BDP48
Ian jimmied the lock to Moira's apartment, noting that it was even easier the second time than it had been the first. He was going to have to remember to speak to her about getting a better lock. The place was dark, she obviously had not returned yet.
Feeling a bit let down, Ian turned on the lights in the living room and returned to the small painting that had captured his attention on his previous visit. The fox was perfectly done, fur ruffled slightly from the same wind that curled around the stones.
Ian shivered briefly, caught up in a sudden memory. This was Kensalayre, the standing stones on the Isle of Skye. It was there that Deidre had been offered up as sacrifice to appease Cathain, to summon her forth to Conchobar's aid. It was the same place that Irons had placed the Gauntlet on his wrist that one and only time. It had been a frightening night for Ian. At first because he knew the risks that his father was taking, but as the ritual progressed, he had a great many more things to fear than the fact that Kenneth might lose his hand to the Witchblade.
The heavy fog had been filled with shapes half-realized, but all of them heavy with meaning. He couldn't help feeling that there was something ancient and angry waiting just beyond the feeble torchlight. Voices had come from the night, words that should never have traveled, given the sound dampening effects of fog. They had called to him in a thousand different languages, some of which he understood. He had thought they would drive him mad, and perhaps they had, a little.
Nottingham turned away from the picture, not wanting to think about such things. Tonight he was going to be alone with his lady; there was no place for dark memories. He banished the images with one of Moira, her skin gleaming in the candlelight.
It was such an appealing memory that he went looking through her cabinets, hoping to find some. In the linen closet in the hall he found a package of tapers, but only one candleholder. Scrounging through the kitchen, he found a decorative pair of crystal holders, still in their box. Ian wondered if they had been a gift, since they didn't seem to fit her style. Not that it mattered right now; all he cared about was that they would hold the candles. He grabbed a couple of small plates, knowing that the wax could easily be scraped off when he was done, to finish out his collection.
He set the candles around the bed, making an intimate little pool of light. He headed back into the bathroom to see what else he could find. A small incense burner sat on top of the toilet, which made him grin. He wondered whom she'd gotten it for, Matheson or Weiss, or both? Tonight it would be put to different use. He took it to the bedroom as well, lighting the Panchavi stick from one of the already burning tapers.
Wisps of incense curled toward the ceiling as Ian headed back into the living room. He turned on the stereo, searching the dial until he found a classical station. He turned it up enough to drown out the sound of the TV blaring in the apartment next door. With that done, Ian stripped and slid into the bed. He hoped Moira would return soon, the bed seemed empty without her.
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Getting Ms Bronte off base was going to be a bit more difficult than Moira had originally considered. She had forgotten that she wasn't supposed to leave the base without written permission from her superior. The odds of Pym giving her a pass were slim and none.
Of course, she didn't have to tell Pym the whole truth, did she? Besides, Pym's attitude toward the whole project had changed over the past few months. He seemed to want as little to do with it as possible. Moira reached for the phone at the front desk, her fingers crossed. "Dr. Pym? Yes sir. No sir. Casca has suffered a cardiac arrest. I've got something of a problem. Apparently Casca provided transportation for at least one of the women, and she's ready to leave. Do you want to take her back wherever or should I have an MP pick her up? No? Do you know what time it is sir? I suppose I could. Yes sir. Goodnight sir."
"What?" Beth asked, having only one side of the conversation, and Moira's tone, to go by.
"I asked Pym if he wanted to play chauffer, so he told me to do it. He's calling the gatehouse now to give me leave to depart the base. Come on." Moira started for her car. Glad at least that Beth was still wearing her visitor's pass, so they wouldn't have to brave Casca's office to retrieve it. She really didn't want to run into Ian in there. Beth might be ok, but what she didn't know, she couldn't be made to tell.
They made it through the gatehouse without incident, the MP signing them out and collecting Beth's visitor's badge. Once off the grounds, Moira drove one way for a while, and then turned. She made an erratic pattern through the city, actually going around the block at one point. As deserted as the streets were at this hour, it would have been ridiculously easy to spot anyone tailing them, but Moira continued her circuitous route.
After about an hour they left town and headed down the highway to a county road. They followed it for twenty minutes before pulling off at a farmhouse. Moira made Beth wait in the car while she went in and explained the situation to her cousin.
If Finn objected, she could still take the brunette to a hotel. Her tow- headed cousin didn't disappoint her, saying he had room for the young lady and it would be an interesting change to have one of his charges talk back. His only stipulation had been that Beth had the option to stay or go.
Finn wasn't a jailer, and he wanted that made perfectly clear. He was a large animal veterinarian, who patched up anything that crossed his path in his spare time. He had always made sure that the wild things he saved were free to return to the wilderness, so it was not an unexpected requirement.
Moira hadn't seen anything wrong with his conditions, and readily agreed to them. Besides, she doubted that Beth could be kept here if she wanted to leave, considering she had escaped from Casca before.
The point had become mute from the moment the two were introduced. They were both clearly taken with each other. Moira didn't think she'd ever seen Finn so flustered. He was practically babbling as he showed Beth around the house, introducing her to the menagerie of animals he was caring for.
Beth seemed as taken with him as he was with her. The brunette looked at him as if he were a revelation. Finn cared for the animals, and it showed. He talked about each animal, detailing what had been wrong with them, as well as what he had done to correct their problems. Moira didn't think Beth was used to thinking of medicine as something that could be used purely for healing.
It wasn't just Finn's nurturing and caring nature that Beth liked. Her cousin was, now that she really looked at him, attractive. Not handsome, but attractive. He was muscular and tanned from working in the field with the horses and cattle that were his main source of income. The shock of white-blonde hair and pale blue eyes were an interesting contrast to his sun-baked complexion.
Goddess alone knew where Finn got all that melanin; Moira couldn't tan worth a lick. All she did was burn. She left Beth with Finn, assured that they would get along well. Beth was already unbending enough to kneel on the floor to pet, and be licked by, Finn's small army of rescued dogs. Somehow she didn't think they'd miss her, judging by the absentminded replies to her farewell.
There was someone who was missing her, and she couldn't wait to get back to him. Moira wasn't so distracted by the fact that she drove straight back in, but the return route was far less circuitous. She logged back in at the gate and headed for her apartment, singing along with the radio, which was playing Rick Springfield's 'Affair of the Heart'.
Ian jimmied the lock to Moira's apartment, noting that it was even easier the second time than it had been the first. He was going to have to remember to speak to her about getting a better lock. The place was dark, she obviously had not returned yet.
Feeling a bit let down, Ian turned on the lights in the living room and returned to the small painting that had captured his attention on his previous visit. The fox was perfectly done, fur ruffled slightly from the same wind that curled around the stones.
Ian shivered briefly, caught up in a sudden memory. This was Kensalayre, the standing stones on the Isle of Skye. It was there that Deidre had been offered up as sacrifice to appease Cathain, to summon her forth to Conchobar's aid. It was the same place that Irons had placed the Gauntlet on his wrist that one and only time. It had been a frightening night for Ian. At first because he knew the risks that his father was taking, but as the ritual progressed, he had a great many more things to fear than the fact that Kenneth might lose his hand to the Witchblade.
The heavy fog had been filled with shapes half-realized, but all of them heavy with meaning. He couldn't help feeling that there was something ancient and angry waiting just beyond the feeble torchlight. Voices had come from the night, words that should never have traveled, given the sound dampening effects of fog. They had called to him in a thousand different languages, some of which he understood. He had thought they would drive him mad, and perhaps they had, a little.
Nottingham turned away from the picture, not wanting to think about such things. Tonight he was going to be alone with his lady; there was no place for dark memories. He banished the images with one of Moira, her skin gleaming in the candlelight.
It was such an appealing memory that he went looking through her cabinets, hoping to find some. In the linen closet in the hall he found a package of tapers, but only one candleholder. Scrounging through the kitchen, he found a decorative pair of crystal holders, still in their box. Ian wondered if they had been a gift, since they didn't seem to fit her style. Not that it mattered right now; all he cared about was that they would hold the candles. He grabbed a couple of small plates, knowing that the wax could easily be scraped off when he was done, to finish out his collection.
He set the candles around the bed, making an intimate little pool of light. He headed back into the bathroom to see what else he could find. A small incense burner sat on top of the toilet, which made him grin. He wondered whom she'd gotten it for, Matheson or Weiss, or both? Tonight it would be put to different use. He took it to the bedroom as well, lighting the Panchavi stick from one of the already burning tapers.
Wisps of incense curled toward the ceiling as Ian headed back into the living room. He turned on the stereo, searching the dial until he found a classical station. He turned it up enough to drown out the sound of the TV blaring in the apartment next door. With that done, Ian stripped and slid into the bed. He hoped Moira would return soon, the bed seemed empty without her.
************************************************************************
Getting Ms Bronte off base was going to be a bit more difficult than Moira had originally considered. She had forgotten that she wasn't supposed to leave the base without written permission from her superior. The odds of Pym giving her a pass were slim and none.
Of course, she didn't have to tell Pym the whole truth, did she? Besides, Pym's attitude toward the whole project had changed over the past few months. He seemed to want as little to do with it as possible. Moira reached for the phone at the front desk, her fingers crossed. "Dr. Pym? Yes sir. No sir. Casca has suffered a cardiac arrest. I've got something of a problem. Apparently Casca provided transportation for at least one of the women, and she's ready to leave. Do you want to take her back wherever or should I have an MP pick her up? No? Do you know what time it is sir? I suppose I could. Yes sir. Goodnight sir."
"What?" Beth asked, having only one side of the conversation, and Moira's tone, to go by.
"I asked Pym if he wanted to play chauffer, so he told me to do it. He's calling the gatehouse now to give me leave to depart the base. Come on." Moira started for her car. Glad at least that Beth was still wearing her visitor's pass, so they wouldn't have to brave Casca's office to retrieve it. She really didn't want to run into Ian in there. Beth might be ok, but what she didn't know, she couldn't be made to tell.
They made it through the gatehouse without incident, the MP signing them out and collecting Beth's visitor's badge. Once off the grounds, Moira drove one way for a while, and then turned. She made an erratic pattern through the city, actually going around the block at one point. As deserted as the streets were at this hour, it would have been ridiculously easy to spot anyone tailing them, but Moira continued her circuitous route.
After about an hour they left town and headed down the highway to a county road. They followed it for twenty minutes before pulling off at a farmhouse. Moira made Beth wait in the car while she went in and explained the situation to her cousin.
If Finn objected, she could still take the brunette to a hotel. Her tow- headed cousin didn't disappoint her, saying he had room for the young lady and it would be an interesting change to have one of his charges talk back. His only stipulation had been that Beth had the option to stay or go.
Finn wasn't a jailer, and he wanted that made perfectly clear. He was a large animal veterinarian, who patched up anything that crossed his path in his spare time. He had always made sure that the wild things he saved were free to return to the wilderness, so it was not an unexpected requirement.
Moira hadn't seen anything wrong with his conditions, and readily agreed to them. Besides, she doubted that Beth could be kept here if she wanted to leave, considering she had escaped from Casca before.
The point had become mute from the moment the two were introduced. They were both clearly taken with each other. Moira didn't think she'd ever seen Finn so flustered. He was practically babbling as he showed Beth around the house, introducing her to the menagerie of animals he was caring for.
Beth seemed as taken with him as he was with her. The brunette looked at him as if he were a revelation. Finn cared for the animals, and it showed. He talked about each animal, detailing what had been wrong with them, as well as what he had done to correct their problems. Moira didn't think Beth was used to thinking of medicine as something that could be used purely for healing.
It wasn't just Finn's nurturing and caring nature that Beth liked. Her cousin was, now that she really looked at him, attractive. Not handsome, but attractive. He was muscular and tanned from working in the field with the horses and cattle that were his main source of income. The shock of white-blonde hair and pale blue eyes were an interesting contrast to his sun-baked complexion.
Goddess alone knew where Finn got all that melanin; Moira couldn't tan worth a lick. All she did was burn. She left Beth with Finn, assured that they would get along well. Beth was already unbending enough to kneel on the floor to pet, and be licked by, Finn's small army of rescued dogs. Somehow she didn't think they'd miss her, judging by the absentminded replies to her farewell.
There was someone who was missing her, and she couldn't wait to get back to him. Moira wasn't so distracted by the fact that she drove straight back in, but the return route was far less circuitous. She logged back in at the gate and headed for her apartment, singing along with the radio, which was playing Rick Springfield's 'Affair of the Heart'.