VoyForums

[ VoyUser Login optional ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, [7], 8, 9, 10 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 19:33:05 11/22/02 Fri
Author: Slally
Subject: "Breathing Space" - Chapter 48 (R) - more tomorrow
In reply to: Slally 's message, ""Breathing Space"" on 19:20:10 11/22/02 Fri

When she first opened her eyes, Sara had a moment of blind panic, having absolutely no idea where she was. Then she remembered – the cabin. Her hand wandered on to Ian's side of the bed. It wasn't even a little warm. He'd probably been up for a while. She could still see the impression that his head had made on the other pillow. She rolled over and buried her face in it, smelling his shampoo and the male scent of him. "Where is he anyway?" she thought. She could tell by the light coming in the bedroom window that it was still early. Then, she heard a small sound from the other room and she smelled fresh coffee. That combination was enough to get her moving. When she sat up, she saw her robe at the foot of the bed. That made her smile. He'd anticipated her again. He'd found her robe in the unpacked bags so that she could schlep around in it to get her coffee – the way she started the morning at the loft.

Sara shrugged into the robe and padded barefoot to the bedroom door. She stopped there, transfixed. Ian was in a clear space between the two seating areas. Clad only in a pair of loose black silk pants, he executed a ritualistic series of katana movements with deadly precision and balletic grace. She watched fascinated as her lover smoothly pivoted and lunged from one lethal position to another. "Mesmerizing," she thought, "Like a cobra coming out of a basket." A light sheen of sweat covered his chest and back. Out of nowhere, a quote popped into her mind: "'Tyger, tyger, burning bright, in the forests of the night. What immortal hand or eye hath framed thy fearful symmetry'?" She frowned. "Who wrote that?" she thought.

"William Blake," he replied, his back still to her. She crossed her arms and smirked. "A little early in the day for mind reading, isn't it, ace?" she asked. He dropped the sword and turned to face her. "I felt you watching me," he said, "I only got the piece of poem and your question. I didn't pick up anything else." She smiled and asked, "Were you trying?" He shook his head. "I have no idea why I caught that," he replied. "Well, don't stop on my account," she said, "I was just passing through to get to the coffee." "I'm done," he said, "I'll sit and have some tea with you before I shower." He hesitated and then added, "Unless you'd rather be alone." "Nah," she replied, heading toward the kitchen, "Come keep me company while I wake up. By the way, thanks for finding my robe for me." He shrugged and smiled a little shyly. "I know you like to wear your robe in the morning."

As she poured her first cup of coffee, she said, "I'm a real creature of habit, aren't I?" He put the kettle on to boil, then turned to watch her sit at the table. "I wouldn't put it that way. You've got a strong personality. You know what you want, what you like. You're just Sara through and through," he finished, lifting one shoulder a little. She looked at him curiously as he sat across from her and asked, "And are you Ian through and through?" He studied her for a moment before he shook his head and said, "No. I'm only beginning to learn who I am. And it's all confused with destiny, Excalibur, Mr. Irons, the Witchblade, you. Trying to find me within that mix is daunting." His head dropped and he added, "I'm not even sure that there is a me."

She reached across the table to take his hand. "Of course there's a you," she said. He raised his head and lifted one eyebrow skeptically. "Okay," she asked, "What do you like?" The kettle screeched and he got up to shut it off and pour his tea. He turned back to her and said, "I don't know what you mean." She took a big gulp of coffee and then said, "Give me a list of some things that you like. Wait, I'll make it easy for you. What's your favorite color?" "Black," he said immediately, sitting back down at the table. She frowned. "Ah, I'm beginning to get what he's saying," she thought, "Does he like black because he was trained as an assassin to blend into the shadows or does he just like the damn color?"

"Okay," she said aloud, "Let's try something simpler. What's your favorite food?" "I think right now I'd have to say Mrs. Miller's Oatmeal Raisin cookies. They're really incredible," he replied. She smiled, triumphant. "See," she exclaimed, "That's all yours. That is, unless my feeding them to you and scavenging around sensitive places for crumbs influenced your decision." "Although I acknowledge your effect, I'd have to say that I'd love the cookies anyway," he responded. She nodded. "Great," she said, just getting warmed up, "What's your favorite book?" "You know that," he said, "The Count of Monte Cristo." "What's your favorite music?" she asked. He frowned. "That's hard," he replied, "It's a tie between Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade and Puff the Magic Dragon." She laughed as he'd intended. "Okay, smart ass," she said, "Now you're starting to play with me, aren't you." "Why would you think that?" he asked, a delicious smile curving his lips.

"So, I guess we've just had our first session of Nottingham Soul Searching 101," she said, "We can pick this up again tomorrow at breakfast. Speaking of which, what happened to the rest of that apple coffeecake?" "It's in the refrigerator," he replied, "Want me to heat a couple of pieces for you?" "Yeah," she said, adding as an afterthought, "please." Sara finished her coffee and got up to get a refill. Ian got the pastry out of the fridge, cut Sara a couple of generous slices, and warmed them in the microwave. They were bumping around each other in the tiny kitchen until Ian pulled her into his arms, saying, "You never did kiss me good morning, you know." Sara put her mug on the counter and slid here arms around his neck. "As a habit, I don't kiss men that are dancing around with swords," she replied, "Just one of those strong personality quirks of mine."

"No sword now," he said, rubbing noses with her. She pushed her pelvis forward against his groin and felt the immediate startled quiver of his response through the thin silk pants. "I guess that's a matter of opinion," she said, laughing. "Stop," he said, his cheeks flushed, "Lazar could come at any time." "That would be a good trick," she said, grinning. He looked shocked for a moment at her sacrilege. Then, he shook his head and moved back to sit at the table again. "Okay," he said, "I give up. Forget the morning kiss." She put her coffee and pastry at her place before moving around the table to sit on his lap and slip her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry, baby," she apologized, "You're just such fun to tease. You're so cute when you're frustrated." He snorted. "Then I should be cute most of the time," he replied. "You are," she said, leaning in to kiss him. He pulled her tight against him, deepening the kiss.

When she pulled back, she planted a light kiss on his forehead and said, "Now let me up so that I can eat my coffeecake." He released her and she went back to her chair. Once there, she gleefully dug into Mrs. Miller's excellent pastry. Ian finished his tea. He said, "I know that I don't stand a chance competing with coffee and pastry for your attention so I'm going to go get a shower." Mouth full, Sara waved a regal hand in his direction. He smiled and put his empty cup in the sink before heading for the bathroom. Left alone with her thoughts, Sara pondered what Ian had said about finding himself amid all the conflicts that had formed him. "He's come a long way," she thought, "But he's still got a helluva journey ahead of him before he becomes his own man, if he ever does."

She was on her third cup of coffee and still lost in her thoughts when Ian came back to the kitchen. His wet hair was slicked back off of his face and held tightly with a band. He'd changed into black sweats and was still barefoot. He tried to squeeze past her chair to grab the empty coffeepot so he could wash it. She pushed back her chair, trapping him against the counter. She tilted back her head to rest it against his stomach and inhaled deeply. "God, you smell good," she breathed. He leaned forward to kiss her upside down. "And you taste good," he responded, "Coffeecake lips." He straightened up and she let him pass. "Yeah," she said, "Well, soon it's going to be coffeecake hips unless I start getting some exercise again too."

"I have an answer for that," he said, "It's your cabin treat for the day." "I've got it," she said, "You're going to lock me in the bedroom and make frantic monkey love to me until the calories melt away." He smiled. "That actually sounds a lot better than what I had planned," he replied, "Let's go with that." "No, no," she said, "I'm sorry. Tell me your surprise." "I brought a punching bag and gloves for you. I'm going to hang the bag up in the corner over by the bookcases for you this morning," he said, "What do you think?" "I think that you are wonderful and that you may get a bit of that monkey love tonight anyway if you play your cards right," she responded. "I'm not really sure what that means," he said, "But I'm willing to learn." "Thank you, baby," she said, standing and kissing his cheek, "You really are very good to me. I'm going to go get my shower now and get dressed."

An hour later, Sara came out of the bedroom after having showered and changed into burgundy sweats. Her wet hair was pulled back into a long, tight braid. She'd also unpacked as much of the contents of her suitcases as would fit into the meager drawer and closet space afforded by the cabin. She found that Ian had almost finished installing the punching bag for her. She grinned at the bag, her hands forming into fists that itched to hit it. "It's going to take a while to break in a new pair of gloves," she said. "No need," he replied, "I have your gloves." She frowned. "I keep my gloves at the precinct to use in the gym there," she said. "I know," he said, "I got them from Danny." She shook her head. "You have been a busy boy, haven't you," she said, "It must be all those little lists that you make." "They help," he said, smiling.

"There's something else that I've got to do to make this place seem more like home," Sara said, going to the table by the front door. Ian watched her pick up a towel-wrapped bundle from the table. She walked to the mantle above the fireplace and cleared space right in the middle. She carefully unwrapped the towel and removed first the betrothal wreath of dried flowers saved from their engagement night. She placed it gently at the center of the mantel. Next, she placed the statue of Sehren at the center of the wreath. She touched the head of the goddess with one fingertip and said, "Bring us luck and victory, my Sister." "Amen to that," he said.

He started to walk back to her when he let out a little yelp and lifted his foot up off the floor. She couldn't help but snicker. He looked like an unhappy stork with one bare foot up in the air. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Scrabble tiles – they're all over the floor here," he replied. Their eyes met as they both remembered how the tiles had gotten there. "I'll pick them up later," he said, his voice having dropped into a lower, sexy register with the memories that were now running through his head. "That's what you said last time," she teased, her voice matching his. Now he grinned, "Yeah, well, you distracted me." She grinned back at him, "Is that what you call it?"

Ian was moving toward her, his eyes glowing dark amber with desire, his intention clear, when Lazar appeared between them. He glanced from one to the other and frowned. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked.

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-5
VF Version: 2.94, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2008 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.