A/N:  Thank you to everyone who keeps posting reviews (like thelma)  as long as I know even one person is reading, I'll keep writing (and hopefully keep getting better). Yes that was a Dune reference in the last chapter, I see a few similarities between Ian and the Ghola (who incidentally was my favourite character), some which will be explored in later chapters.

Chapter 11:  Sara

            Sara watched herself walk out of her building and down the street towards the intersection.  She was close enough to see what was happening, but too far away to catch up, to grab the "other" Sara and shake her into consciousness, to stop what she knew was coming.  She'd been having this dream every night since the accident, and staying awake didn't help.  It would just come as a waking vision while she was in the tub, or staring into her cup of coffee.  She'd feel the rain beating down against her, hear the squeal of tires and see a flash of headlights; but she always came out of it just before the crash, her throat hoarse from screaming as she desperately tried to wake herself up-!  But something was different this time, there something she hadn't noticed before.  Perhaps because she'd usually been too concerned with willing her legs to move faster or because she always closed her eyes in the end so that she wouldn't have to watch.  She stared across the street at her doppelganger and realized that she did not stumble blindly into the road, that she looked purposefully up and down the street watching for cars, looking for the precise moment to step off the curb and into the intersection.

            "And now you see" said a voice from behind her.

            Sara whirled around, as fast as the dream would allow her to.  The man from the church stood there quite still, his hands buried beneath his flowing robes.  Removing his hood and allowing the rain to pour off of his shaven head he frowned a little at her,  "But do you yet understand?"

            Sara stepped back from him, unsure of how to react to this intrusion into her private nightmare.  "Understand what?" she asked.

            He pointed towards the intersection.  "That this… was no accident."

            She turned to look, and as if on command the "other " Sara stepped into the street.  The truck coming towards her honked and braked, swerving into oncoming traffic, it's trailer turning sideways and slamming into the vehicle coming in the opposite direction.  Dream Sara was hit and thrown into the air as another car tried to avoid hitting the cab of the truck which had rolled over and was preceding down the street, the unconscious driver still strapped inside.  Sara felt the blow to her ribs as she watched herself roll to the edge of the curb.  She fell to her knees, almost delirious with pain.

            The stranger knelt beside her and spoke softly into her ear.  "Look past the pain Wielder…what is it you see there?  What is it you feel?"  Sara closed her eyes, trying to block out the pain, block out his words, wishing she would just wake up.  "Do not be afraid Sara, there is no shame in truth."

            She gasped as she acknowledged it, the emotion below her agony, the raw hunger and lust that boiled beneath the sharp pain in her chest and side.  She opened her eyes and stared at her reflection in the puddle beneath her.  The witchblade was active and had encompassed her arm and shoulder, the red jewel over her hand glowing fiercely.  The blade continued spreading across her neck and chest, whispering quietly to her as it grew.  "We are one…we are one."

            The stranger refitted his hood to his head and stood and turned away from her, "To deny your destiny Sara, is to deny yourself."

            Sara felt, rather than saw him walk away from her, he exited her dream as effortlessly as he had entered it.  She awoke moments later, still at the sleep clinic, noticing that only minutes had passed since she had last looked at the clock.  Silent tears leaked from her eyes and spilled onto her pillow as the words of the witchblade still echoed in her mind.  "We are one…Sara…we are one."

            It was raining again, after only two days of reprieve.  It was cold enough that it should have been snowing, but instead it poured, showing no sign it planned to let up.  Sara stood alone away from the service, not wanting to disturb the attendees or upset anybody anymore than they already were.  The man had been in his late 50's and divorced with no children so the turnout was small, but Sara could tell by the faces of his friends and family that he would be missed.   Perhaps if he'd been hated, or horribly mean…maybe if he'd prowled chat rooms for little girls and always stole his neighbour's newspaper…maybe then it wouldn't have hurt so much, maybe then she might have been able to let go of some of her guilt.  But maybe not. Was death a fitting punishment for any earthly evils?  Who stepped in and got to decide?  If such a thing as fate existed, then this man who had seemingly done nothing wrong to anybody, who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, had actually been slated to die by her hand…and for what cause?

            "For youuu…for you." 

            The rain seemed to let up a little, and she lifted her shades to see that it was due to an large black umbrella being held over her.  "Good afternoon Sara" said Nottingham.  Even though it was raining he too wore dark sunglasses, hiding whatever emotion lay unguarded in his eyes.

            "I don't suppose you will anyway" she muttered not turning around.

            "Will what?" He asked, unsure of her meaning.  She turned to face him, and he suddenly realized what she meant.  They said it together, "Go away Nottingham."  He smirked and she smiled slightly, but it was a tired smile that did not reach what he could see of her eyes.  He took off her sunglasses and frowned.  "You are still not sleeping...lady Sara."

            She turned her head back towards the funeral.  "Ya well, I passed all my psych tests so it doesn't really matter does it?"

            "It matters to me."

            She turned back to him, and gave him a sarcastic smile.  "Oh it does, does it?  And why is that?"

            He seemed hurt by her question.  "Because you matter to me."

            "Oh give it up Ian" she said quietly, turning away from him again.  "We both know your real motivations."

            Nottingham paused briefly before saying, "Much has developed…since last we spoke."

            "Agreed" she sighed.  She watched a woman kneel beside the man's grave, crying as she spoke, her words lost on the wind between the grave and where Sara stood. She closed her eyes.  "Do you ever wish for a different life Nottingham?  Not richer or more glamorous, not even necessarily easier…just different?"

            "My faith in fate does not allow for such wishes Sara."   She lowered her head and nodded.  "But there are times," he continued "when I do entertain the notion."

            "And?" she asked softly.

            Nottingham's voice lowered till it was only a whisper.  "The only other life I would wish for Sara…would be one where I stood at your side instead of behind you."

            She turned to face him but his head was bowed.  She removed his shades wincing at the bruise around his eye.  After staring at him for several moments, she handed his glasses back to him.  "But we are stuck with the lives we are living aren't we?" she said.  "And all the wishing in the world won't change that fact."

            "Destiny…."

            "To deny your destiny Sara…"

            "Is to deny myself?" she said cutting him off. Nottingham looked at her curiously, and she started to explain.  "He has been coming to me nightly, since the church.  He calls himself Genesis and he too speaks of my destiny."  She pointed at the funeral across the graveyard.  "This, he tells me, is my destiny, and that I…can't escape it."

            "Pain…"

            Tears began to well up in her eyes.  "I'm not strong enough to fight him Nottingham, I can't…I can't keep him out of my head.  She held up her wrist with the witchblade.  "And this is not helping.

            Nottingham put the finger of his free hand in his mouth biting down on the leather so he could pull off his glove.  He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over the top of it, much as she had done with his palm, what seemed like ages ago.  "That is but one path the wielder may take, one of an infinite number of possibilities.  But the path is not the destiny Sara just as the journey is not the destination.  Believe in yourself…as I do, and it will all work out in the end."

            Weak as she felt, she was willing to believe anything he said, if he told her she would be okay, she would cling to that like a life preserver in an endless sea.  Not long ago she would have rebuffed his words of encouragement and seen them as just and ends to a means.  But not today, today she desperately needed the support.  She reached up and hugged him suddenly, and he stiffened a bit in surprise.  "I'm sorry I hit you" she said into his chest, and then stepped back from him again.

            "I would never refuse a caress from my lady" Ian grinned.  "Even one disguised as a right hook."

            "Ya whatever Nottingham" Sara said smiling.  And for a moment it seemed that she might hug him again but then she suddenly turned and walked away from him as if she were late for another appointment.