
"Perhaps we should show her what she's missing. I know she feels it somewhere deep inside her, but just refuses to admit it. And Irons didn't help much in that area. You're practically a monk, and she thinks you're practically his slave."
Loki paused again, reconsidering his words, "Well, you're not his slave, but bound to him through duty, blah, deblah, deblah. But you're even more so bound to Sara. The Blade has been trying to get you to notice that, but nooooo, you wouldn't listen."
"Dammit, what are you trying to say?!" shouted Ian, surprised by his own reaction.
"Oo, have I hit a nerve? Awfully sorry," Loki stopped pacing and leaned in, placing a hand on Ian's shoulder, "This may cause some embarrassment for you and your Lady throughout the next week, or whenever the hell I decide to end my reign...but I'm sure it's for the best, dear Ian. Maybe these guys will give you some pointers."
Loki reached over and slapped a band onto Ian's wrist. It was made of metal, and had interweaving Celtic designs on it, possibly something from the Book of Kells. Ian looked from the band to Loki in confusion.
"Have a fun ride. Take two and see me in the morning,"
**************************************************************************** ************
A/N: ::Stops frolicking around::
Hope you liked. I haven't begged pathetically for reviews this chapter. I think *I* should get some chocolate. And gummi worms. And...and...sunflowers seeds and that blue *frost* Gatorade. Hehehe
I shall right more as soon as I can...I have an über project assigned for over spring break. Unfortunately, that takes precedence over this story. ::cries:: I shall return as soon as I can. ::grabs her notebook and literary books, and hikes into the great unknown of English class::
