Instinct - Chapter Three -- Witchblade Karma

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Date Posted: 09:12:44 05/24/02 Fri
Author: moondreamer
Subject: Instinct - Chapter Three
In reply to: moondreamer 's message, "Instinct" on 11:51:56 05/22/02 Wed

Chapter 3

Same Disclaimer

A/N: Everyone thank Spin for making Ian offerings to my muses. I also want to send thanks for the nice critiquing emails � feedback is always appreciated. To address a few of them: 1) Yes, I do seem to have written about Ian�s toes in not only one other fic piece but also several others. Anyone at the convention want to get me a picture of Eric�s toes and I will openly admit to my fetish? (Ooohhh! How about an autographed picture of Eric�s toes�really Mr. Etebari she won�t kill any kitties with this picture, I swear!). 2) I do apologize for the ending of Chapter Two. You are right! That was not the smoothest ending paragraph I ever created � but I plead need to post before I left work. 3) I do also admit that yes, naked baths with Ian also figure largely in my fantasies. Don�t worry about it � just enjoy! (Frankly, if they don�t figure in yours�I�ll worry about you! )

Sara sat next to Ian on the bed. She tried, but she really couldn�t come up with another way to try to help lower Ian�s body temperature. Other than trying to get some aspirin down his unconscious throat she just didn�t know what else to do. Even then, she didn�t know if aspirin would even help him. Who knew what his body�s reaction to the drug would be? Sara couldn�t really remember all that Vicky had told her about the super-charged Black Dragon brains. She just didn�t feel that this extreme, blazing heat was good for him. As far as trying to cool him down; isn�t this what she kept seeing in the movies? �Great, home health care courtesy of Hollywood.� Sara shook her head as she spoke. Maybe some type of toddy would also help him rest easier.

Leaving him alone on the bed Sara stood and headed towards her kitchen. As always, she felt better when there was action to be taken. She rooted around in her cupboards, trying to find the bottle of whiskey she used to keep for her Dad when he would come over. Next was the honey, and finally, after successfully looking through her fridge, a lemon that didn�t look to be in too bad of shape. Standing over her stove she began to mix all the ingredients together. The last time she had done this she had been sick and she didn�t really remember the proportions. But, winging it seemed to be the name of the game tonight. Sara raised the spoon to her lips and tasted her concoction.

�Maybe a bit more honey.� She mused. Actually, this was not bad at all. Maybe she would have one along with Ian. The way her brain was spinning, this may be the only way she was going to get any rest tonight either. Sara poured the fragrant heated mixture into two mugs and walked back into the bedroom where she set them down on her nightstand. Ian didn�t appear to have moved. He still lay quietly. Sara felt a frisson of feeling travel up her spine at the sight of him, so helpless, in her bed. She realized that she didn�t want to examine that feeling too closely and moved quickly into the bathroom.

Gathering up some towels, a sponge, and a basin of cool water she gathered up her courage and walked back towards her bed and the man who laid there waiting for her. Afraid that strong light would hurt his eyes, Sara turned the bedside lamp on low. She took up her mug of whiskey toddy and took a quick gulp to steady her suddenly shaking hands. The whiskey was smooth, and the honey and lemon lent it a sweet and mellow tang. It felt wonderful on her parched throat.

Carefully raising Ian�s head she rested him against her chest while she raised the mug to his lips. Murmuring soft nothings to him she poured a little of the warm mixture down his throat; waiting to see if his unconscious reflexes would force him to swallow. Sara was pleased when his body responded and the mixture slid down his throat. She watched as his exposed adams apple moved in his throat. Surprising herself, she raised a gentle hand and stroked the soft skin there, feeling the firm cartilage beneath. She gave him a little more of the toddy and then laid his head back down on the pillow.

Gathering up the sponge and a towel Sara turned to face her next challenge. She dipped the sponge in the basin of cool water and squeezed it out gently. The sound of the drops falling from the sponge back to the basin seemed overly loud to Sara�s agitated senses. She grasped the sponge tightly and began to jerkily stroke it down Ian�s bare chest.

Sara held her breath yet again as she waited to see if Ian would react. He seemed to sigh gently but otherwise didn�t stir. She relaxed a little and her strokes became more soothing. Soon she established a smooth rhythm. Dip, squeeze, stroke. Dip, squeeze, stroke. Once again her sense of time and focus narrowed to this small corner of her world. Sara watched as droplets of cool water glistened like jewels in the curly hair on Ian�s chest. She really began to look at Ian, as he lay exposed before her. Seeing with new eyes the texture of his skin and the many scars it bore. His physique and upper body definition was absolutely amazing. Sara stroked the sponge down his arms and hands. Watching the play of muscle and sinew as she manipulated the sponge.

Sara lifted the towel and dried the moisture off of Ian�s neck and chest. It may have been her imagination but he did seem to be a bit cooler. Sara saw that she had practically soaked the waistband of his pants and gave in to the inevitable. Reaching down she put her hands on the buckle of his black leather belt. Her fingers brushed over his navel and the fine hairs on his abdomen tickled her hand. How hard it was for her to believe that everything on this man that she had touched, his skin, his face, the hair on his body, all of it was so soft, so gentle. It seemed such a contrast to her impressions of him.

After undoing his belt, Sara carefully undid the button of his pants and then, fumbling slightly, she found the tab of his zipper and pulled it down. The noise echoed in Sara�s head and seemed so loud she quickly looked up to Ian�s face to see if it had disturbed him. Her hands started to shake as she started to slide his pants down his hips. Suddenly, she stopped, gasping. Where was his underwear? Oh my god! Sara thought. Ian wasn�t wearing any underwear! She had thought to herself that she would remove his pants and leave him in his underwear while she completed his sponge bath. But this was definitely unexpected!

�Well, well, Mr. Nottingham. Got dressed in a bit of a hurry today? Or just didn�t have time for laundry.� Sara laughed nervously as the scene from the movie The Terminator came to her distracted mind. Where Arnold had just arrived in the past and was facing the gang youths naked. What was that line? Oh yes, �Laundry day, nothing clean right?�

�I guess your mother never told you to be sure you were wearing clean underwear in case you ended up in the hospital did she?�

There seemed to be no subtle way to handle this. Sara moved his pants further down his hips and looked towards his feet as she finished removing them. She stood and shook them out slightly before folding them and placing them next to his sweater. She really should see about washing them so that he would have clean clothes when he needed to get dressed again.

Clearing her throat, Sara turned back to face Ian. When she was younger she had seen pictures in a book of Michelangelo�s Pieta. The beauty and the power of the Christ figure lying in Mary�s arms had stayed with her always. Now, she gazed upon a living man that Michelangelo would have killed to have the chance to sculpt. Ian lay naked and vulnerable to Sara�s probing eyes. And she thought his feet were well shaped and attractive! Blushing furiously, Sara sat back down and picked back up the sponge.

She continued to soothe the cooling water over his body. Catching the droplets that ran down his body with the towel as needed. Feeling more confident that he wouldn�t wake up Sara had long ago given up on trying not to satisfy her curiosity; looking her fill at his attractive form. Sara knew she would never be able to look at Ian as inhuman ever again. He was definitely all man, and her body responded to his, even as the new knowledge weighed heavily upon her thoughts.

After what seemed hours of excruciating torture Sara felt confident that her efforts had not been in vain. Ian�s flesh was noticeably cooler and he was no longer restless. Placing her hand on his forehead she thought he might even be in a natural sleep. She had alternated between drinking the whiskey toddy and pouring it down his throat and she was now drowsy and tired; the adrenaline rush having left her body long ago. She looked longing at her bed and then around her loft. There really wasn�t much option. He was unconscious and she was tired. Besides, how else would she know if he awoke?

Too tired to put everything away, Sara pulled the sheet up over Ian and lay carefully down beside him on top of the sheet. She pulled the rest of her covers up around her ears and rested her head on the pillow beside his. At first she didn�t think she would be able to sleep but then, as Ian�s scent and warmth reached her, she felt an overwhelming sense of peace sweep over her; lulling her into slumber with the sound of his gentle breaths. Reaching out at the last minute before sleep overtook her, she turned out the lamp beside the bed; cloaking them in a gentle darkness, broken only by the warm, crimson glow of The Witchblade on her wrist.

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Any thing dealing with Ian figures nicely into my fantasies... -- Spin, 02:13:46 05/25/02 Sat