Authors Note: I've begun reading the comic book, (though not from the beginning) and it's a lot different from the television show. This fiction is more based on the show, though ideas from the book may pop up once in a while and other ideas from the show will be left out. Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: The witchblade etc.. belongs to TopCow etc…
Chapter 3: Enigma
"You're sure you're okay Pez?"
"Yes Jake I'm fine" Sara replied, stretching out on her couch. "Besides if I wasn't I'm sure Officer Creedy would just relish the chance to barge in here and protect me."
"Sorry about that Pez, it's just that with all the publicity over the past few days it's better to be safe then sorry right? Besides he'll keep all those pesky reporters away."
"True enough."
"I'll stop by later to check on you."
"No it's okay really, I'm just going to take a hot bath, and pop a few more of those pain killers I've come to enjoy so much, I won't really be much fun."
"You Pez, come on."
"Really Jake I'll be fine, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Okay?"
"Okay partner."
Sara hung up the phone and went into the bathroom to run her bath water. She then went into the kitchen and opened the fridge expecting to find leftover Chinese food and beer. Instead it was fully stocked. 'Damn that Nottingham' she thought 'he'd almost be sweet if he wasn't…wasn't...' She paused trying to think of the word. "If he wasn't friggin' Nottingham," she said aloud, slamming the fridge door. She stepped away from the fridge slowly. 'Still' she thought 'if he'd bought her favourite ice cream, maybe all could be forgiven'. Hesitantly she opened the freezer…
Sinking deep into the tub, her tummy fully satisfied with "candy cane crackle" her thoughts again drifted to Ian. What was it with that smug, riddle talking henchman? Why was he always popping up and watching her? What was it that him and his boss Irons really wanted with her and why wouldn't they just come out and say it? She glanced over at the witchblade sitting on a towel on top of the closed toilet seat. 'No' she thought, 'smug was not the word to describe Nottingham. In fact he seemed nervous and rather unsure of himself whenever he was around her.'
Her eyes begin to close and she felt she was about to nod off, reaching for the pills and glass of water on the floor beside the tub, she opened the container and swallowed a few. They were not the painkillers she had told Jake about, she didn't really need them anymore, she was doing a lot better… physically anyway. They were caffeine pills so that she wouldn't sleep. She didn't want to doze off and risk killing anyone else. The word "killing" rang inside her head, and she felt her eyes burn with tears. The crash had been ruled an accident but she wasn't about to argue over semantics, in her mind she had killed two people. By wandering into the street asleep, she had caused an accident that claimed two lives.
It had been happening for couple of weeks, the sleepwalking. She'd wake up in the kitchen stuffing her face, or sitting in front of the computer, typing unreadable passages. Once she found herself sitting in the shower, fully clothed and soaking wet, but could not remember how she got there. None of this compared to what happened last week though. She had actually left her apartment still asleep. She closed her eyes, trying to block it out. What was happening to her, was she losing her mind?
He was standing by the window, when she came out of the bathroom, staring out at who knows what. "Go away Nottingham" she said a little wearily.
"Good evening Sara" he answered without turning around.
"What do you want?" she asked, making her way over to her couch. "Is your boss still worried about me?"
"He is forever vigilant in his concern for you Sara, but that is not why I am here."
"Really?" she called from the couch disbelieving him. She sat up a bit and looked over in his direction "So then enlighten me Nottingham as to the oh so important reason for your presence."
He paused for a moment before answering and when he did it was almost too quiet for Sara to hear. "I have missed you… Sara."
His response caught her off guard and she sat up a little faster then she anticipated and was instantly wracked with pain. He was at her side in seconds. "It's okay Nottingham," she breathed. "I'm okay really."
"Let me see" he demanded rather then asked. She found herself acquiescing and raised her right arm obediently. He removed his left glove and raised her shirt. Her ribs were still purple and blue and he gently ran his fingers over them.
"It is not difficult to fracture bruised ribs my lady, you must be more careful".
Still reeling from the pain in her side and the unexpected rush she received at Nottingham's touch her answer came only as a whisper. "Will do." The witchblade swirled on her wrist, and she became suddenly aware of the closeness of Nottingham. She took his left hand in hers subconsciously rubbing her thumb across his palm. "Why do you always wear those gloves Nottingham?"
Temporarily seduced by her hand against his, he shook his head before answering. "They are useful…in my line of work my lady."
She leaned back on the couch still holding his hand. "And which line is that? Henchman? Assassin?…Protector of the wielder?
"All of the above lady Sara" he answered with a smile.
It was his eyes that made him beautiful she concluded. His face was handsome for sure, and the soft ringlets of blonde kissed brown hair only added to his attractiveness. But the eyes were truly beautiful, so full of the emotion he denied the rest of himself to express, except of course in unguarded moments.
"You seem tired, perhaps you should sleep".
Sara's eyes snapped open at the mention of sleep and she quickly sat up again.
"No!" she said quite forcefully. "I'm not tired". Noticing the look in Ian's eyes she added more softly "Really I could go all night". She smiled at him and his heart leapt. It was a weak smile to be sure, she was obviously exhausted, but it was genuine and therefore precious. The witchblade continued to swirl on Sara's wrist, and she felt a familiar heat on the back of her neck.
"Aren't you hot in that jacket Nottingham? She had let go of his hand and now reached for her glass of coke on the coffee table. "You can take it off if you'd like. Unless of course you need to run back and report to Irons?" She regretted it the moment she said it and of course the effect was instant. He hadn't moved and yet she could feel he had pulled away from her. "Even though it's a loft space, it does tend to get quite hot in here" she said quickly.
"Your concern for my comfort is quite touching Sara" Ian responded sadly.
"Sometimes" she said quietly "it is easier to be the me that I am, then me I would like to be." Ian understood, this was her way of apologizing and to show he had accepted it he removed his coat and sat back on the couch a short distance from her. He was clothed in black of course, as usual, but what was unusual was the extent to which she noticed. His black dress shirt fit him snugly, tight in all the right places. His collar was open, the top button undone allowing her a glimpse of the muscled chest beneath it. 'Of course it was muscled' she thought, a henchman needed to be strong. He had removed his other glove along with his jacket and she stared fascinated at his bare hands. They were manly hands of course, strong yet soft to the touch. 'Of course they'd be strong' she mused, 'an assassin may have to rely on his own strength should his weapons fail him.' She tried to remind herself of the dangers of this man, but something kept pushing them away. The heat was building on the back of her neck and was spreading from her wrist as well. 'It's you doing this to me isn't it' she thought furiously at the blade 'it has to be'. She looked up from her wrist to Ian unsure of how to break the uneasy silence that had fallen between them, but all she could think about was that soft beard of his rubbing against her neck…and chest and...stomach. Luckily for her he spoke first…
"Would you feel better lady Sara, if I joined you in the sac?"