~*~
Sara stared vacantly out into her apartment. She sat at her kitchen table, absently picking at her food. The warm glow of the blade along with the flash of lighting pulled Sara out of her reverie. She blinked back dazedly as she swept her darkened apartment. Somehow during her daydreaming the power had gone out. 'Damn storm must have knocked one of the power lines' She thought as she stared out the window. Evidently the storm had picked up some momentum.
The heavy sound of raindrops pounding against her windowpane echoed in her apartment. She blindly made her way to one of the drawers in her kitchen and pulled out a flashlight. Muttering a few choice curses while lighting candles as she quickly made her way around the apartment. She blew out the flame of the match and walked back into the kitchen. She placed the flashlight back in the drawer and returned to her seat.
Sara picked up her fork and bit into the cold orange flavored chicken. She sighed when she realized her food had gone cold. It didn't matter she didn't have much of an appetite. She picked up the cartons of food and began to store them in her fridge. Not that she needed the leftovers. She had her suspensions on how or more so on who was responsible. Over the past weeks her kitchen had been miraculously stocked with everything to her favorite foods down to the bare necessities, especially coffee.
Sara wasn't hungry but she opened a cabinet and reached for a coffee mug. Grateful that she had decided to brew a pot of coffee when she came home, before the power had unexpectedly been knocked out. She poured herself a cup and wandered into her living room. She sat on the couch, her back leaning against the armrest, and her legs drawn up to her chest. She wrapped her hands around the cup and stared out through the window. Then she took a careful sip of her coffee. She closed her eyes to the savory rich blend, letting the warm liquid run down her throat instantly warming the rest of her body. 'Well at least the man has good taste in coffees' she thought to herself.
Sara opened her eyes, looked out the window, and stared at the empty fire escape. She felt a pang of disappointment that he wasn't there. She knew he had been watching over her since she obtained the Witchblade. There were times she had caught a glimpse of him out there. At first it had bothered her greatly that Irons saw fit to send his lapdog to watch her. After a while his presence had grown on her. She somehow felt safer when he was around watching her, protecting her. Knowing that she wasn't truly alone in this world. Yet she wasn't going to admit that to herself.
It still left the fact that there was nothing left of her personal life that Nottingham didn't know about. Which meant that Irons too would have known all that was going on with her life. Did it also mean that he had been there during her time with John? She felt embarrassed at the notion that Nottingham standing outside on her fire escaping watching in on them. She shuddered at the thought of him reporting back to Irons at what he saw.
Sara felt her anger rise again at the thought of Irons. She didn't want to think that because of that voyeuristic freak her precious moments with John were tarnished. The blade hissed on her arm, sending her a vision of Nottingham. In the background was a church and Nottingham was leaning against the wall at the bottom of the steps. He was bent over at the waist; his arms were close to his chest, looking as if he was going to be sick.
The blade brought her closer to see his face. His forehead was coated in sweat, his mouth open, and breathing heavily. Looking as if he was suffering from something but from what? There in his eyes, glazed with tears, reflected such raw emotions: undeniable lust, desire, fear, and pain. It was the pain and fear that outshined everything else. He straightens up and let the wall support his large frame. Leaning back heavily against the wall Nottingham took a deep breath. Sara couldn't decide the reason why his body was still shaking. Was it from the cold night air or something else? He closed his eyes and tears began to stream down his face until it faded into his dark beard. Nottingham titled his head back against the wall, taking deep breaths. Soon his shaking abated and his breathing had returned to normal.
Nottingham opened his eyes and in those hazel orbs Sara could see nothing. She couldn't find the right words to describe what she had seen. It reflected emptiness and loss. He pushed off from the wall, took another deep breath, and as he exhaled a puff of white smoke formed. He turned and started walking towards the church. His shoulders were slumped, his arms swung lazily, and he his head bowed. Sara watched as the black form disappeared. 'He looked as if he was fighting this great battle and was.defeated' Sara thought. A perfect word that described the Nottingham she had seen. Defeated.
The vibrant stone on her bracelet quieted down and returned to a dull silence. Sara gasped as she was pulled back from her vision. Her sudden movements made the contents in her cup, which she still held in her hands, dangerously sloshing the hot liquid over the rim. Some of it landing on her left hand, Sara hissed from the burning sensation.
"Damn it!" She placed the mug on the table and immediately made her way to the kitchen sink. She let the cool water run over her hand. Turing off the faucet she reached for one of her dish rags and dabbed at the small offending red mark on her hand. She threw the rag down and made her way back to the couch. Just as she passed the window the blade hissed again.
"Oh no, you're not doing this to me again." She yelled at the bracelet.
There was no sign of another vision but the stone began to glow an angry crimson. She lifted her hand to stare into the red stone. An image of a face flashed before in the stone. It was Nottingham but not the Nottingham she knew. This one was different somehow. His face was cleanly shaven besides a small patch of hair beneath his lower lip, and his eyes were cold and menacing. Sara tore her eyes away from the stone and looked out the window. She narrowed here eyes trying to look through not only the darkness but also through the rain. There on the roof top of the building across she had seen something. Within the blink of an eye it was gone.
She looked down at the stone, now quiet and dormant. Before heading back to the couch she looked out the window, searching the vicinity. Finding nothing out there she returned back to the couch. As she sat down she couldn't help but be alert to an overwhelming sense that something wasn't right. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Sara reached over to the table, grabbed her cup and took a long sip of coffee. Hoping to ward off the chilly feeling she had. If she was being watched then it wasn't by Ian.
'You mean Nottingham don't you?'
Sara could still hear Danny's amusement over her little slip of the tongue. After taking another sip Sara couldn't help but grin. The grin soon faded when thoughts of him brought her back to what she had seen earlier. What had happened after? What was he doing now? Questions ran through her mind as she stared into her coffee, which only reminded her the color of his eyes. 'Where was he now?' She thought.
Sara stared vacantly out into her apartment. She sat at her kitchen table, absently picking at her food. The warm glow of the blade along with the flash of lighting pulled Sara out of her reverie. She blinked back dazedly as she swept her darkened apartment. Somehow during her daydreaming the power had gone out. 'Damn storm must have knocked one of the power lines' She thought as she stared out the window. Evidently the storm had picked up some momentum.
The heavy sound of raindrops pounding against her windowpane echoed in her apartment. She blindly made her way to one of the drawers in her kitchen and pulled out a flashlight. Muttering a few choice curses while lighting candles as she quickly made her way around the apartment. She blew out the flame of the match and walked back into the kitchen. She placed the flashlight back in the drawer and returned to her seat.
Sara picked up her fork and bit into the cold orange flavored chicken. She sighed when she realized her food had gone cold. It didn't matter she didn't have much of an appetite. She picked up the cartons of food and began to store them in her fridge. Not that she needed the leftovers. She had her suspensions on how or more so on who was responsible. Over the past weeks her kitchen had been miraculously stocked with everything to her favorite foods down to the bare necessities, especially coffee.
Sara wasn't hungry but she opened a cabinet and reached for a coffee mug. Grateful that she had decided to brew a pot of coffee when she came home, before the power had unexpectedly been knocked out. She poured herself a cup and wandered into her living room. She sat on the couch, her back leaning against the armrest, and her legs drawn up to her chest. She wrapped her hands around the cup and stared out through the window. Then she took a careful sip of her coffee. She closed her eyes to the savory rich blend, letting the warm liquid run down her throat instantly warming the rest of her body. 'Well at least the man has good taste in coffees' she thought to herself.
Sara opened her eyes, looked out the window, and stared at the empty fire escape. She felt a pang of disappointment that he wasn't there. She knew he had been watching over her since she obtained the Witchblade. There were times she had caught a glimpse of him out there. At first it had bothered her greatly that Irons saw fit to send his lapdog to watch her. After a while his presence had grown on her. She somehow felt safer when he was around watching her, protecting her. Knowing that she wasn't truly alone in this world. Yet she wasn't going to admit that to herself.
It still left the fact that there was nothing left of her personal life that Nottingham didn't know about. Which meant that Irons too would have known all that was going on with her life. Did it also mean that he had been there during her time with John? She felt embarrassed at the notion that Nottingham standing outside on her fire escaping watching in on them. She shuddered at the thought of him reporting back to Irons at what he saw.
Sara felt her anger rise again at the thought of Irons. She didn't want to think that because of that voyeuristic freak her precious moments with John were tarnished. The blade hissed on her arm, sending her a vision of Nottingham. In the background was a church and Nottingham was leaning against the wall at the bottom of the steps. He was bent over at the waist; his arms were close to his chest, looking as if he was going to be sick.
The blade brought her closer to see his face. His forehead was coated in sweat, his mouth open, and breathing heavily. Looking as if he was suffering from something but from what? There in his eyes, glazed with tears, reflected such raw emotions: undeniable lust, desire, fear, and pain. It was the pain and fear that outshined everything else. He straightens up and let the wall support his large frame. Leaning back heavily against the wall Nottingham took a deep breath. Sara couldn't decide the reason why his body was still shaking. Was it from the cold night air or something else? He closed his eyes and tears began to stream down his face until it faded into his dark beard. Nottingham titled his head back against the wall, taking deep breaths. Soon his shaking abated and his breathing had returned to normal.
Nottingham opened his eyes and in those hazel orbs Sara could see nothing. She couldn't find the right words to describe what she had seen. It reflected emptiness and loss. He pushed off from the wall, took another deep breath, and as he exhaled a puff of white smoke formed. He turned and started walking towards the church. His shoulders were slumped, his arms swung lazily, and he his head bowed. Sara watched as the black form disappeared. 'He looked as if he was fighting this great battle and was.defeated' Sara thought. A perfect word that described the Nottingham she had seen. Defeated.
The vibrant stone on her bracelet quieted down and returned to a dull silence. Sara gasped as she was pulled back from her vision. Her sudden movements made the contents in her cup, which she still held in her hands, dangerously sloshing the hot liquid over the rim. Some of it landing on her left hand, Sara hissed from the burning sensation.
"Damn it!" She placed the mug on the table and immediately made her way to the kitchen sink. She let the cool water run over her hand. Turing off the faucet she reached for one of her dish rags and dabbed at the small offending red mark on her hand. She threw the rag down and made her way back to the couch. Just as she passed the window the blade hissed again.
"Oh no, you're not doing this to me again." She yelled at the bracelet.
There was no sign of another vision but the stone began to glow an angry crimson. She lifted her hand to stare into the red stone. An image of a face flashed before in the stone. It was Nottingham but not the Nottingham she knew. This one was different somehow. His face was cleanly shaven besides a small patch of hair beneath his lower lip, and his eyes were cold and menacing. Sara tore her eyes away from the stone and looked out the window. She narrowed here eyes trying to look through not only the darkness but also through the rain. There on the roof top of the building across she had seen something. Within the blink of an eye it was gone.
She looked down at the stone, now quiet and dormant. Before heading back to the couch she looked out the window, searching the vicinity. Finding nothing out there she returned back to the couch. As she sat down she couldn't help but be alert to an overwhelming sense that something wasn't right. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Sara reached over to the table, grabbed her cup and took a long sip of coffee. Hoping to ward off the chilly feeling she had. If she was being watched then it wasn't by Ian.
'You mean Nottingham don't you?'
Sara could still hear Danny's amusement over her little slip of the tongue. After taking another sip Sara couldn't help but grin. The grin soon faded when thoughts of him brought her back to what she had seen earlier. What had happened after? What was he doing now? Questions ran through her mind as she stared into her coffee, which only reminded her the color of his eyes. 'Where was he now?' She thought.