A/N: I'm sorry I took so long to update but some "WB drama" (as in the channel not the witchblade) in my life kinda got in the way. Hope you enjoy.
P.S: I made some changes to some of the witchblade mythos (Excalibur) that I hope doesn't upset anyone. Happy New Year! Cheers!
Chapter 12: Nottingham
Ian paced impatiently back and forth across a small section of the precinct parking lot. 'She said 5 minutes' he thought, looking towards the station's side door, '15 minutes ago'. He tucked a piece of wind caught hair behind his ear and silently willed himself to relax. Her difficulty with punctuality wasn't the real reason he was agitated, it was the meeting itself that had his nerves on edge, he had offered his help and she had surprisingly accepted without conflict or hesitation. Of course the fact that she was inside the station at this particular moment with her insipid partner Jake McCarty didn't help either. He was no doubt playing up his "shortcomings" in an effort to stall her. Perhaps he had given himself a paper cut, or stapled his sleeve to a case file. Maybe he had even accidentally shot himself in the foot while cleaning his gun. 'Who'd be the freak then' he thought to himself, a sly grin spreading across his face, 'I at least have all my toes.'
"What are you smiling about?" Sara asked suddenly.
She had snuck up on him while he had been lost in thought. 'Not good on the one hand…very good' he thought looking up at her, 'on the other.'
"Not bad huh?" she smiled. "You can't imagine how long I've been waiting to do that to you." She raised her left brow; "Soon I'll be catching bullets with my bare hands."
"Don't get ahead of yourself" said Ian playfully.
"Yes Sensei" replied Sara clasping her hands together and bowing slightly.
Ian grinned; it was good to see her smile again. The few days she'd been back on the job had obviously been good for her. "Shall we go?" He asked motioning to his car.
"My chariot awaits?" said Sara reaching up and re-tucking the ever-escaping tendril of hair behind his ear.
He had an urge to kiss her just then and wondered how hard she'd object. 'Don't get ahead of yourself" he thought gingerly. 'Just because she's being friendly doesn't mean she's in love with you.' He turned to open the passenger door for her and she got in. As he closed the door he noticed a strange look on her face, one he was sure he had seen before. Staring at his own reflection in the tinted windows of the SUV, he wondered what he had done to once again cause the look of disappointment in her eyes.
As he came around to his side of the car he was stopped by an elderly man with blonde curly hair. He had been sticking flyers under the windshield wipers of the cars in the lot and he held one out to Ian. "Free oil change with tune up at Luigi's Auto-Body."
Normally Ian would have ignored the gentlemen, but his thoughts were still on Sara. As he distractedly reached for the flyer the man suddenly grabbed his wrist and turned it over, his ring flashing blue light as it met the man's gaze. He whispered something that Ian could not quite hear and they were both pulled into a vision.
Ian looked about his surroundings; he was on a hilltop over looking a green valley. The old man sat on a large stone near the edge looking quietly over the land. "I'd almost thought I'd forgotten how to do this," he said with some amusement.
Ian walked over to him, immediately on the defensive. "Who are you and what is it you want from me?"
"What I want is irrelevant," said the old man, "in the larger scheme of things."
"And yet relevant enough for you to have brought me here" countered Ian.
The old man laughed. "Yes I suppose so…though perhaps we won't really know until you decide."
"Decide on what?"
"On how to use the information I pass on to you."
"So there is a lesson to be learned among your riddles."
"All of life is a lesson Ian, one only has to face the front of the class to see it."
"Fair enough" said Ian, "You have my attention."
The old man drew a straight line in the air with his finger. "All that has happened and that will happen, has been foreseen. The progression of life, its triumphs and tragedy's, the lives that touch millions, and the lives that seemingly touch none all has been predetermined. From the beginning… till the final battle, till the very start of the endgame." Ian listened quietly, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "But a void has appeared," the old man added "that cannot be seen into or past, and frankly put; it should not be there."
"And the cause of this void?" Ian asked.
The old man motioned to the valley and Ian watched as it started to disappear in a wave of fire and destruction. "A new beginning?" questioned the man grimly.
"Genesis."
"He has somehow been able to hide his ascension from those that see."
"Those that see?" asked Nottingham. "Are you one of them?"
The old man shook his head sadly. "My role is but to watch." He closed his eyes, lightly drumming his fingers on his leg. "Doomed to spend eternity on the sidelines."
Ian's voice held the emotion his face did not. "I…understand your pain."
"And I know it" said the man quietly, "…but there is still hope." Ian's ring began to glow again and he lifted his hand to look at it.
"Are you familiar with the myth of Excalibur?"
"I know of the sword of Arthur, used to slay his enemies and unite his people."
The old man nodded. "As for my ring," Ian continued, I know very little; besides the fact that it bares the same name."
"The myths are related," said the man, motioning to Ian to sit on the other rock next to him."
"When my father gave it to me, he told me it was connected to the witchblade".
The old man scoffed, surprising Ian. "It does have a connection to the blade my boy, but if Irons had truly understood it, do you honestly believe he would have given it to you?
Ian lowered his head realizing that the old man was probably right.
"Both Excalibur's were forged of the same metal and created through similar passions: lust, power and betrayal. When Arthur found his betrayal in Guenevere and Lancelot, he attempted to turn his great sword on himself. It would not let him of course and he wept bitterly. Not only for the infidelity of his one true love but for his inability to condemn her for her actions. True love can not be turned on and off like a faucet as I'm sure you have learned, even love that is unrequited."
'It was true' thought Ian, 'no matter how many times Sara rejected him, and even though his feelings for her often put him at an odds with orders from his father, he found himself unable to get her out of his system.
"As Arthur's tears glanced off the blade of the sword," the old man continued. "They were transformed…hardened. Arthur used this strange material to fashion a ring, that from that day on he seldom went without. The ring was a reminder, a symbol of the connection he had to his fair lady that nothing save maybe death could sever."
Ian looked pensively at his ring absorbing all the old man had told him.
"The ring has been passed down throughout time, and like the witchblade has had many possessors who attempted to share in the link it can create, but these are stories for another time.
"Share in the link?" asked Ian.
"The link between the wearer of Excalibur and his true love." Ian looked up at the man startled by this revelation. 'This is the base of the power of the ring Ian, the connection it has created between you and the wielder… not the witchblade. In the unlikely event that the blade were to abandon her tomorrow, the link would remain, this is the bond that Genesis fears. He hopes to corrupt her with seductions of power and destiny. To create a connection with her that will place her at his side. In her current state…I'm afraid that it may be easier to-!"
"No" said Ian, cutting him off. "She will not join him." He stood and took a few steps towards the edge of the cliff. "If what you say of Excalibur is true, then the connection the ring holds is only one way. And while I cannot profess to know the heart of the wielder, I am confident in her mind…she will stay strong."
The old man smiled behind Nottingham's back. "Fair enough." As the vision began to fade away Ian heard the man's voice echo, "But you must be strong as well Protector, strong enough to face what is coming." He suddenly found himself standing in front of his car watching a mass of blonde curly hair saunter away from him and across the parking lot. He quickly got into the car, cramming the flyer into his pocket.
"You all right?" asked Sara. "You seemed to wonder off there while you were talking to that flyer guy."
"I'm fine," replied Ian a little too tersely. "I thought I recognized him," he added quickly, not wanting her to catch on to his agitation." She looked out the window of the car not saying anything, and Ian was at a loss for words. How could he explain to her what the old man had told him without freaking her out. This was just something he would have to bear alone.
When Sara came out of the change room Ian was stretching, he stopped when he saw her stood straight, arms at his sides and gave her a little bow. She bowed back a little awkwardly not lowering her head though so she could keep her eyes on him. On the walls of the room were many different weapons, she moved closer to one and picked up a short knife. Scanning the others she sighed to herself, what did it matter, the size, the shape, they were all meant for one thing, one purpose…"To kill," she said looking down at the witchblade.
"Yes Sara", said Ian, "weapons are functioned to maim and even kill, but it's under the service of who and what that matters." The weapon is still only an extension of the man, as the witchblade is only an extension of you. You wield the blade Sara, to your own will and desire not the other way around….." He stopped suddenly, realizing he had almost crossed the line, Irons had made it very clear that he did not want Sara to know of the missing jewel inside the witchblade and the effect it may have had on the periculum.
She placed the knife back on the wall staring at it for a moment more before saying, "Alright let's do this."
They circled each other, each making calculated strikes and blocks, their speed and intensity increasing as they fought. "Keep your back straight Sara…you're using too much energy," Ian corrected. She swung a punch that came awfully close to Nottingham's face and he frowned at her, responding with a palm strike to the chest that sent her sprawling. "Anger Sara, is the only thing worse than fear in a fight, you must learn to control it.
She looked up at him, trying to catch her breath, "Or maybe you could stop pissing me off."
He smiled. "It's a little too much fun for me to give up cold turkey."
"So you're a comedian now?" she said slowly getting to her feet. She put her hip and shoulder into a straight left to Ian's stomach but he did not move. He grabbed her arm and spun her around holding her right shoulder in one hand and her chin in the other.
"Had I truly been your enemy Sara, I'd have snapped your neck just then, in tribute to your impatience."
She reached down and slid her left hand across Ian's leg towards his ass, and his grip loosened. "I don't think so," she said, gracefully knocking him to the ground with a backwards leg sweep. She squatted over him, holding her forearm over his neck. "Typical male I see," she smiled "think a women's trying to cop a feel and your legs turn to mush."
"My legs are the least of my problems right now" he mumbled.
"Nottingham…" she groaned getting off him and offering him a hand up.
"Something I said?" asked Ian, his eyes flashing with an uncharacteristic humor.
"Ya, something…though it's more that look you get in your eye."
Ian lowered his gaze. "I am sorry Sara".
"Oh God Ian, that one is even worse, you must have been able to get away with murder as a child." She stopped suddenly, realizing her slip.
"No…" Ian said, "…that came later." He gave her a wolfish smile and she laughed in spite of herself.
"It's just that sometimes when you look at me," she continued, "I can feel an expectation… of something I can't reciprocate." Ian's eyes bored intensely into hers till she broke and looked away. "Look Nottingham, I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel something, or that I didn't think all this was more than just chance." She paced the floor in front of him. "But there are so many other factors here, like me being a cop and you being…an assassin among other things I'm sure. Then there's that nut job of a father of yours, and you've got to know that your more than a little strange, which let me tell you I really don't need anymore of in my life." She sighed and closed her eyes. "What I'm trying to say Nottingham…is that there are probably a million and a half reasons why this" she motioned to the two of them "just can't happen."
"He'd registered what she'd been saying because he rarely missed anything. He could even tell that the corner panel in the window along the far wall was cracked because of the wind he could hear whistling through it. But what he concentrated on was her stance, her fists poised defiantly on her hips. The seductive way she flipped her pony tale over her shoulder and how her eyes flashed as she told him it was never gonna happen. 'To hell with it' he thought. He closed the gap between them and pulled her into his arms silencing her "besides your not even my type" with an almost savage intensity that caught her off guard. The kiss deepened as his arms enclosed around her tightly, imprisoning her against the warm hard length of his body. It was Sara's turn to have her legs turn to mush as her body went weak under his bruising hunger. Only to be cut off as he abruptly pulled away from her. "Your right" he said huskily, "this can't happen."
Sara ran her fingers over her swollen lips, as he stepped away from her. Momentarily stunned she muttered softy "Hey now, maybe I was just playing a little hard to get."
He turned his head slightly towards her, "Do not tease me…Sara."
Still reeling from Ian's kiss she struggled to think straight. "Me…tease you?" she asked.
"Can my feelings mean so little?"
She came around to the front of him, since he would not turn and look at her. "Let's not forget you're the one who started this."
"I am sorry my lady, I was…out of line."
"Oh no you don't Nottingham, don't you dare just shut down and hide behind that trained formality." She placed her hand under his chin and raised his head a bit so she could see into his eyes."
"Every man must know his place," said Ian carefully. "It is the first step in feeling self worth….. and though at times I may entertain the…notion of another…it is but an exercise in futility."
Sara's shoulders slumped, he could be quite stubborn when he wanted to be…but he was probably right, even though at this particular moment every fiber in her body screamed differently. "Maybe you could kiss me again…you know... just to make sure."
Ian smiled down at her, desperately wanting to take her up on her suggestion. "Maybe" he said, "we should move on to the techniques I actually brought you here to teach you."
"Something tells me they won't be as fun."
"They will help you Sara," said Ian earnestly. "With your focus and concentration."
"My focus and concentration are the least of my problems right now" Sara mumbled, biting her bottom lip. "Or wait…maybe they're not." She added.
Ian smiled and took her hand leading her to the center of the room where they sat cross legged in front of each other. His normally very ordered thoughts were all over the place. He had kissed her…and she had not responded with a left or right hook like he had anticipated, but rather… he was afraid to think it, to dare even hope that it might be true. Could the ever unreachable, untouchable Sara's heart be turning towards him? He thought back to what the old man had told him about Excalibur, of the connection it's awakening implied. Whatever the state of the wielders heart,' he thought 'it did not change the fact that she completely owned his.'