A Family Affair
Disclaimer: Same old, same old.
Author's Note: Once again, I must apologize for the long delay between chapters. Real life really threw me for a loop. Plus, my J.O.B. has been keeping me extremely busy as of late, which sort of drains my creative batteries. I haven't had the energy or inclination to write until just recently. My apologies. WARNING: this chapter contains explicit sexual situations and language, and therefore is unsuitable for those who are offended by that sort of thing or are underage. You've been warned, so PLEASE don't report me to ff.net! Enjoy!
Chapter 63.
The closer they got to the city, the more nervous Sara became about her impending talk with her best friend and partner, Danny Woo. She was very afraid that he'd condemn her for her choice of a mate because of Ian's nefarious past. Having partnered with the man for going on eight years, she knew him extremely well, and she was positive that he would not react well when she revealed that Ian used to assassinate people for a living -- not to mention the fact that, as her Protector, he wouldn't hesitate to kill again in defense of her.
"Just out of curiosity, Ian," she said abruptly, breaking the companionable silence that had fallen between them, "how many people would you say you've assassinated? "
Green-shot light-brown eyes left the road for a moment and examined her expression. "I can tell you precisely how many of my father's enemies I have killed, Sara," he replied. "But are you sure you want to know?"
She shook her head. "No," she admitted softly, "I'm not sure. But Danny will want to know. Of that, I am sure."
Ian nodded resignedly. "I suspected as much. I also suspect that a single murder is one too many in Detective Woo's book, regardless of the circumstances, which means that divulging my past to your partner will in all likelihood serve to alienate him from you."
Apprehensive green eyes studied his profile. "But if I'm really gonna come clean about the Witchblade, I've gotta do it right, and that means telling Danny everything. Partners don't keep secrets from each other. Neither do friends. He's my best friend, Ian. Keeping quiet about what's been going on in my life these past few months has been hard as hell on both of us. Our friendship has suffered from it, and our partnership has, too. I owe it to him, and to myself, to tell him everything," she said, aware that it sounded very much like she was trying to convince herself that what she was about to do was, in fact, the right thing.
"Even if it destroys your friendship?" Ian asked her quietly.
Sara grimaced as though from a sudden, sharp pain. "I gotta believe Danny can handle the truth," she whispered. "The alternative is unthinkable."
"I feel obligated to point out that he may not be able to accept the reality of your being the Wielder of the Witchblade and all that it entails," Ian said bluntly. 'Particularly the fact that you've hooked up with a confessed murderer like me,' he thought bleakly, once again feeling a stab of remorse at having put her in this position.
"Well, things sure as hell can't go on between me and him like they have been," Sara sighed. "Danny's not stupid, Ian. He's known for some time that something's up with me. It's only because we've been friends and partners for so many years that he's let all the weirdness slide for as long as he has." She shook her head resolutely. "No, I don't have any other choice. I've gotta tell him everything if we're gonna make this -- us -- work."
Ian nodded again. "I agree. However, I will understand if you decide to put off telling him about our relationship until later. Revealing the existence of the Witchblade and your role as Its Wielder is enough of a shock for one day, no?"
But she shook her head again. "In for a penny, in for a pound. Besides," she smiled ruefully, "all he'll have to do is take one look at me and he'll know I've gotten laid. Did I mention that he knows me really, really well?"
"You do have a satisfied glow about you," Ian remarked with an answering smile.
Her dark brows shot up. "Do I? Well, looks can be deceiving, 'cause I haven't had my fill of you yet," she murmured, eyeing him lustfully. 'And somehow I don't think I ever will,' she added somberly to herself. A small part of her was alarmed by how quickly she'd become besotted with this man whom, less than a week ago, she'd thought of as her freakish stalker -- whenever she had bothered to think of him at all. How very much had changed since then.
"I hope you never will," Ian said softly, almost as if he'd read her mind. "For I know I will never tire of making love with you, Sara. There has never been, nor will there ever be, anyone else for me. Not since the first time I laid eyes on you."
Sara made a frustrated gesture. "But how can you be so sure?" she protested. "Especially since you've had nothing to compare me to." 'And you're darn right there never will be anybody else!' she added silently, a sudden, fierce surge of possessiveness toward him catching her off guard.
Myriad emotions darkened the changeable hazel eyes that met hers briefly. "As soon as I saw you, I felt an immediate connection, as if a jolt of electricity had passed through my body. In that instant, I knew I was yours, and would be until the day I died. 'Here is a woman who is worthy of being called a True Wielder,' I said to myself. And when the Witchblade chose you minutes later, I knew my instincts had been right, and that it was my destiny to fight by your side," Ian told her.
"There you go again, making me out to be the greatest thing since sliced bread!" Sara said, mild exasperation coloring her tone. "That halo around my head must have become tarnished real fast after you met me and I treated you like shit," she murmured, squirming a little as she remembered how badly she'd behaved toward him.
"I cannot lie to you," Ian acknowledged softly, "your obvious dislike and distrust of me hurt. A lot. But let me hasten to add that I do not blame you for it. No, that honor I reserve solely for my father," he said darkly. "I knew that it was he you truly mistrusted, and since I was his messenger, you understandably tarred me with the same brush. As the days passed, a deep-seated resentment toward him for his presumption in attempting to control you, a True Wielder, took root in my heart. And when I discovered my true calling as your champion and Protector, my resentment blossomed into rebellion. I began to defy him by helping you out whenever it was in my power to do so.
Glancing over at her again, Ian smiled, but it did not reach his expressive eyes. "At first, my budding attraction to you amused him, and he carelessly dismissed it as nothing more than a childish infatuation. You see, he was well aware of how ill-equipped I was to win you over, so I do not think it ever entered his mind that you might actually come to trust me, much less reciprocate my feelings -- especially since his link to the Witchblade, and, hence, to you, let him sense your anger and distaste whenever we chanced to meet."
"God," Sara groaned, "don't remind me of what a bitch I was to you! I feel guilty enough about it already."
He reached over and cupped her cheek tenderly. "That was not my intention, my love," he said quietly. "As I said, I do not blame you for your hostility. I had done nothing to deserve your trust or, for that matter, your affection. In fact, to be perfectly honest with you, I still find it hard to believe that you have fallen in love with me."
"Believe it," she said, turning her head and pressing her lips against his palm. "I'm yours, warts and all."
Ian frowned. "You keep mentioning these warts, but I have yet to discover any of them on your person -- and I have examined your body very, very thoroughly."
"Uh, that was just a figure of speech. What I meant was --"
"I was only joking, Sara," he interrupted her, one of his patented almost-smiles playing about his well-shaped lips.
"Oh." She rolled her shoulders uneasily. "Still, I wonder if you really know what you're getting into here. According to Danny, Vicky, and Jake, I'm not the easiest person in the world to get along with. I'm moody, judgmental, sarcastic, and quick-tempered -- and that's when I'm not PMS-ing!"
"You left out compassionate, honorable, brave, intelligent, and infinitely desirable."
Sara couldn't help smiling in the face of such devotion. "Says you."
"I had better be the only one who says the latter," Ian agreed, "for I would take extreme umbrage if another man were to express desire for you." Although his tone remained light, there was a definite edge to his words, and something dark and dangerous flitted behind his eyes for just an instant.
"Hmmm, there's a scary thought: A jealous, genetically enhanced former assassin. Lucky for all those unsuspecting horndogs out there, I only have eyes for my Protector," Sara hastened to reassure him.
"And what lovely eyes they are."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, you smooth-talking devil, you," Sara grinned, reaching over to tuck a wayward tendril of dark, curling hair behind his ear.
They exited the FDR Drive and slowed to a stop at a red light. Ian slowly leaned toward her, and Sara noticed that the gold flecks in his extraordinary eyes glowed like embers in a fire. Then their lips met in a sizzling kiss that all-too-soon was interrupted by the horns of the impatient drivers behind them when the light turned green. With obvious reluctance, Ian broke off the kiss and took his foot off the brake.
"I don't suppose we have time for a quickie?" Sara asked hopefully, pulse racing.
"Your partner is waiting for you, and I must make certain that both your loft and the vicinity are secure before you return here with him," Ian pointed out, stopping the SUV several blocks from her building. "Besides, when it comes to making love with you, I do not like to rush."
Sara wiggled her brows at him. "Ah, but sometimes rushing is good. Allow me to demonstrate." She reached over and started to unbuckle his belt, fingers deliberately brushing the prominent bulge in his pants in the process.
"Here?" Ian asked, glancing around nervously. "One of my father's security teams may be patrolling the area, Sara, and they have our vehicle's description and plate number."
Sara glanced at the Witchblade's quiescent stone and then out the window at the deserted street before shaking her head dismissively. "Nope. Witchy isn't sounding any alarms and nobody's around," she said, "We're good to go." She deftly unzipped his trousers.
"But this is not even a legal parking space!" he protested weakly.
"Since only nonessential personnel are supposed to be out on the roads because of the blizzard, I don't think we have to worry about traffic cops," she reassured him, finally freeing her prize. "Why, hello there, Mr. Hoody! I see you missed me as much as I missed you!"
Ian emitted a fractured groan as, without further ado, she bent over and took him in her mouth. "God, Sara!" he groaned as her head began bobbing energetically. Within moments, her slick lips and agile tongue had him rock hard.
"Slide your seat back all the way," she commanded, glancing up at his flushed and perspiring face with a wicked grin.
He did as requested, and reaching over his iron-muscled thighs, Sara located the lever on the side of his seat that let the seatback recline.
Abruptly, Ian found himself staring up at the SUV's ceiling. He heard the sound of a zipper and then clothing rustling, and raised his head to see that Sara had somehow managed to shimmy out of her jeans and panties in about ten seconds flat. Then she was straddling him. Grasping his rigid length, she guided him to the entrance of her body, and he hissed with delight as the humid heat of her tight sheath slowly enveloped him. But this marked the end of her restraint: She began moving at an insistent pace as she leaned over him, bracing her hands on the seatback.
"Too fast!" Ian gasped, feeling his release begin building with shameful swiftness.
"That's the point!" Sara panted, dimly aware that the SUV was rocking rhythmically and that the windows had started to fog over.
Ian was surprised to realize that instead of inhibiting him, the riskiness of the situation actually added to his excitement. Grasping the sides of the car seat for dear life, he began raising his hips to meet her downstroke. One of his last coherent thoughts was that although her oversized cable-knit sweater thankfully hid their nakedness from view, it would be patently obvious to any passersby just what they were doing.
Sara moaned loudly, her movements becoming frantic, as the head of his enormous cock began hitting her G-spot. Seconds later, a climax of epic proportions gripped her, and throwing back her head, she let out a throaty cry, which was echoed by Ian's shout of completion.
"That, my young Jedi knight, was a quickie," she breathed a scant minute later, sitting up. "This concludes your lesson for the day."
Ian was gazing dreamily up at the ceiling. "That . . ." dazed hazel eyes met hers, "was phenomenal," he sighed, his breathing slowly returning to normal. "Thank you, Sara." Tiny quakes of pleasure still radiated outward from where their bodies remained joined, and he felt drugged with bliss.
Sara leaned forward again and pressed a brief kiss to his lips. "Glad you liked it," she smiled, nuzzling his face and inhaling his wonderful scent. "But I've gotta get going if I'm gonna meet Danny close to when I said I would."
Loathe to break their union, Ian reflexively grasped her slender thighs as she sat up again and started to rise up off of him. "Wait!" he pleaded. "Just stay like this a minute longer."
"Can't," she said, dismounting and scooting back over into the passenger seat. "That would violate the ten-minute rule."
"'The ten-minute rule'?" he queried, raising himself up on his elbows to watch her fetch her undies and jeans out of the foot well.
"Yeah," she smirked, smoothing out her rolled-up panties. "If it takes longer than ten minutes, start to finish, it's technically not a quickie!"
Frowning skeptically, he tucked himself back into his long johns and briefs and zipped up. "You made that up!" he mock accused her, returning his seatback to an upright position.
Sara grinned at him. "Did not."
"Hmph." Ian buckled his belt. "I suppose there is also a time constraint on this phone sex you mentioned earlier," he mused. "Except for nights and weekends, of course."
Green eyes widened in surprise, and then Sara burst out laughing. "You're really funny, Nottingham, you know that?" she gasped a full two minutes later, wiping tears from her eyes. "I gotta remember that one."
Ian grinned happily. He so adored making her laugh. Abruptly, he remembered how he had once begrudged Gabriel Bowman his seemingly effortless ability to do the same. 'What I really ought to have done is thank him,' he thought, time and changed circumstances allowing him to be magnanimous toward the younger man. 'There's been far too little laughter in Sara's life lately.'
Sara wriggled into her underwear and jeans, then tugged on and tied her boots. "Okay, I should be back with Danny in about 45 minutes," she said, shrugging into her down jacket and pulling her knit hat over her gleaming chestnut hair. "I'll leave the car keys in my mailbox like you said."
"Very well," Ian murmured, opening the driver-side door and getting out. He felt invigorated by their lovemaking but also famished, and wondered whether he should impose on Gabriel for something to eat -- assuming, of course, the younger man was agreeable to the idea of Ian visiting him that afternoon. It was then he recalled ordering groceries for Sara the day before the blizzard had hit. He'd left instructions for the building's superintendent to be contacted upon delivery. Hopefully, the food had been delivered and any perishable items had been put away by the super, whom Ian knew had a key to the loft for just such contingencies. 'Well, I'll find out soon enough,' he mused, pulling on his hat and gloves.
Sara hopped out and came around to the driver's side. "See you in a few hours, my love," she said, raising her face to his for a farewell kiss.
Ian gladly obliged, then watched as she got behind the wheel and adjusted the driver's seat to suit her shorter legs. But before she could drive off, he tapped on the still-foggy window.
"Yeah?" she said, rolling it down.
"Seventeen," he said quietly.
"Seventeen what?" she frowned in puzzlement.
"You said Danny would want to know exactly how many people I have assassinated," he said, his unflinching gaze holding hers.
"Oh." Some of the color drained from her cheeks, but, to his vast relief, Ian could not detect even a hint of condemnation in her green, green eyes. "Thanks," she murmured, then added, "Please be careful out there, Ian."
"Always, my love."
"Bye!" Sara rolled the window back up and pulled away. When she glanced in the rearview mirror moments later, she was not at all surprised to see that he'd vanished without a trace. 'The man's dressed in black from head to toe,' she mused, 'which means he should stick out like a sore thumb against all this snow. But, noooo! Not my Protector! Poof! Like magic, he's gone.' She shook her head ruefully. 'My enemies don't stand a freaking chance!'
Naturally, this last thought reminded her of what Nottingham had just told her. Sara's initial reaction to his revelation had been surprise: She'd expected the body count to be much, much higher. After all, this was Kenneth Irons they were talking about. The man probably made a dozen new enemies before breakfast! The recent clash with the Russians only served to underscore this. From what Ian had told her, they'd been justified in their desire for retribution against the egomaniacal billionaire. A cold shiver went up and down Sara's spine as she thought about what might have happened to her Protector had she not come to his rescue that night. Irons sure as hell had a lot to answer for, Sara thought grimly for the umpteenth time in the past few days, and she spent the next few minutes fantasizing about him getting his long overdue comeuppance.
As she got closer to Danny's home, she realized that she no longer felt as anxious about telling him about Ian's past -- mainly because she was going to make damn sure he knew who the real villain was in the grand scheme of things: Kenneth Irons.
A few minutes later, she double-parked the SUV on the street in front of her partner's apartment building and got out. Glumly, she eyed the enormous mound of plowed snow that was between her and the sidewalk. But Danny must have been looking out for her arrival because suddenly he appeared in the building's vestibule.
"Hey, Pez," he greeted her, pulling on his gloves as he exited the glass and steel doors.
"Hey, Woo." With some amusement, she watched him stagger through the deep snow.
They hugged when he finally reached the street. "Where we going?" he asked.
"I thought we'd get takeout and then head back to my place, if that's okay with you?" she asked, opening the car door.
"Fine by me." Danny went around to the passenger side, brushing clumps of snow from his jeans and stamping his booted feet before climbing inside. He glanced around the SUV's luxuriously appointed interior. "Nice ride."
"Yeah," Sara murmured noncommittally, fastening her seatbelt. "How about Thai food? Hopefully, my favorite place is open."
"Sounds good," he said, buckling up. "You buying?"
"Of course," she smiled. She felt his eyes on her as she put the car in drive and pulled away.
"Do I even have to ask who the lucky guy is?" he said sardonically.
Sara shook her head ruefully. 'Less than a minute. That's gotta be a record,' she thought to herself. "Okay, so I jumped Nottingham's bones," she admitted, blushing. "Now, can we please skip the part where you say 'I told you so'?"
Sniggering gleefully, Danny shook his head. "Nuh-unh. I told you so! I told you so!" he chanted annoyingly. "I so knew he was your type!" But then he frowned. "But I thought you said he was badly hurt during the battle with those Russians?"
Sara winced. 'Shit. I should have seen that coming. It's what makes him such a great detective: he never misses a thing!' "Um, yeah, that's partly what I wanted to talk to you about," she reluctantly admitted. "But not until after we eat, okay? I don't wanna ruin your appetite."
"Hmmm. Sounds serious," Danny murmured, sobering. "So, this is Nottingham's car, hunh?" he asked, thankfully changing the subject.
"Sort of." She shrugged. "Technically, it belongs to that asshole Kenneth Irons."
"Oh." He leaned over to look at the odometer. "Wow. I don't think I've ever ridden in a car with less than 50,000 miles on it, let alone one with less than 1,000." She heard him inhale deeply. "I just love that new car smell, don't you?"
Sara smiled secretively as she recalled the way the car had smelled not too long ago. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought she could detect a lingering trace of passion in the air. Her slender body quivered at the memory of her and Ian's feverishly quick but immensely satisfying coupling.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the Thai restaurant that Sara regularly ordered takeout from. She was glad to see that it was open for business.
"There's no place to park, so one of us is gonna have to stay behind the wheel, and since I'm already here, would you mind?" she said, pulling some money out of her jacket pocket.
"Wish I'd worn my snowshoes," Danny grumbled good-naturedly, pocketing the money. "Your usual, Madam?"
"Yes, please!" She could practically taste the lemongrass chicken already.
"Be right back." He got out.
{Ian?} Sara sent as soon as her partner disappeared inside the small establishment.
{Yes, my love?} he responded instantly.
{Is everything okay?}
{Yes. There's no sign of a security team in the area, nor does it appear that anybody is watching the loft.}
{Good, 'cause me and Danny are only a few blocks away. He's ordering lunch as we speak.}
{I'll be waiting in the alley by the time you get here,} he assured her.
{Did you call Gabriel?}
{Not yet. I will though.}
{When you do speak to him, tell him I said 'hi.'}
{Will do.}
Her stomach growled loudly. {I just realized that you must be hungry, too,} she said. {Sorry I don't have anything to eat at my place. I guess you'll have to pick up something on the way to Gabriel's.}
{Unnecessary. I'm eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as we speak,} Ian informed her. {The night we went to dinner at your godparents' house, I overheard you telling your godfather that you badly needed to go shopping, and when I saw for myself how bare your cupboards were, I took the liberty of having some groceries delivered to your home the next day while you were at work,} he explained. {Your superintendent was kind enough to put the perishable items away.}
{That was really thoughtful of you, baby,} Sara told him. {Thanks a lot.}
{You're welcome. Mmmm, this is really quite delicious,} he commented. {No wonder you like them so much!}
{Don't tell me you never had a PB&J sandwich before!} Sara said incredulously.
{Not since I was very, very young and still living at the orphanage,} Ian replied. {My father frowned on such 'pedestrian fare.'}
{Asshole!} Sara opined succinctly. {I practically lived on PB&J sandwiches when I was in college and at the police academy. Money was tight, and they're cheap, nutritious, and, like you said, delicious!}
{Plus, they're easy to prepare and can be eaten on the go,} Ian enthused. {Oops!} There was a slight pause. {Unless, of course, you use too much jelly,} he added ruefully. {In that case, things can get a bit messy.}
{For me, the mess is part of the charm,} she laughed. {Somehow, it just doesn't seem right if you don't end up with sticky fingers after eating a PB&J! Uh-oh, here comes Danny. Gotta go! Bye!}
{See you later, my love.}
Sara unlocked the doors as Danny slogged through the snow and came around to the passenger side, plastic, "I Heart NY" takeout bag in hand. Again, he conscientiously stamped his feet and brushed snow off his legs before climbing into the SUV.
"Here's your change," he said, handing her a couple of singles and some coins.
"Thanks, Partner," Sara said, shoving it in her jacket pocket. She waited until he buckled up before pulling away. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved."
"I could eat," Danny nodded.
She caught a whiff of the mouth-watering scent emanating from the bag that he'd placed on the floor between his feet, and her stomach rumbled loudly again, the sound clearly audible in the cozy confines of the SUV, bringing a smile to her passenger's handsome face.
"Wish me luck finding parking," Sara murmured as she turned down her street. She knew that she had to make a token effort to find a space or risk raising Danny's suspicions. "What I wouldn't do for a VIP placard right about now."
"Tell me about it. I was damn lucky to find a spot on my block before the storm hit."
"It's kinda neat how the parked cars are nothing more than rounded bumps, hunh?" Sara observed. "Even the SUVs!"
Danny grimaced. "Neat if you don't have dig one of them out," he muttered, "which I'm so not looking forward to having to do."
They passed the alley next to her building, where she customarily parked her motorcycle, and Sara glanced down it. She saw no sign of Nottingham, but she sensed that he was nearby, and the Witchblade confirmed it by swirling warmly as It was wont to do.
"Hey, look!" Danny said, pointing further up the street. "There's actually a spot!"
Sure enough, somebody had gone to the considerable trouble of digging their car out, leaving behind a nice-sized space. It took some doing, but Sara finally managed to maneuver the SUV into the spot.
'A pity it won't be ours for long,' she thought. 'And it'll probably be gone by the time Ian comes back.' Not that it mattered, Sara realized unhappily, belatedly remembering that he planned on returning to the estate later that evening.
{Miraculously, I found a parking space right up the street from my building, Ian,} she sent, unbuckling her seatbelt.
{If it's the spot I'm thinking of,} he responded. {I watched the previous occupant finish the laborious process of digging his vehicle out less than half an hour ago.}
{Now that I think about it, ours is one of the few cars I've seen without any snow on it,} Sara commented, getting out and going around to the back. {Lucky for us, Robbie and Paula have a two-car garage, hunh? All we had to do was shovel the driveway.} With some difficulty because of the limited space between the SUV and the snow-covered car behind it, she managed to open the trunk and remove her duffle bag.
{That was indeed fortunate. However, the lack of snow also makes the SUV stand out, and I am fairly certain that my father's men aren't the only ones with the vehicle's description and plates.}
{Wait a sec,} Sara said, alarmed, {are you saying Irons might have reported the car stolen!?!}
{Unfortunately, it's a distinct possibility,} Ian reluctantly admitted.
{Then maybe you'd better leave it parked here and take public transportation to Gabriel's place,} she suggested, her mind whirling at the thought of what might have happened had she and Danny been pulled over by a squad car. How on earth would she have explained the situation to her partner, much less the officers who stopped them? And they weren't out of the woods yet; she still had to take Danny home after their talk.
"Maybe I'd better take the subway home," Danny said, almost as though he'd read her mind. He'd climbed over into the driver's seat to get out in order to avoid the mountain of snow on the passenger side. Reaching over, he snagged the bag containing their food.
"Nah," Sara said quickly, closing the trunk. "If I found this spot, I'll find another." She shouldered her bag.
"You sure?" he glanced around the deserted street. "I didn't see any others on the way here, and I was looking." They began heading toward her apartment building, walking in the middle of the empty street.
{Sara, I'm not comfortable having to depend on public transportation in the event that I must return here quickly,} Ian said.
"I'm sure," she answered Danny. To Ian, she sent, {I think you can risk it. Both Danny and I have guns, and then, or course, there's the Witchblade. But, come to think of it, Gabriel mentioned that a neighbor of his owns a car. Maybe he could borrow it in a pinch and run you over here?}
{I suppose that's feasible,} he responded, but she clearly sensed his dissatisfaction with this solution.
{Relax, baby, I'll be fine,} Sara soothed. {Go and have fun at Gabriel's,} she urged him. {Now, I've really gotta go. I'm not so good at carrying on two conversations at once!}
{Very well,} Ian sent. {But please alert me as soon as you're done talking.}
{Will do. Bye!}
She was chagrinned to discover that Danny had begun speaking to her during the tail end of her exchange with her Protector. But after listening to him for a few moments, she was relieved to discover that he was relating the story of his five-year-old daughter's reaction to the record snowfall, and thus no response had been required from her up to that point.
Sara reciprocated by telling him about the snowball fight in the Siris' backyard, ending it by saying "and that's when Ian kissed me for the first time."
"Well, then," Danny remarked, grinning, "you obviously had no choice but to jump his bones."
"Obviously!" Sara smirked, taking out her keys and unlocking her front door. She stepped inside, dropping her duffle bag on the floor, and took a quick look around. Ian had apparently taken the time to put away the rest of the groceries, because there was no sign of them. Sara took off her outerwear, stuffing her hat, scarf, and gloves into her coat sleeve before tossing it onto the couch.
Danny took the food into the kitchen and set it on the kitchen table before removing his navy-blue pea coat, hat, scarf, and gloves. He hung his coat on the coat tree near the front door.
"Let's chow down!" Sara said, going into the kitchen and getting out a couple of plates and some serving spoons. "What would you like to drink?" she inquired, placing the items on the table.
"What do you have?" he queried, removing the takeout cartons from the bag, along with a couple of pairs of chopsticks.
"Um," Sara did a quick inventory of her amazingly well-stocked, see- through refrigerator, "beer, seltzer, O.J., Diet Coke, bottled water, and fruit punch."
"I'll have a beer, thank you."
Sara grabbed a bottle of beer and a can of seltzer for herself, and took a seat at the table.
The two friends made desultory conversation during the meal, which was devoured quickly and efficiently.
"Mmmm. As usual, that was excellent," Danny murmured, rubbing his belly contentedly.
"It's the best Thai food in town, hands down," Sara said, getting up and placing their dirty plates in the sink. 'Okay,' she thought, 'the moment of truth has arrived.' Taking a deep, steadying breath, she turned around and retook her seat across from Danny.
"So," he said, beating her to the punch, "what did you want to talk to me about?" He took a swig of beer, his dark, almond-shaped eyes studying her expression curiously.
"Remember me telling you about that shootout at the Midtown Museum?" she asked him.
"The one that ended with a natural gas explosion and with you somehow avoiding getting burned to a crisp, unlike the shooter?" he said blandly. "Sure."
"Yeah, well, aside from walking away without a scratch when, by all accounts, I should have been killed, something really strange and fantastic happened to me that day."
"Do tell."
"I came into possession of this," she held up her right wrist and pulled down her sleeve to expose the intricate silver bracelet with the large, blood-red stone that adorned it, "and became the next Wielder of the Witchblade."
More to come. I know, I know! After an intolerably long wait, I have the nerve to leave it there! Bad, bad me! Please, please, please bear with me! I've learned my lesson: never say you'll post again soon. Life (of the dreaded real variety) has a funny way of throwing a spanner in the works despite your best intentions! Thank you all for your continued support of my creative efforts. As always, I eagerly look forward to reading your feedback, and I'll try my damnedest to post the next installment in a more timely manner! (See? I didn't say "soon"!). dragongrrl
Disclaimer: Same old, same old.
Author's Note: Once again, I must apologize for the long delay between chapters. Real life really threw me for a loop. Plus, my J.O.B. has been keeping me extremely busy as of late, which sort of drains my creative batteries. I haven't had the energy or inclination to write until just recently. My apologies. WARNING: this chapter contains explicit sexual situations and language, and therefore is unsuitable for those who are offended by that sort of thing or are underage. You've been warned, so PLEASE don't report me to ff.net! Enjoy!
Chapter 63.
The closer they got to the city, the more nervous Sara became about her impending talk with her best friend and partner, Danny Woo. She was very afraid that he'd condemn her for her choice of a mate because of Ian's nefarious past. Having partnered with the man for going on eight years, she knew him extremely well, and she was positive that he would not react well when she revealed that Ian used to assassinate people for a living -- not to mention the fact that, as her Protector, he wouldn't hesitate to kill again in defense of her.
"Just out of curiosity, Ian," she said abruptly, breaking the companionable silence that had fallen between them, "how many people would you say you've assassinated? "
Green-shot light-brown eyes left the road for a moment and examined her expression. "I can tell you precisely how many of my father's enemies I have killed, Sara," he replied. "But are you sure you want to know?"
She shook her head. "No," she admitted softly, "I'm not sure. But Danny will want to know. Of that, I am sure."
Ian nodded resignedly. "I suspected as much. I also suspect that a single murder is one too many in Detective Woo's book, regardless of the circumstances, which means that divulging my past to your partner will in all likelihood serve to alienate him from you."
Apprehensive green eyes studied his profile. "But if I'm really gonna come clean about the Witchblade, I've gotta do it right, and that means telling Danny everything. Partners don't keep secrets from each other. Neither do friends. He's my best friend, Ian. Keeping quiet about what's been going on in my life these past few months has been hard as hell on both of us. Our friendship has suffered from it, and our partnership has, too. I owe it to him, and to myself, to tell him everything," she said, aware that it sounded very much like she was trying to convince herself that what she was about to do was, in fact, the right thing.
"Even if it destroys your friendship?" Ian asked her quietly.
Sara grimaced as though from a sudden, sharp pain. "I gotta believe Danny can handle the truth," she whispered. "The alternative is unthinkable."
"I feel obligated to point out that he may not be able to accept the reality of your being the Wielder of the Witchblade and all that it entails," Ian said bluntly. 'Particularly the fact that you've hooked up with a confessed murderer like me,' he thought bleakly, once again feeling a stab of remorse at having put her in this position.
"Well, things sure as hell can't go on between me and him like they have been," Sara sighed. "Danny's not stupid, Ian. He's known for some time that something's up with me. It's only because we've been friends and partners for so many years that he's let all the weirdness slide for as long as he has." She shook her head resolutely. "No, I don't have any other choice. I've gotta tell him everything if we're gonna make this -- us -- work."
Ian nodded again. "I agree. However, I will understand if you decide to put off telling him about our relationship until later. Revealing the existence of the Witchblade and your role as Its Wielder is enough of a shock for one day, no?"
But she shook her head again. "In for a penny, in for a pound. Besides," she smiled ruefully, "all he'll have to do is take one look at me and he'll know I've gotten laid. Did I mention that he knows me really, really well?"
"You do have a satisfied glow about you," Ian remarked with an answering smile.
Her dark brows shot up. "Do I? Well, looks can be deceiving, 'cause I haven't had my fill of you yet," she murmured, eyeing him lustfully. 'And somehow I don't think I ever will,' she added somberly to herself. A small part of her was alarmed by how quickly she'd become besotted with this man whom, less than a week ago, she'd thought of as her freakish stalker -- whenever she had bothered to think of him at all. How very much had changed since then.
"I hope you never will," Ian said softly, almost as if he'd read her mind. "For I know I will never tire of making love with you, Sara. There has never been, nor will there ever be, anyone else for me. Not since the first time I laid eyes on you."
Sara made a frustrated gesture. "But how can you be so sure?" she protested. "Especially since you've had nothing to compare me to." 'And you're darn right there never will be anybody else!' she added silently, a sudden, fierce surge of possessiveness toward him catching her off guard.
Myriad emotions darkened the changeable hazel eyes that met hers briefly. "As soon as I saw you, I felt an immediate connection, as if a jolt of electricity had passed through my body. In that instant, I knew I was yours, and would be until the day I died. 'Here is a woman who is worthy of being called a True Wielder,' I said to myself. And when the Witchblade chose you minutes later, I knew my instincts had been right, and that it was my destiny to fight by your side," Ian told her.
"There you go again, making me out to be the greatest thing since sliced bread!" Sara said, mild exasperation coloring her tone. "That halo around my head must have become tarnished real fast after you met me and I treated you like shit," she murmured, squirming a little as she remembered how badly she'd behaved toward him.
"I cannot lie to you," Ian acknowledged softly, "your obvious dislike and distrust of me hurt. A lot. But let me hasten to add that I do not blame you for it. No, that honor I reserve solely for my father," he said darkly. "I knew that it was he you truly mistrusted, and since I was his messenger, you understandably tarred me with the same brush. As the days passed, a deep-seated resentment toward him for his presumption in attempting to control you, a True Wielder, took root in my heart. And when I discovered my true calling as your champion and Protector, my resentment blossomed into rebellion. I began to defy him by helping you out whenever it was in my power to do so.
Glancing over at her again, Ian smiled, but it did not reach his expressive eyes. "At first, my budding attraction to you amused him, and he carelessly dismissed it as nothing more than a childish infatuation. You see, he was well aware of how ill-equipped I was to win you over, so I do not think it ever entered his mind that you might actually come to trust me, much less reciprocate my feelings -- especially since his link to the Witchblade, and, hence, to you, let him sense your anger and distaste whenever we chanced to meet."
"God," Sara groaned, "don't remind me of what a bitch I was to you! I feel guilty enough about it already."
He reached over and cupped her cheek tenderly. "That was not my intention, my love," he said quietly. "As I said, I do not blame you for your hostility. I had done nothing to deserve your trust or, for that matter, your affection. In fact, to be perfectly honest with you, I still find it hard to believe that you have fallen in love with me."
"Believe it," she said, turning her head and pressing her lips against his palm. "I'm yours, warts and all."
Ian frowned. "You keep mentioning these warts, but I have yet to discover any of them on your person -- and I have examined your body very, very thoroughly."
"Uh, that was just a figure of speech. What I meant was --"
"I was only joking, Sara," he interrupted her, one of his patented almost-smiles playing about his well-shaped lips.
"Oh." She rolled her shoulders uneasily. "Still, I wonder if you really know what you're getting into here. According to Danny, Vicky, and Jake, I'm not the easiest person in the world to get along with. I'm moody, judgmental, sarcastic, and quick-tempered -- and that's when I'm not PMS-ing!"
"You left out compassionate, honorable, brave, intelligent, and infinitely desirable."
Sara couldn't help smiling in the face of such devotion. "Says you."
"I had better be the only one who says the latter," Ian agreed, "for I would take extreme umbrage if another man were to express desire for you." Although his tone remained light, there was a definite edge to his words, and something dark and dangerous flitted behind his eyes for just an instant.
"Hmmm, there's a scary thought: A jealous, genetically enhanced former assassin. Lucky for all those unsuspecting horndogs out there, I only have eyes for my Protector," Sara hastened to reassure him.
"And what lovely eyes they are."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, you smooth-talking devil, you," Sara grinned, reaching over to tuck a wayward tendril of dark, curling hair behind his ear.
They exited the FDR Drive and slowed to a stop at a red light. Ian slowly leaned toward her, and Sara noticed that the gold flecks in his extraordinary eyes glowed like embers in a fire. Then their lips met in a sizzling kiss that all-too-soon was interrupted by the horns of the impatient drivers behind them when the light turned green. With obvious reluctance, Ian broke off the kiss and took his foot off the brake.
"I don't suppose we have time for a quickie?" Sara asked hopefully, pulse racing.
"Your partner is waiting for you, and I must make certain that both your loft and the vicinity are secure before you return here with him," Ian pointed out, stopping the SUV several blocks from her building. "Besides, when it comes to making love with you, I do not like to rush."
Sara wiggled her brows at him. "Ah, but sometimes rushing is good. Allow me to demonstrate." She reached over and started to unbuckle his belt, fingers deliberately brushing the prominent bulge in his pants in the process.
"Here?" Ian asked, glancing around nervously. "One of my father's security teams may be patrolling the area, Sara, and they have our vehicle's description and plate number."
Sara glanced at the Witchblade's quiescent stone and then out the window at the deserted street before shaking her head dismissively. "Nope. Witchy isn't sounding any alarms and nobody's around," she said, "We're good to go." She deftly unzipped his trousers.
"But this is not even a legal parking space!" he protested weakly.
"Since only nonessential personnel are supposed to be out on the roads because of the blizzard, I don't think we have to worry about traffic cops," she reassured him, finally freeing her prize. "Why, hello there, Mr. Hoody! I see you missed me as much as I missed you!"
Ian emitted a fractured groan as, without further ado, she bent over and took him in her mouth. "God, Sara!" he groaned as her head began bobbing energetically. Within moments, her slick lips and agile tongue had him rock hard.
"Slide your seat back all the way," she commanded, glancing up at his flushed and perspiring face with a wicked grin.
He did as requested, and reaching over his iron-muscled thighs, Sara located the lever on the side of his seat that let the seatback recline.
Abruptly, Ian found himself staring up at the SUV's ceiling. He heard the sound of a zipper and then clothing rustling, and raised his head to see that Sara had somehow managed to shimmy out of her jeans and panties in about ten seconds flat. Then she was straddling him. Grasping his rigid length, she guided him to the entrance of her body, and he hissed with delight as the humid heat of her tight sheath slowly enveloped him. But this marked the end of her restraint: She began moving at an insistent pace as she leaned over him, bracing her hands on the seatback.
"Too fast!" Ian gasped, feeling his release begin building with shameful swiftness.
"That's the point!" Sara panted, dimly aware that the SUV was rocking rhythmically and that the windows had started to fog over.
Ian was surprised to realize that instead of inhibiting him, the riskiness of the situation actually added to his excitement. Grasping the sides of the car seat for dear life, he began raising his hips to meet her downstroke. One of his last coherent thoughts was that although her oversized cable-knit sweater thankfully hid their nakedness from view, it would be patently obvious to any passersby just what they were doing.
Sara moaned loudly, her movements becoming frantic, as the head of his enormous cock began hitting her G-spot. Seconds later, a climax of epic proportions gripped her, and throwing back her head, she let out a throaty cry, which was echoed by Ian's shout of completion.
"That, my young Jedi knight, was a quickie," she breathed a scant minute later, sitting up. "This concludes your lesson for the day."
Ian was gazing dreamily up at the ceiling. "That . . ." dazed hazel eyes met hers, "was phenomenal," he sighed, his breathing slowly returning to normal. "Thank you, Sara." Tiny quakes of pleasure still radiated outward from where their bodies remained joined, and he felt drugged with bliss.
Sara leaned forward again and pressed a brief kiss to his lips. "Glad you liked it," she smiled, nuzzling his face and inhaling his wonderful scent. "But I've gotta get going if I'm gonna meet Danny close to when I said I would."
Loathe to break their union, Ian reflexively grasped her slender thighs as she sat up again and started to rise up off of him. "Wait!" he pleaded. "Just stay like this a minute longer."
"Can't," she said, dismounting and scooting back over into the passenger seat. "That would violate the ten-minute rule."
"'The ten-minute rule'?" he queried, raising himself up on his elbows to watch her fetch her undies and jeans out of the foot well.
"Yeah," she smirked, smoothing out her rolled-up panties. "If it takes longer than ten minutes, start to finish, it's technically not a quickie!"
Frowning skeptically, he tucked himself back into his long johns and briefs and zipped up. "You made that up!" he mock accused her, returning his seatback to an upright position.
Sara grinned at him. "Did not."
"Hmph." Ian buckled his belt. "I suppose there is also a time constraint on this phone sex you mentioned earlier," he mused. "Except for nights and weekends, of course."
Green eyes widened in surprise, and then Sara burst out laughing. "You're really funny, Nottingham, you know that?" she gasped a full two minutes later, wiping tears from her eyes. "I gotta remember that one."
Ian grinned happily. He so adored making her laugh. Abruptly, he remembered how he had once begrudged Gabriel Bowman his seemingly effortless ability to do the same. 'What I really ought to have done is thank him,' he thought, time and changed circumstances allowing him to be magnanimous toward the younger man. 'There's been far too little laughter in Sara's life lately.'
Sara wriggled into her underwear and jeans, then tugged on and tied her boots. "Okay, I should be back with Danny in about 45 minutes," she said, shrugging into her down jacket and pulling her knit hat over her gleaming chestnut hair. "I'll leave the car keys in my mailbox like you said."
"Very well," Ian murmured, opening the driver-side door and getting out. He felt invigorated by their lovemaking but also famished, and wondered whether he should impose on Gabriel for something to eat -- assuming, of course, the younger man was agreeable to the idea of Ian visiting him that afternoon. It was then he recalled ordering groceries for Sara the day before the blizzard had hit. He'd left instructions for the building's superintendent to be contacted upon delivery. Hopefully, the food had been delivered and any perishable items had been put away by the super, whom Ian knew had a key to the loft for just such contingencies. 'Well, I'll find out soon enough,' he mused, pulling on his hat and gloves.
Sara hopped out and came around to the driver's side. "See you in a few hours, my love," she said, raising her face to his for a farewell kiss.
Ian gladly obliged, then watched as she got behind the wheel and adjusted the driver's seat to suit her shorter legs. But before she could drive off, he tapped on the still-foggy window.
"Yeah?" she said, rolling it down.
"Seventeen," he said quietly.
"Seventeen what?" she frowned in puzzlement.
"You said Danny would want to know exactly how many people I have assassinated," he said, his unflinching gaze holding hers.
"Oh." Some of the color drained from her cheeks, but, to his vast relief, Ian could not detect even a hint of condemnation in her green, green eyes. "Thanks," she murmured, then added, "Please be careful out there, Ian."
"Always, my love."
"Bye!" Sara rolled the window back up and pulled away. When she glanced in the rearview mirror moments later, she was not at all surprised to see that he'd vanished without a trace. 'The man's dressed in black from head to toe,' she mused, 'which means he should stick out like a sore thumb against all this snow. But, noooo! Not my Protector! Poof! Like magic, he's gone.' She shook her head ruefully. 'My enemies don't stand a freaking chance!'
Naturally, this last thought reminded her of what Nottingham had just told her. Sara's initial reaction to his revelation had been surprise: She'd expected the body count to be much, much higher. After all, this was Kenneth Irons they were talking about. The man probably made a dozen new enemies before breakfast! The recent clash with the Russians only served to underscore this. From what Ian had told her, they'd been justified in their desire for retribution against the egomaniacal billionaire. A cold shiver went up and down Sara's spine as she thought about what might have happened to her Protector had she not come to his rescue that night. Irons sure as hell had a lot to answer for, Sara thought grimly for the umpteenth time in the past few days, and she spent the next few minutes fantasizing about him getting his long overdue comeuppance.
As she got closer to Danny's home, she realized that she no longer felt as anxious about telling him about Ian's past -- mainly because she was going to make damn sure he knew who the real villain was in the grand scheme of things: Kenneth Irons.
A few minutes later, she double-parked the SUV on the street in front of her partner's apartment building and got out. Glumly, she eyed the enormous mound of plowed snow that was between her and the sidewalk. But Danny must have been looking out for her arrival because suddenly he appeared in the building's vestibule.
"Hey, Pez," he greeted her, pulling on his gloves as he exited the glass and steel doors.
"Hey, Woo." With some amusement, she watched him stagger through the deep snow.
They hugged when he finally reached the street. "Where we going?" he asked.
"I thought we'd get takeout and then head back to my place, if that's okay with you?" she asked, opening the car door.
"Fine by me." Danny went around to the passenger side, brushing clumps of snow from his jeans and stamping his booted feet before climbing inside. He glanced around the SUV's luxuriously appointed interior. "Nice ride."
"Yeah," Sara murmured noncommittally, fastening her seatbelt. "How about Thai food? Hopefully, my favorite place is open."
"Sounds good," he said, buckling up. "You buying?"
"Of course," she smiled. She felt his eyes on her as she put the car in drive and pulled away.
"Do I even have to ask who the lucky guy is?" he said sardonically.
Sara shook her head ruefully. 'Less than a minute. That's gotta be a record,' she thought to herself. "Okay, so I jumped Nottingham's bones," she admitted, blushing. "Now, can we please skip the part where you say 'I told you so'?"
Sniggering gleefully, Danny shook his head. "Nuh-unh. I told you so! I told you so!" he chanted annoyingly. "I so knew he was your type!" But then he frowned. "But I thought you said he was badly hurt during the battle with those Russians?"
Sara winced. 'Shit. I should have seen that coming. It's what makes him such a great detective: he never misses a thing!' "Um, yeah, that's partly what I wanted to talk to you about," she reluctantly admitted. "But not until after we eat, okay? I don't wanna ruin your appetite."
"Hmmm. Sounds serious," Danny murmured, sobering. "So, this is Nottingham's car, hunh?" he asked, thankfully changing the subject.
"Sort of." She shrugged. "Technically, it belongs to that asshole Kenneth Irons."
"Oh." He leaned over to look at the odometer. "Wow. I don't think I've ever ridden in a car with less than 50,000 miles on it, let alone one with less than 1,000." She heard him inhale deeply. "I just love that new car smell, don't you?"
Sara smiled secretively as she recalled the way the car had smelled not too long ago. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought she could detect a lingering trace of passion in the air. Her slender body quivered at the memory of her and Ian's feverishly quick but immensely satisfying coupling.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the Thai restaurant that Sara regularly ordered takeout from. She was glad to see that it was open for business.
"There's no place to park, so one of us is gonna have to stay behind the wheel, and since I'm already here, would you mind?" she said, pulling some money out of her jacket pocket.
"Wish I'd worn my snowshoes," Danny grumbled good-naturedly, pocketing the money. "Your usual, Madam?"
"Yes, please!" She could practically taste the lemongrass chicken already.
"Be right back." He got out.
{Ian?} Sara sent as soon as her partner disappeared inside the small establishment.
{Yes, my love?} he responded instantly.
{Is everything okay?}
{Yes. There's no sign of a security team in the area, nor does it appear that anybody is watching the loft.}
{Good, 'cause me and Danny are only a few blocks away. He's ordering lunch as we speak.}
{I'll be waiting in the alley by the time you get here,} he assured her.
{Did you call Gabriel?}
{Not yet. I will though.}
{When you do speak to him, tell him I said 'hi.'}
{Will do.}
Her stomach growled loudly. {I just realized that you must be hungry, too,} she said. {Sorry I don't have anything to eat at my place. I guess you'll have to pick up something on the way to Gabriel's.}
{Unnecessary. I'm eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as we speak,} Ian informed her. {The night we went to dinner at your godparents' house, I overheard you telling your godfather that you badly needed to go shopping, and when I saw for myself how bare your cupboards were, I took the liberty of having some groceries delivered to your home the next day while you were at work,} he explained. {Your superintendent was kind enough to put the perishable items away.}
{That was really thoughtful of you, baby,} Sara told him. {Thanks a lot.}
{You're welcome. Mmmm, this is really quite delicious,} he commented. {No wonder you like them so much!}
{Don't tell me you never had a PB&J sandwich before!} Sara said incredulously.
{Not since I was very, very young and still living at the orphanage,} Ian replied. {My father frowned on such 'pedestrian fare.'}
{Asshole!} Sara opined succinctly. {I practically lived on PB&J sandwiches when I was in college and at the police academy. Money was tight, and they're cheap, nutritious, and, like you said, delicious!}
{Plus, they're easy to prepare and can be eaten on the go,} Ian enthused. {Oops!} There was a slight pause. {Unless, of course, you use too much jelly,} he added ruefully. {In that case, things can get a bit messy.}
{For me, the mess is part of the charm,} she laughed. {Somehow, it just doesn't seem right if you don't end up with sticky fingers after eating a PB&J! Uh-oh, here comes Danny. Gotta go! Bye!}
{See you later, my love.}
Sara unlocked the doors as Danny slogged through the snow and came around to the passenger side, plastic, "I Heart NY" takeout bag in hand. Again, he conscientiously stamped his feet and brushed snow off his legs before climbing into the SUV.
"Here's your change," he said, handing her a couple of singles and some coins.
"Thanks, Partner," Sara said, shoving it in her jacket pocket. She waited until he buckled up before pulling away. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved."
"I could eat," Danny nodded.
She caught a whiff of the mouth-watering scent emanating from the bag that he'd placed on the floor between his feet, and her stomach rumbled loudly again, the sound clearly audible in the cozy confines of the SUV, bringing a smile to her passenger's handsome face.
"Wish me luck finding parking," Sara murmured as she turned down her street. She knew that she had to make a token effort to find a space or risk raising Danny's suspicions. "What I wouldn't do for a VIP placard right about now."
"Tell me about it. I was damn lucky to find a spot on my block before the storm hit."
"It's kinda neat how the parked cars are nothing more than rounded bumps, hunh?" Sara observed. "Even the SUVs!"
Danny grimaced. "Neat if you don't have dig one of them out," he muttered, "which I'm so not looking forward to having to do."
They passed the alley next to her building, where she customarily parked her motorcycle, and Sara glanced down it. She saw no sign of Nottingham, but she sensed that he was nearby, and the Witchblade confirmed it by swirling warmly as It was wont to do.
"Hey, look!" Danny said, pointing further up the street. "There's actually a spot!"
Sure enough, somebody had gone to the considerable trouble of digging their car out, leaving behind a nice-sized space. It took some doing, but Sara finally managed to maneuver the SUV into the spot.
'A pity it won't be ours for long,' she thought. 'And it'll probably be gone by the time Ian comes back.' Not that it mattered, Sara realized unhappily, belatedly remembering that he planned on returning to the estate later that evening.
{Miraculously, I found a parking space right up the street from my building, Ian,} she sent, unbuckling her seatbelt.
{If it's the spot I'm thinking of,} he responded. {I watched the previous occupant finish the laborious process of digging his vehicle out less than half an hour ago.}
{Now that I think about it, ours is one of the few cars I've seen without any snow on it,} Sara commented, getting out and going around to the back. {Lucky for us, Robbie and Paula have a two-car garage, hunh? All we had to do was shovel the driveway.} With some difficulty because of the limited space between the SUV and the snow-covered car behind it, she managed to open the trunk and remove her duffle bag.
{That was indeed fortunate. However, the lack of snow also makes the SUV stand out, and I am fairly certain that my father's men aren't the only ones with the vehicle's description and plates.}
{Wait a sec,} Sara said, alarmed, {are you saying Irons might have reported the car stolen!?!}
{Unfortunately, it's a distinct possibility,} Ian reluctantly admitted.
{Then maybe you'd better leave it parked here and take public transportation to Gabriel's place,} she suggested, her mind whirling at the thought of what might have happened had she and Danny been pulled over by a squad car. How on earth would she have explained the situation to her partner, much less the officers who stopped them? And they weren't out of the woods yet; she still had to take Danny home after their talk.
"Maybe I'd better take the subway home," Danny said, almost as though he'd read her mind. He'd climbed over into the driver's seat to get out in order to avoid the mountain of snow on the passenger side. Reaching over, he snagged the bag containing their food.
"Nah," Sara said quickly, closing the trunk. "If I found this spot, I'll find another." She shouldered her bag.
"You sure?" he glanced around the deserted street. "I didn't see any others on the way here, and I was looking." They began heading toward her apartment building, walking in the middle of the empty street.
{Sara, I'm not comfortable having to depend on public transportation in the event that I must return here quickly,} Ian said.
"I'm sure," she answered Danny. To Ian, she sent, {I think you can risk it. Both Danny and I have guns, and then, or course, there's the Witchblade. But, come to think of it, Gabriel mentioned that a neighbor of his owns a car. Maybe he could borrow it in a pinch and run you over here?}
{I suppose that's feasible,} he responded, but she clearly sensed his dissatisfaction with this solution.
{Relax, baby, I'll be fine,} Sara soothed. {Go and have fun at Gabriel's,} she urged him. {Now, I've really gotta go. I'm not so good at carrying on two conversations at once!}
{Very well,} Ian sent. {But please alert me as soon as you're done talking.}
{Will do. Bye!}
She was chagrinned to discover that Danny had begun speaking to her during the tail end of her exchange with her Protector. But after listening to him for a few moments, she was relieved to discover that he was relating the story of his five-year-old daughter's reaction to the record snowfall, and thus no response had been required from her up to that point.
Sara reciprocated by telling him about the snowball fight in the Siris' backyard, ending it by saying "and that's when Ian kissed me for the first time."
"Well, then," Danny remarked, grinning, "you obviously had no choice but to jump his bones."
"Obviously!" Sara smirked, taking out her keys and unlocking her front door. She stepped inside, dropping her duffle bag on the floor, and took a quick look around. Ian had apparently taken the time to put away the rest of the groceries, because there was no sign of them. Sara took off her outerwear, stuffing her hat, scarf, and gloves into her coat sleeve before tossing it onto the couch.
Danny took the food into the kitchen and set it on the kitchen table before removing his navy-blue pea coat, hat, scarf, and gloves. He hung his coat on the coat tree near the front door.
"Let's chow down!" Sara said, going into the kitchen and getting out a couple of plates and some serving spoons. "What would you like to drink?" she inquired, placing the items on the table.
"What do you have?" he queried, removing the takeout cartons from the bag, along with a couple of pairs of chopsticks.
"Um," Sara did a quick inventory of her amazingly well-stocked, see- through refrigerator, "beer, seltzer, O.J., Diet Coke, bottled water, and fruit punch."
"I'll have a beer, thank you."
Sara grabbed a bottle of beer and a can of seltzer for herself, and took a seat at the table.
The two friends made desultory conversation during the meal, which was devoured quickly and efficiently.
"Mmmm. As usual, that was excellent," Danny murmured, rubbing his belly contentedly.
"It's the best Thai food in town, hands down," Sara said, getting up and placing their dirty plates in the sink. 'Okay,' she thought, 'the moment of truth has arrived.' Taking a deep, steadying breath, she turned around and retook her seat across from Danny.
"So," he said, beating her to the punch, "what did you want to talk to me about?" He took a swig of beer, his dark, almond-shaped eyes studying her expression curiously.
"Remember me telling you about that shootout at the Midtown Museum?" she asked him.
"The one that ended with a natural gas explosion and with you somehow avoiding getting burned to a crisp, unlike the shooter?" he said blandly. "Sure."
"Yeah, well, aside from walking away without a scratch when, by all accounts, I should have been killed, something really strange and fantastic happened to me that day."
"Do tell."
"I came into possession of this," she held up her right wrist and pulled down her sleeve to expose the intricate silver bracelet with the large, blood-red stone that adorned it, "and became the next Wielder of the Witchblade."
More to come. I know, I know! After an intolerably long wait, I have the nerve to leave it there! Bad, bad me! Please, please, please bear with me! I've learned my lesson: never say you'll post again soon. Life (of the dreaded real variety) has a funny way of throwing a spanner in the works despite your best intentions! Thank you all for your continued support of my creative efforts. As always, I eagerly look forward to reading your feedback, and I'll try my damnedest to post the next installment in a more timely manner! (See? I didn't say "soon"!). dragongrrl