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Date Posted: 22:16:07 09/22/03 Mon
Author: Spin
Subject: Chapter Seventy-one
In reply to: Spin 's message, "Revelation" on 22:34:06 05/20/02 Mon

~*~

After unlocking the door, Jake ushered Sara into his apartment. He placed her bag near the couch, and disappeared into his bedroom. “Jake, I really do appreciate this.” Sara called out. He returned to the living room with a pillow and a blanket for her. “It’s no problem, Pez. We’re partners, I got your back and you got mines. And,” he started while spreading out the blanket onto the couch, “Due to recent events, I feel even better that you’re here.” Sara only grinned, not wanting to talk about what happened at her apartment.

It took almost an hour to settle the situation at her apartment. News had traveled fast because in a matter of moments, Dante had arrived on the scene. Constantly questioning about what happened. Sara could tell that Dante wasn’t quite buying the B&E scenario both she and Jake described but they were going to stick by it. There was even a point where Dante had tried to blame the incident on Sara. But like always, Jake played mediator, coming to his partner’s rescue.

“Things went down like we said it did. Perp broke in, but it was too dark we couldn’t see his face. I got a few shots out before he managed to escape.” Sara stood quiet the whole time, but her eyes were narrowed on Dante.

“It’s a good thing McCarty was here with you. Who knows what might have happened to you, Petzini.”

Sara’s brow rose at Dante’s veiled threat, “Yeah, lucky me.” Sara retorted.

“You better be more careful there, Petzini. Or else your luck just might run out.” Dante added with a smirk on his face. ‘Smug bastard,’ Sara thought as she watched him leave.

“Jake? Is that you?” A female voice called out from his bedroom.

Jake turned around and ran into the room. He greeted the woman just coming out from the bathroom. “Hey there,” he wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a kiss on the cheek, “Come on I want to introduce you to my partner.” He said, guiding her back to the living room and explaining that Sara was going to be staying for awhile. Sara dropped her stuff onto the couch when she heard footsteps enter the living room.

“Hey Pez, I want you to meet my friend, Natasha Marion.” Jake started. Sara turned around and was shock to see the resemblance. The face, hair, eyes, everything about her screamed Nottingham. Jake was oblivious to Sara’s disbelieving expression and finished the introductions, “This is my partner, Detective Sara Pezzini.”

Tasha on the other hand could not dismiss the speculative stare. She stuck her hand out and said, “It’s, uh, nice to meet you, Detective Pezzini.”

It took Sara a moment before she realized that she was only starting. “Ah, I’m sorry,” Sara shook her head slightly to recompose herself, “I didn’t mean to stare. You just remind me…”

“Of someone,” Tasha nodded her head, “Yeah been getting that lately. You’re the second person that has said that to me actually. Don’t worry about it.” She smiled, waving away the awkward moment.

“Well, its nice to meet you Natasha. You can call me Sara if you want.”

Tasha smiled, “Okay. So, Jake tells me that you’ll be staying here for a while?”

Sara nodded her head, “Yeah, but it’s just for a couple of days. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Tasha shook her head vehemently, “Don’t worry about it. Besides, it will give me a chance to make some new friends.”

“I’ve heard from Jake that you’ve just recently moved from England.”

Jake happily watched, as both women seemed to be getting along with each other. He excused himself, saying that he was going to take shower. Sara and Natasha sat down on the couch, talking about each other. Both seemed to enjoy the other’s company. Natasha leaned back against the arm of the couch, finishing up her explanation on her decision to move to New York.

“What about your parents? Do you have any sisters or …brothers?” Sara was curious, especially about having any brothers. She couldn’t quite pass the overwhelming resemblance between Natasha and Ian. Then again, it could all be just a coincidence.

Natasha hung her head. It was painful for her to relive her past, but she was surprised how easy it felt to tell this complete stranger about herself. “My parents are dead. My mother passed away a couple of years ago, and my father died in a car crash when I was only two. Technically I’m an only child.”

Sara’s brows rose up suspiciously, “Technically?”

Natasha bit her lip and looked over her shoulder, over to the bedroom. She could still hear the shower running. She turned back and leaned forward, “Promise me you won’t tell Jake?” Sara nodded her head.

“I’ve been telling people that I’m an only child only because that’s what I’ve been thought to say. The truth is I had an older brother.”

“What happened?”

“He died in the car accident along with my father. My mother didn’t like talking about him much, it brought up too many painful memories. I tried asking my grandmother Celeste, about him but she has a hard time talking about it too. So, I just let it go. It’s not like I can bring him back anyway.”

Sara reached over to give Natasha’s hand a reassuring squeeze, “I’m so sorry.” Natasha waved it away, not bothering to hide the tear trickling down her face. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago. I mean I barely remember him but even at two years old I knew I loved him.” She laughed while she wiped away her tears, “I don’t even know why I told you that. You’re like the only person I’ve told this to.”

Sara smiled, “Sometimes talking to a complete stranger kind of helps, I guess. I appreciate it you telling me and don’t worry I won’t tell anyone.”

Natasha nodded her head, “Thanks.”

There was a moment of silence before Sara asked, “So, your grandmother Celeste. Is she?”

Natasha beamed, “Oh she’s very much alive. She’s my only living relative.”

“Does she live in England?”

“Yes, she does.”

The gears in Sara’s mind started turning. Memories from her dreams resurfaced but before she had a chance to ask more questions Jake reappeared. “Hey, Pez. The shower is free if you want to use it.”

Natasha looked over to the clock on the wall, “Oh my, it’s getting late. I better get to bed and let you go. I’m sure you’re tired and just want to get some sleep. It was nice chatting with you, Sara.” She slowly stood up from the couch.

“It was nice talking to you too, Natasha.”

“Good-night, see you in the morning.” Natasha said and disappeared into the spare bedroom, Jake in tow.

Sara gathered her things and headed for the bathroom. While taking a quick shower, Sara could not help but wonder about Natasha’s grandmother, Celeste. Could she be the same woman she had seen in her dream? But how could it be. Natasha’s last name was Marion not Nottingham. Then again, she could be taking up her mother’s maiden name. Then there was the unfortunate death of her parents and older brother. Therefore, Ian couldn’t really be Natasha’s brother. Sara had so many questions but no answers. ‘No surprise there,’ she thought.

Sara pushed the questions aside for the time being. She only had enough information to speculate. And the fact that she knew next to nothing about Ian didn’t help her much. Sara leaned her body against the tiled wall, the hot spray pounding against her body. She stood there thinking about Ian.

…If you really want to find him, Sara. Use the Witchblade…

She didn’t know how long she stood there, but the water had gone cold. Sara turned off the shower and dried herself off with a large towel. After changing into her pajamas, Sara headed back to the living room. She slipped under the blanket and lie down. She didn’t sleep right away, the words, ‘Use the Witchblade,’ constantly ran through her mind. The stone of the blade did nothing but sit quietly on her wrist. After a disappointed sigh, Sara closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep.

Sara tossed and turned, her sleep once again being plagued with visions brought upon by the Witchblade. Sara approached the door and tested the knob. She looked down at the blade for any indication of danger. It glowed a soft hue, urging her to open the door. Finally, she did and in the room, she was surprised to find Ian in bed.

She ran to his side, gently sitting down at the edge of the bed. “Ian,” softly calling out his name. “Ian, it’s Sara.” She tried again, when he didn’t stir from his sleep. Panic quickly engulfed her senses. It was only then did she realize the bruises and cuts that covered his body. “Oh God, Ian. I’m so sorry,” she started crying. Her tears silently running down her face, falling on top of his bruised torso. Gently with her right hand, she started to trace over his wounds. First, the large gash over his right eyebrow.

Sara gasped as she passed over the wound, and in its wake, the wound had completely healed. Not even a scar was visible. She tried again, this time passing over a bruise on his face. It disappeared. She continued down his body, a sharp gasp escaped from his lips as her hand ran over his chest, down over his broken ribs.

Sara was so absorbed with healing Ian; she didn’t see him open his eyes. He raised his hand to cup Sara’s cheek, pulling her out of her concentration. She jumped at his touch but did not pull away. No words were said between the two. She smiled through her tears, Ian doing the same. She pushed aside the loose strands covering his face, and then caressed his cheek. Ian closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. His lips brushed over the inside of her palm.

“Sara,” he whispered against her hand. He opened his eyes and reached out to capture her face between his hands. He did nothing but caress her face, not once urging her to do something she was not ready for. Ian was surprised when she moved her hand to lightly rest on his chest, and she slowly leaned down. He watched as her eyes darted between his lips and his eyes. “Sara?” Ian asked, unsure if this is what she really wanted.

“Yes,” she said, answering Ian’s unspoken question just before she kissed him.

It wasn’t the clumsy, tentative first kiss one would share between someone new. It was those of two lovers so familiar with each other. Their mouths moved, their tongues caressed, and their teeth nipped. What started out as a kiss of acceptance and approval, quickly turned into a means of telling the other how much they have longed for this moment.

Lifetimes apart were far too long to starve the need that only the other could satiate. Ian sat up in bed as Sara moved to straddle over his hips, not once breaking their heated kiss. Sara’s arms wrapped around his neck, the same time his arms curled around her body. Both were surprised that she sat there naked on his lap, her clothes seemingly had melted away. Her bare body fully exposed to Ian’s rough, seeking hands. Goosebumps formed in its wake as he touched, and stroke every inch of her body.

Sara moaned into his mouth as his hands trailed up to cup both breasts. She ripped her mouth from his, both breathing heavily. She stared into his eyes, silently pleading what she wanted, what they both wanted. Sara could feel his arousal hard beneath her. Teasingly she started grinded her hips against him. “Sara…” he groaned out her name. Ian reached down to stop the enticing movements of her hips.

“Ian please,” she audibly begged, “Please.”

All that separated the two from completion was a thin sheet that covered the lower half of his body. Ian lifted Sara slightly off his lap and yanked away the obstructive material aside. Now, nothing stood in their way. Ian rolled Sara onto her back, slowly easing his weight into her. Both gasped as finally two destinies became one. Sara keened out his name as his movements above her started to quicken. They hung on to each other tightly as Ian drove them closer and further over the edge. Their voices cried out filling the emptiness around them. Their names being echoed back.

Spent, they lay there in their bed entangled and joined. Neither one knowing where one started and the other ended. It did not matter either because they were together now. Just as it should be. Ian rolled over onto his back, pulling Sara with him. They closed their eyes content for the first time in who knows how long. Sara sighed, her head resting on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep.

Then the dream suddenly took a cruel turn. The warmth that had surrounded them was replaced with an icy chill. They were no longer on a bed but on cold, solid marbled floor. Sara’s head still rested on Ian’s chest, but she realized it no longer raised and fall as he breathe. She couldn’t even hear the beating of his heart. A rush of dread coursed through her body as she lifted her head.

Sara started crying, tears streaming down her face. “No,” she whispered. Ian’s face was pale, cold, and lifeless. Blood from his mouth and nose flowed down, pooling onto the floor. “Ian!?” She called out, rigorously shaking his shoulders, hoping to coax him back to life. Through her tears, she noticed a large wound, centered on his chest. The wound reminder her of how Conchobar died. A sword through the chest.

Sara felt something tapping her shoulder. She turned only to be faced with the tip of a sword. She ran her eyes up the blade to see who was wielding it. Kenneth Irons. A smug smirk etched into his demonic face. Sara called out to the Witchblade but when she looked down to her wrist, it was gone. It had abandoned her. “Looking for this?” Kenneth said, showing her that the blade was on his wrist.

“Oh God,” she whispered, still clutching on to Ian’s dead body.

“Not quite my dear.” Irons arrogantly replied. Sara reached for her side arm but found the holster empty.

“Why delay the inevitable, Sara? Don’t you want to join your friends?” Kenneth motioned around the room. She then realized the other bodies that littered the floor. Gabriel, Natasha, Jake, and Faith. They were all there, dead. “No!” she screamed repeatedly.

“Good-bye, Sara.” Irons swiped down with the Witchblade.

Sara bolted up, her arms flaying out, grabbing a hold onto the couch. She wiped away the sheen of sweat on her face with a shaky hand. Pushing aside wisps of hair that were matted to her forehead.

“Hey you okay?”

Sara looked up to see Tasha standing at the end of the couch. Familiar amber eyes stared back at her, full with concern. Before answering, Sara took a couple of deep breaths to calm her racing heartbeat. “I’m…fine.” She exhaled, “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

Natasha shook her head, “Actually, I was already awake. I just came down to make some tea. Would you like some? It might help.” She suggested.

“I could go for some coffee instead.”

“Sure thing. I’ll get started on it.” Natasha walked off towards the kitchen. After a few more minutes to regain her composure, Sara pushed the blanket aside and stood up a bit unsteadily. After another minute, she padded bare foot into the kitchen. She inhaled the welcoming scent of coffee then stared making her way over to the counter. Natasha stopped her and instructed her to sit down. “I got it, Sara.”

After it was done Tasha poured a cup for Sara and handed it to her. She sat in the opposite side of the table, sipping her tea. Sara blew at the hot liquid and carefully took a sip of the coffee. “Better?” Natasha asked. Sara nodded her head in response. “Thanks, Natasha.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Sara stared into her coffee unable to explain what her dream was about. Even she had a difficult time figuring it out. What did it all mean? Besides the obvious parts of it, of course. How could she tell Natasha that she was killed, along with everyone else she knew, in her dream? What role did this woman play in her life? They just met for crying out loud.

Then it left the open question, ‘What happened?’ What events had taken place to have lead everyone to his or her demise? Why had the blade abandon her for Kenneth Irons? The questions swirled in her mind, giving her a headache. Ultimately, Sara just shook her head no.

Natasha nodded her head and quickly changed the subject, “So, who’s Ian?”

Sara’s head snapped up, “What…why do you ask?”

“I heard you calling out his name earlier.” Natasha smiled at Sara who was blushing.

“You…you heard me?” Sara asked wide-eyed and embarrassed. Self-consciously she looked over her shoulder over to Jake’s closed bedroom.

Natasha laughed, “Don’t worry about Jake. He’s a pretty sound sleeper. I would take a lot to wake him up. Besides, you weren’t that loud. You were just mumbling his name in your sleep. That’s all.”

Sara buried her flushed face into her hands, shaking her head. The memories of the dream were still very fresh in her mind. She still could feel his touch; taste him on her mouth, and the way his body moved with her. Sara could feel her cheeks getting much warmer.

“So, who is he? Boyfriend? Lover?” Natasha curiously watched as she sipped her tea.

“He’s a….he’s…. complicated.”

“What’s complicated? Either you like him or you don’t.”

“Come on partner stop fooling yourself already.” Danny appeared, standing behind Natasha.

Sara sighed, “Ian is…he’s,” she paused remembering the dreams from last night and earlier, “He’s someone I’ve grown to care for greatly.” And that was all she said. Apparently, it was enough for both Danny and Natasha. Yet, both could tell there was more to just ‘caring’ but they weren’t going to press the issue. Danny disappeared and Natasha changed the subject.

“Is that his ring?” Natasha motioned to the necklace.

“May I?” Sara nodded her head.

Natasha moved over to inspect the ring in her hand. “Its beautiful,” letting her fingers run over the intricate design, “I’ve seen something like this before. My grandmother’s older brother had worn a ring like this.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Natasha started as if she was in some trance, “I’ve seen some of the pictures. I remember it because it had a blue stone just like this.” She ran her finger over the stone. It swirled to the touch and captivated her attention. Sara recognized that dazed look in Natasha’s eyes; she was in a vision. It did not take long before Natasha started blinking and shaking her head.

Sara curiously stared at Natasha waiting to see if she’d tell her what just happened. They didn’t get the chance when Jake showed up still half asleep. “Morning guys,” he yawned, “What’s up?”

Sara and Natasha shared a knowing look but said nothing more to each other. “I better go change. Got a lot of errands I need to take care of.” Tasha rushed off to her room.

“Yeah, well I’m going to change and get ready for work.” Sara said. She grabbed her stuff and disappeared into the bathroom. Jake watched as both women left him standing alone in the kitchen.

~*~

Faith winced as she slip the ubiquitous gloves on. She flexed and curled her fingers stretching out the stiffness of the leather. Careful of her left hand, favoring it because of the gash across the palm. A wound inflicted up by Sara’s partner, Jake. She picked up the bullet, rolling it around on her hand. If she had not been fast enough and caught the bullet who knows if she’d be alive right now.

Faith placed the bullet into her coat pocket. Intending to return it to Agent McCarty. ‘He shot at me,’ Faith irritably reflected, ‘That idiot shot at me.’ Pushing the thought aside, Faith made her way out of the apartment. After a shower and a new set of clean clothes, Faith was ready to take on yet another day. She sat in her car and waited for the garage doors to open. While waiting, she stared at her gloved hands.

She loathed wearing the damn things. They were only reminders of what they represented.

.…Always remember - the less emotional attachment you have, the less vulnerable you'll be. Isolation is safety….

Being a naïve child pining for a father’s affection and acceptance, she had believed him then. Yet, as she grew older Faith understood. Control. It’s always about control. Faith wrapped her hand tightly around the stirring wheel. Not only did they represent control, but also it brought back painful memories of what she was made to become. A lethal and loyal warrior. An extension of her father’s dominating hand.

‘No more,’ Faith thought as she shook herself back to reality. ‘Nope, not any more Father.” She put the car into gear and drove off. Ready to face the new day.

~*~

“Don’t move. Don’t even breathe.” Dr. Immo instructed as he inserts the needle near the outer corner of Irons’ left eye. Nottingham stood behind Irons, complete abhorrence covered his face as he held his master’s face between his hands. Slowly, Immo injected what little blood he was able to obtain from the washcloth into Irons. He pulls out the syringe the same time Nottingham releases his hold.

The serum started to work the moment they stepped back. The signs of aging took a reversal affect. Irons, no longer an old man, returned to his normal self. He rises from his chair and raises his arms, “Behold,” he yells, “Time runs two ways.”

Immo stands there amazed, “Ponce de Leon's own grail. I still can't believe it.”

Irons walked over to Immo and grabbed his shoulders, “Believe!”

“Ian!” Irons walks over to the clone that had been standing near the spiral staircase, unimpressed by what had just transpired. Irons wrapped his arm around Nottingham’s shoulders, “Though I was rather disappointed that you failed to bring me Sara Pezzini. I will give you another chance. Bring her to me,” Irons paused then added, “Dead or alive.”

A slow ominous smile formed on Nottingham’s lips. He walked over to a table and picked up Dr. Immo’s scalpel. This time he was more then willing to do his master’s bidding. “Yes, master.” He nodded and immediately left the room.

~*~

Despite Jake’s protest of releasing their only witness, Sara escorted Charlene out of the precinct. She turned to the younger woman and said, “Look, you stay low, out of sight. I may need you to come forward ...” Charlene pursed her lips, resolutely shaking her head, especially after the brief encounter with the cop that had killed Prospero. “No, I told you….”

“Look, I will only contact you when I can guarantee your safety. Otherwise, I will leave you alone. Do you believe me?” Searching the young woman’s eyes.

Charlene sighed, “Yeah.”

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