~*~
After she had finally trekked up the last flight of stairs Sara had peeled off her soaked clothes, donned her cotton robe, and made a pot coffee before heading back into the bathroom. Sara decided she had deserved a nice long soak in a warm bath. She picked up the uniquely shaped bottle filled with azure colored crystals. She read the label on the bottle 'Relax'. She snorted at the appropriate title. Well it was definitely what she needed. After blending the bath salts into the steaming water, Sara removed her robe and slowly lowered herself in the tub. Sighing as the bath began to help her relieve her tense muscles and for the time being giving her peace of mind. Sara positioned herself against the tub, her head tilted back, and her arms resting along the edge to the tub.
The rhythmic sounds of rain coming from outside and the aroma rising from the bath salts had lulled Sara into a light nap. There on her right wrist was the Witchblade. Ever since the Periculum Sara never bothered taking it off. Not that it would any way. As Sara slept the stone began to glow an angry red. Sara stirred in her sleep obviously being propelled into another vision.
She watched as the black limo pulled up in front of the mansion. Ian had gotten out but didn't bother to protect himself from the cold rain. He walked around the limo and held the door open for Irons. The asshole had the audacity to stay in the car longer just to spite Ian's uncomfortable situation. Irons began to speak but it was as if the mute button had been turned on. All she could do was watch everything unfold before her. For a brief moment she had seen Ian's distress. Sara could feel the blade heat up on her arm. She looked down at the dormant bracelet. When she looked back up Ian's concern was gone. The two soon disappeared into the mansion.
Wet, cold, and shivering Ian stood in the middle of the great room. Waiting for Irons of course. The succession of violence seemed never-ending to Sara. She watched as time and time again Irons striking Ian. Still she was unable to decipher what was being said. She winced with every blow. Finally the onslaught of Ian's punishments ended. With a blink of an eye she was in a room. She was in a bathroom, more specifically in Ian's. The sound of the shower turning off pulled her out of her assessment of the room. Sara had not time to react. The glass door of the shower stall was yanked aside and before her stood the magnificent naked form of Ian Nottingham.
Though she knew it was wrong to stare at the man but she couldn't help it. She'd expected the man to be in shape but damn! He was a solid mass of sinew muscles, not one ounce of fat was visible. He stood with all his glory in front of Sara, his body glistening from the shower. She watched as drops of water began to roll down his body. She then swallowed as she followed the faint line of hair that started from the bottom of his navel. Traveling lower and lower to the large, grandeur of flesh she never thought she would see in this lifetime.
Sara stared agape at the magnificent form of Ian Nottingham. 'My God is this what was hidden under all those layers of clothes?' Sara wondered to herself. As if to answer her the blade heated up on her arm. Briefly she glanced down at the blade. "I don't know if I should be angry or grateful with you for bringing me here." She whispered to the bracelet. She turned back to watch Ian dry himself off. The heat from the blade was no match to the fiery sensation that started to travel from the very core of her being and out through her entire body.
But the fire was soon doused seeing him wincing from pain. Bruises could be seen forming over his abs, one on the right side of his ribcage and another on his face. The anger she felt while in the elevator was back. She snapped her eyes shut and shook her head. It was because of her he was being punished. "Damn it Nottingham why don't you fight back!" Sara yelled out. She opened her eyes only to find herself back in the apartment and in her tub. Sara didn't know how long she was under the Witchblade's spell but the water had turned cold and she immediately got out. "Don't know what the hell you're doing but that was not cool." The blade hissed back and returned to a quiet bracelet. Quickly she donned her gray, cotton pajama pants and a black sleeveless shirt. Sara padded bare foot into her kitchen and decided to order Chinese take out for dinner. Thirty minutes later her dinner arrived. Though her stomach growled she wasn't too sure she had much of an appetite. But her appetite was not for food. The image of Ian naked was still there in her mind.
~*~
The dark shadow had positioned himself on the rooftop of the building across Sara's apartment. His irritation was evident in his movements. Shifting from one foot to another, accompanied by an exasperated growl. Cursing away at the pelting rain. There was little shelter he could use to protect himself from the cold rain. Though he had not been there long he could feel the water soaking through his coat and hood. For the past ten minutes he had watched Sara lazy move about her loft. Oblivious that she was being watched. He wanted to move closer to get a better look of Sara. But even from this distance he could see her. She was exactly how he imagined her.
".Do not make any attempt of any interaction with her."
His earlier conversation with his master replayed in his mind.
In the distance he had hear Irons and Dr. Immo discussing his state of readiness.
"What are you afraid of? You said he was even better than his predecessor." Irons sat in his wooden throne like chair. Staring up at the good Dr. Immo. He could see the concern looks in the doctor's eyes.
"Physically speaking. Psychologically, we have no idea what he is. I have grave concerns about his aggression levels." Immo knew it was useless to make any attempts of reasoning with Irons. But he still tried; it was true this new version was nowhere near his predecessor. He remembered staring into the empty voids of his eyes. Nothing, there was no soul to be found. And he knew that if Irons were not careful he would lose all control of this one.
"Ian, do come down"
Irons got up from his chair and both men stood before the great hearth and looked up onto the balcony of the library level. The dark shadow appeared before the railing and stared down at the two men.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen." He gracefully floated down the stairs and stopped before both men.
Though the doctor had been monitoring this version for quite some time now he still could not overcome the striking resemblance to the current Ian Nottingham. This one had his hair pulled tightly back into a club. His face cleanly shaven aside from the small tuft of hair below his lower lip. But that was as far as the likeness had gone.
As a man of science he was ecstatic to be witnessing the impossible stand before him. Here stood a scientific find, a clone of Ian Nottingham. But this one lacked something that the original Nottingham possessed. The thought brought Dr. Immo back to his earlier concerns. Irons grinned with obvious satisfaction with his new acquired servant.
Aside from the keen appearance of his predecessor this clone held no resemblance of the acquiescence of Ian Nottingham. This one stood before Irons with his head held high and his hands clasped behind his back. The clone boldly stared back at Iron, never wavering eye contact. With the obvious satisfaction showing on his master's face, the clone returned the gesture by flashing an arrogant grin. In his eyes reflected what Immo was afraid of. Pent up aggression accompanied by overconfidence.
Immo cleared his throat catching both men's attention. The clone gave the doctor a malevolent stare. He had overheard the doctor's concerns to his master. Obviously the good doctor thought it was unwise to activate him. Clearly stating that this successor of the current Ian Nottingham was not good enough psychologically. But physically speaking he far exceeded his predecessor. The sound of Immo's voice broke through his thoughts.
"How are you feeling today, Ian?" Immo questioned, staying as far as he could.
"Restless" A simple word that summed up what he had been feeling since he had been awake.
Immo began to walk around the clone. Carefully keeping his distance as he made a physical assessment.
"Do you remember how you spent your day?" Immo asked.
"No, sir. I think I've been asleep awhile" The clone began to sway slightly on his feet. He was indeed restless.
"What do you remember?" Irons spoke up as he watched Ian.
"My primary mission is to protect you." Irons nodded. Pleased at hearing the reverence in his voice. The clone continued with less feeling, less respect.
".Following that, I protect Sara Pezzini, the wielder of the Witchblade." The clone's voice was void of any feelings. Unlike the show of reverence that of Ian Nottingham have when speaking about his 'Lady' and the Witchblade. This one had a distaste and lack of respect when it came to the both.
"Do you know what she looks like?" Irons questioned.
The clone closed his eyes. Though he had never seen the wielder in person the image of her was in his mind. His smile broadens and he opened his eyes.
"Exactly"
"What else do you know?" Irons continued his inquiry.
"That there is another before me. That my immediate predecessor is defective in his emotional make-up. He's soft. This deficiency will cost him his usefulness, and thus his life. I share some of his memories. I know I only exist because you allow it." He looked at Irons and smiled. He knew his master and was ready to serve him beyond all means possible.
Irons grinned. Satisfied in the knowledge that this one is entirely loyal to him and only him. Irons was not worried that his one would succumb to Sara's unique charms like Ian. Irons moved in closer and spoke again.
"If the time ever arose, do you think you can retrieve Sara Pezzini?"
"Oh, I feel capable of anything." The clone reassured Irons.
"Do you have the appropriate tools?" Irons asked.
The clone brought his hands up and looked at them. Then with a menacing expression he turned to stare at Dr. Immo. Remembering hearing the doctor's comment about his superior physical skills and his growing aggression. Immo took an involuntary step back, afraid at what he had seen and the implication of it.
The clone shifted uncomfortably under the rain. Water was slowly trickling down the back of his neck. He snorted as he continued his surveillance over Sara. Unfortunately his master did not order him to retrieve the wielder. He could hear the conversation in his mind.
"For now I want you to keep an eye on the wielder. Do not make any attempt of any interaction with her."
"What of my predecessor?" He had been so anxious to confront Ian. Wanted to unleash is aggression and punish him for betraying their master.
"I warn you Ian do not confront your predecessor. I only want you to watch. Watch over them both but do not reveal yourself. Record everything they do. Then return home before your predecessor does. Report to me of everything you see and hear. Is that understood?" Irons towered over the clone and bore his icy blue eyes into hazel ones. The clone did not waver from the threat but simply accepted his order from his master.
"Yes I understand, master." The clone spoke out aloud into the rainy night. He continued to watch the wielder move about in her apartment. Her dinner had finally arrived; she sat at her table and began to spoon the contents from the box.
'I am capable of anything. So why does he just want me to watch.' He was beginning to get bored until he spotted his predecessor. His predecessor had hidden himself well into the shadows, in an ally across Sara's building. He just stood there in the rain looking up to the window of the wielder.
"What a pathetic site. His weakness will be his down fall." He sneered as he thought out loud. The clone kept a watchful eye between his so-called predecessor and the wielder. He looked down at his hands. 'Soon very soon.'
~*~
After she had finally trekked up the last flight of stairs Sara had peeled off her soaked clothes, donned her cotton robe, and made a pot coffee before heading back into the bathroom. Sara decided she had deserved a nice long soak in a warm bath. She picked up the uniquely shaped bottle filled with azure colored crystals. She read the label on the bottle 'Relax'. She snorted at the appropriate title. Well it was definitely what she needed. After blending the bath salts into the steaming water, Sara removed her robe and slowly lowered herself in the tub. Sighing as the bath began to help her relieve her tense muscles and for the time being giving her peace of mind. Sara positioned herself against the tub, her head tilted back, and her arms resting along the edge to the tub.
The rhythmic sounds of rain coming from outside and the aroma rising from the bath salts had lulled Sara into a light nap. There on her right wrist was the Witchblade. Ever since the Periculum Sara never bothered taking it off. Not that it would any way. As Sara slept the stone began to glow an angry red. Sara stirred in her sleep obviously being propelled into another vision.
She watched as the black limo pulled up in front of the mansion. Ian had gotten out but didn't bother to protect himself from the cold rain. He walked around the limo and held the door open for Irons. The asshole had the audacity to stay in the car longer just to spite Ian's uncomfortable situation. Irons began to speak but it was as if the mute button had been turned on. All she could do was watch everything unfold before her. For a brief moment she had seen Ian's distress. Sara could feel the blade heat up on her arm. She looked down at the dormant bracelet. When she looked back up Ian's concern was gone. The two soon disappeared into the mansion.
Wet, cold, and shivering Ian stood in the middle of the great room. Waiting for Irons of course. The succession of violence seemed never-ending to Sara. She watched as time and time again Irons striking Ian. Still she was unable to decipher what was being said. She winced with every blow. Finally the onslaught of Ian's punishments ended. With a blink of an eye she was in a room. She was in a bathroom, more specifically in Ian's. The sound of the shower turning off pulled her out of her assessment of the room. Sara had not time to react. The glass door of the shower stall was yanked aside and before her stood the magnificent naked form of Ian Nottingham.
Though she knew it was wrong to stare at the man but she couldn't help it. She'd expected the man to be in shape but damn! He was a solid mass of sinew muscles, not one ounce of fat was visible. He stood with all his glory in front of Sara, his body glistening from the shower. She watched as drops of water began to roll down his body. She then swallowed as she followed the faint line of hair that started from the bottom of his navel. Traveling lower and lower to the large, grandeur of flesh she never thought she would see in this lifetime.
Sara stared agape at the magnificent form of Ian Nottingham. 'My God is this what was hidden under all those layers of clothes?' Sara wondered to herself. As if to answer her the blade heated up on her arm. Briefly she glanced down at the blade. "I don't know if I should be angry or grateful with you for bringing me here." She whispered to the bracelet. She turned back to watch Ian dry himself off. The heat from the blade was no match to the fiery sensation that started to travel from the very core of her being and out through her entire body.
But the fire was soon doused seeing him wincing from pain. Bruises could be seen forming over his abs, one on the right side of his ribcage and another on his face. The anger she felt while in the elevator was back. She snapped her eyes shut and shook her head. It was because of her he was being punished. "Damn it Nottingham why don't you fight back!" Sara yelled out. She opened her eyes only to find herself back in the apartment and in her tub. Sara didn't know how long she was under the Witchblade's spell but the water had turned cold and she immediately got out. "Don't know what the hell you're doing but that was not cool." The blade hissed back and returned to a quiet bracelet. Quickly she donned her gray, cotton pajama pants and a black sleeveless shirt. Sara padded bare foot into her kitchen and decided to order Chinese take out for dinner. Thirty minutes later her dinner arrived. Though her stomach growled she wasn't too sure she had much of an appetite. But her appetite was not for food. The image of Ian naked was still there in her mind.
~*~
The dark shadow had positioned himself on the rooftop of the building across Sara's apartment. His irritation was evident in his movements. Shifting from one foot to another, accompanied by an exasperated growl. Cursing away at the pelting rain. There was little shelter he could use to protect himself from the cold rain. Though he had not been there long he could feel the water soaking through his coat and hood. For the past ten minutes he had watched Sara lazy move about her loft. Oblivious that she was being watched. He wanted to move closer to get a better look of Sara. But even from this distance he could see her. She was exactly how he imagined her.
".Do not make any attempt of any interaction with her."
His earlier conversation with his master replayed in his mind.
In the distance he had hear Irons and Dr. Immo discussing his state of readiness.
"What are you afraid of? You said he was even better than his predecessor." Irons sat in his wooden throne like chair. Staring up at the good Dr. Immo. He could see the concern looks in the doctor's eyes.
"Physically speaking. Psychologically, we have no idea what he is. I have grave concerns about his aggression levels." Immo knew it was useless to make any attempts of reasoning with Irons. But he still tried; it was true this new version was nowhere near his predecessor. He remembered staring into the empty voids of his eyes. Nothing, there was no soul to be found. And he knew that if Irons were not careful he would lose all control of this one.
"Ian, do come down"
Irons got up from his chair and both men stood before the great hearth and looked up onto the balcony of the library level. The dark shadow appeared before the railing and stared down at the two men.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen." He gracefully floated down the stairs and stopped before both men.
Though the doctor had been monitoring this version for quite some time now he still could not overcome the striking resemblance to the current Ian Nottingham. This one had his hair pulled tightly back into a club. His face cleanly shaven aside from the small tuft of hair below his lower lip. But that was as far as the likeness had gone.
As a man of science he was ecstatic to be witnessing the impossible stand before him. Here stood a scientific find, a clone of Ian Nottingham. But this one lacked something that the original Nottingham possessed. The thought brought Dr. Immo back to his earlier concerns. Irons grinned with obvious satisfaction with his new acquired servant.
Aside from the keen appearance of his predecessor this clone held no resemblance of the acquiescence of Ian Nottingham. This one stood before Irons with his head held high and his hands clasped behind his back. The clone boldly stared back at Iron, never wavering eye contact. With the obvious satisfaction showing on his master's face, the clone returned the gesture by flashing an arrogant grin. In his eyes reflected what Immo was afraid of. Pent up aggression accompanied by overconfidence.
Immo cleared his throat catching both men's attention. The clone gave the doctor a malevolent stare. He had overheard the doctor's concerns to his master. Obviously the good doctor thought it was unwise to activate him. Clearly stating that this successor of the current Ian Nottingham was not good enough psychologically. But physically speaking he far exceeded his predecessor. The sound of Immo's voice broke through his thoughts.
"How are you feeling today, Ian?" Immo questioned, staying as far as he could.
"Restless" A simple word that summed up what he had been feeling since he had been awake.
Immo began to walk around the clone. Carefully keeping his distance as he made a physical assessment.
"Do you remember how you spent your day?" Immo asked.
"No, sir. I think I've been asleep awhile" The clone began to sway slightly on his feet. He was indeed restless.
"What do you remember?" Irons spoke up as he watched Ian.
"My primary mission is to protect you." Irons nodded. Pleased at hearing the reverence in his voice. The clone continued with less feeling, less respect.
".Following that, I protect Sara Pezzini, the wielder of the Witchblade." The clone's voice was void of any feelings. Unlike the show of reverence that of Ian Nottingham have when speaking about his 'Lady' and the Witchblade. This one had a distaste and lack of respect when it came to the both.
"Do you know what she looks like?" Irons questioned.
The clone closed his eyes. Though he had never seen the wielder in person the image of her was in his mind. His smile broadens and he opened his eyes.
"Exactly"
"What else do you know?" Irons continued his inquiry.
"That there is another before me. That my immediate predecessor is defective in his emotional make-up. He's soft. This deficiency will cost him his usefulness, and thus his life. I share some of his memories. I know I only exist because you allow it." He looked at Irons and smiled. He knew his master and was ready to serve him beyond all means possible.
Irons grinned. Satisfied in the knowledge that this one is entirely loyal to him and only him. Irons was not worried that his one would succumb to Sara's unique charms like Ian. Irons moved in closer and spoke again.
"If the time ever arose, do you think you can retrieve Sara Pezzini?"
"Oh, I feel capable of anything." The clone reassured Irons.
"Do you have the appropriate tools?" Irons asked.
The clone brought his hands up and looked at them. Then with a menacing expression he turned to stare at Dr. Immo. Remembering hearing the doctor's comment about his superior physical skills and his growing aggression. Immo took an involuntary step back, afraid at what he had seen and the implication of it.
The clone shifted uncomfortably under the rain. Water was slowly trickling down the back of his neck. He snorted as he continued his surveillance over Sara. Unfortunately his master did not order him to retrieve the wielder. He could hear the conversation in his mind.
"For now I want you to keep an eye on the wielder. Do not make any attempt of any interaction with her."
"What of my predecessor?" He had been so anxious to confront Ian. Wanted to unleash is aggression and punish him for betraying their master.
"I warn you Ian do not confront your predecessor. I only want you to watch. Watch over them both but do not reveal yourself. Record everything they do. Then return home before your predecessor does. Report to me of everything you see and hear. Is that understood?" Irons towered over the clone and bore his icy blue eyes into hazel ones. The clone did not waver from the threat but simply accepted his order from his master.
"Yes I understand, master." The clone spoke out aloud into the rainy night. He continued to watch the wielder move about in her apartment. Her dinner had finally arrived; she sat at her table and began to spoon the contents from the box.
'I am capable of anything. So why does he just want me to watch.' He was beginning to get bored until he spotted his predecessor. His predecessor had hidden himself well into the shadows, in an ally across Sara's building. He just stood there in the rain looking up to the window of the wielder.
"What a pathetic site. His weakness will be his down fall." He sneered as he thought out loud. The clone kept a watchful eye between his so-called predecessor and the wielder. He looked down at his hands. 'Soon very soon.'
~*~