A/N (look at me I'm abbreviating): Thanks for the reviews. This is my first fan fiction, normally I'm writing scripts (which probably explains my horrible formatting and lack of proper paragraphs) I've read a lot of the other witchblade fictions and everyone's really good. I just hope I can keep up ;p
BTW: There's a little sexual content in this chapter but it's by no means explicit. Just fair warning though since I've temporarily changed my rating.
Disclaimer: The witchblade etc.. belongs to TopCow etc…
Chapter 4: Dreaming
"What?" exclaimed Sara somewhat breathlessly.
"I said would you feel better lady Sara with another pillow behind your back?"
Sara blinked a few times and fought to regain her composure. "Oh uh sure..okay" she stammered. Nottingham pulled the pillow from beside him and leaned over her. She leaned forward a bit and he placed the pillow behind her back. A few strands of his hair fell forward from where he had tucked them behind his ear and brushed against her cheek. Instinctively she reached up and returned them to their place. He froze at the simple gesture, his face just inches above hers.
'Had he been a worldly man' he thought 'or even a braver one' he might have kissed her then. But unfortunately he was neither and the realization of that fact disgusted him. He would not have been able to handle the rejection, not from her. He returned to his seat. "Why are you not sleeping lady Sara?"
It took all her effort to concentrate on what he was saying, especially with the witchblade heating up her wrist. She pulled her shirt down over it and tried to relax. "I'm afraid" she answered truthfully.
"Afraid of what?"
She looked over at him again, wondering why he cared. Was he really interested? Or just gathering information for Irons?
"When the time comes to decide… you will know" a voice whispered. After considering this for moment… she gave in. She told him about the sleepwalking, and the missing time, about the lack of control and strange dreams. And he listened quietly and intently without saying a word. When she got to the accident she began to cry, she could not accept that she had ended two lives so needlessly. It was like a sharp pain in her chest that refused to go away. Surprising her and even himself Ian placed his arms around her as she cried. He may have missed a few lessons, but that didn't mean he was a slow learner. Observing Jake and her in the hospital room last week had shown him what to do, and there was nothing in the world more pleasant than the feel of Sara's head against his chest and her arm around his waist.
After her sobs had quieted down for a while he spoke. "You must sleep Sara…if you are to heal."
"I can't" she said quietly.
"I will not leave you my lady, you are safe"
The witchblade quieted a little as if to echo Ian's sentiment. "Maybe…" she started, "maybe just for a few minutes." Within moments she was fast asleep cradled in Nottingham's arms. And for the first time in a very long time Ian felt the restlessness that was a constant companion to his soul fade back into nothingness.
It was only a couple of hours later when he awoke. He had not even realized he had fallen asleep till he glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed the time. 'Some protector' he thought as a sudden wave of pleasure rolled over him. This is what had awoken him he realized a female hand distinctly caressing his thigh. She lay on top of him, tendrils of her hair just under his nose. They smelt of honey and almond, no doubt from the bath she had taken earlier. She shifted slightly and nuzzled her face into his neck, the pressure on his thigh increasing. He could feel her breathing quicken as her chest pressed against his, her murmurs lost in the folds of his neck.
He was still sleeping he concluded, for this was surely a dream. The real Sara would never… His thoughts were interrupted again as she shifted her hips over his and began to slowly grind against him. He stifled a moan as he closed his eyes. 'What exactly was going on here?' he wondered trying desperately to order his thoughts as she gently kissed and sucked on his neck, playfully tugging on his ear with her teeth. She sat up slowly, drawing her fingers across his chest.
"Isn't this what you wanted?" she asked, her voice low and husky with desire. 'There was something else as well' Ian thought, 'just underneath' "Isn't this what you've been dreaming about?"
He grabbed her wrist then, as he realized what it was. "No," Ian said struggling to catch his breath, "not like this…not from you"
The witchblade swirled and seemed to laugh, and Sara too laughed at Ian's response. "We are one…we are one… caiomheach" Sara said. The witchblade echoing after her.
"No" Ian said calmly and let go of her wrist, "it would appear not."
Sara seemed to sulk at his retort. She slid off his lap and retreated to her side of the couch. "Let's hope dear Nottingham, that your dreams will be enough."
"Necessity, fair lady makes even the unlikely possible."
The witchblade churned and then went silent and Sara returned to her slumber. Ian painfully detangled himself from her sleeping form, and covered her with the throw that lay over the back of the couch. She would not know of the agony she had put him through, the sheer strength of will it had taken him to push her away. 'Still' he thought, 'perhaps it had been worth it. If he had not the answers to Sara's problem he at least now knew of the right questions.'
Irons awoke covered in sweat. He had been dreaming, he surmised and it had been intense. He was a bit surprised since he hadn't dreamt in a very long time. Years ago he had studied techniques that allowed him to enter a state below consciousness as he slept, it kept the nightmares away from his contact with the witchblade. He swung himself out of bed and went over to the window. Something had not let him relax, kept him from the dreamless state…something Ian had said.
"To know the future is to be trapped by it." This had been the reason he had dreamt. He struggled to remember it but it had already begun to fade away. He was sure of one thing though, it had been about Sara.
Perhaps if the resemblance had been less than perfect he would have already achieved success. But as fate would have it Sara Pezzini was a complete recreation of Elizabeth right down to the open contempt she held for him. But he had changed Elizabeth's mind …eventually and she in turn had changed him. 'Only love can truly change a man,' he thought bitterly, 'love and hate'. She had inspired both.
"To know the future is to be trapped by it" echoed again in Kenneth's mind. He had seen his future, in his brief contact with the blade. The price he would pay for his sacrilege. This is what he was so desperately trying to prevent. He only needed to persuade it…to change it's mind-! He stopped there… surprised at his thoughts, never had he openly admitted even to himself the real reason he desired the witchblade. Power over man was simple, this he already possessed, power over fate was another thing altogether. He could not let this chance slip away, he no longer had the time to wait.