The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade. Everything else is just hearsay and rumors.
Long *ss A/N:
Thank you MsLessa, Thelma, dracula 13, redmayne (I can empathize with yowling kitty torment. I believe my little monster fancies herself an opera singer), Junipers_Goblet, roguegal ((hugs)) and Fae Rain ((hugs)) for the wonderful feedback. It's a relief to know people are actually laughing rather than just wondering if I'm completely mental. ^_^
Thank you, Selena and Dragongirrl, for the cool suggestions. I hope I've not completely warped them out of control.
IrishRavenX! Hee! You are crazy funny and I love it! I'm afraid there will be no revenge for Ian, though. :( It would turn into an endless circle, dragging this little jaunt out for ages. I just have WAY too much going on with tenebrous and I'm itching to get back to it.
I think I've managed to cover everyone's requests (In some form or other). Whew!. When I counted them, however, there were thirteen, not counting identical suggestions (shower scenes do seem to be popular). Since I'm not fond of that number I decided to up it by adding a couple of my own ideas, rather than leave any out.
Unfortunately, this involved setting some muses loose. One was bizarre, yet fairly harmless. The other... Well, let's just say I had to hack out and alter some stuff before I felt comfortable uploading. I had dire concerns about readers crying murder.
WonderBeta Roguegal17 is back with a vengeance for your reading pleasure (She's even donned her superheroine lycra costume), making my twitterings a cleaner, smoother experience. She did suggest I put the nefarious 'tent' incident back in, but she is braver than I.
I MAY post the original scandalous version on the WC board, since it is easier to edit quickly if anyone complains. The lag time here is so extreme, that nearly everyone reading this category might be appalled before I could fix the damage.
I apologize for any and all mistreatment of characters and outright heinousness.
***Denotes switch in Point of view
poisson d'avril ch 10 *****************************
The Blade was now showing the assassin hauling two unwieldy lumps of cloth into what looked like the Mansion's garage. "Are those... It looks like he's carrying bodies," Gabriel gasped. The other half of his brain smacked him for being so shocked. All those weapons were for killing, weren't they? Danny and Sara were eyeing the screen closely. The lumps of cloth did indeed, resemble corpses.
"He'll never fit them both in that box without hacking them up," Danny stated morbidly, completely ignoring the fact that he was a homicide cop.
They all watched the assassin carefully wedge one burden into a packing crate while grumbling incoherently about Irons and his temper. Like gawkers at a car accident, all three craned their necks to see if Nottingham could fit two bodies in a box that barely contained one. What ensued was inexplicably comical despite its atrocity.
Nottingham was wrestling with what, (through the cloth) looked like wayward arms and legs. Every time he managed to stuff a limb in, another popped out, Invariably smacking some part of his anatomy. At one point, Gabriel and Danny both winced in sympathy.
After furiously throwing his arms up in surrender, Nottingham disappeared from view. Returning with his arms full of plants, he began shoving them in between what the trio believed to be lumps of arms and legs.
"What the hell?" Danny whispered, furrowing his brows in confusion. Nottingham had completed the bizarre 'crate o' bodies cum plant container' just before a man carrying a pair of hedge trimmers stepped into view.
"You wanted to see me, Mr. Nottingham?" the man queried as he eyed the unseemly sculpture with disdain.
"Yes, I need you to find an unobtrusive location for Mr. Irons latest garden acquisition," Ian stated smoothly.
The gardener eyed the crate with a look that was nothing short of horror. "He bought this?" the gardener gasped, unable to restrain his dismay at the ugly purchase which, looked as if it were saluting him.
"Yes," the assassin affirmed. "Unfortunately Mr. Irons has fallen prey to the newest gardening trend in raised beds. Supposedly, the unwieldy potting mixture not only provides interesting angles to the planting surface, but is an excellent fertilizer as well," Nottingham explained.
When the gardener cast him a disbelieving look, he merely rolled his eyes. "Just throw some mulch over the weeding cloth and be glad he restrained himself from purchasing the pink flamingo lawn ornaments," the assassin griped.
With a shudder of revulsion at the thought of tacky lawn ornaments littering the estate's landscape, the gardener duly accepted his task and hustled off to get one of the bobcats that were so fun to drive.
"And set it downwind from the estate. I'm under the impression that the potting material can become a bit rank." Nottingham called after the man. *** Ian gaped in disbelief. Was Irons deliberately trying to get him in trouble? Sure, he'd skimped on his duties once in a while, but he was a busy man. Now he'd have to acquire another crate and stash the mess elsewhere before Sara came busting in with a warrant. Crap. *** "Unbelievable," Detective Woo muttered, shaking his head.
"Well that was an interesting solution," Sara commented, not quite knowing what to make of Nottingham's combination of ingenuity and sheer brass.
For some reason, Gabriel found the entire exchange between the gardener and assassin wildly hysterical, stifling snorts of laughter between each repartee. *** Ian didn't know whether to be relieved or upset that the two detectives seemed more interested in continuing to watch videos than solving murders. Moreover, he didn't understand why Bowman found his dilemma so damn funny. He definitely needed to pay the cheeky imp a visit before the day was done. *** The scene had switched once again and Nottingham was now performing some rudimentary Katas.
"Hmm, his form's not bad," Danny noted, distracted from his thoughts on the corpses. As Nottingham began to increase the speed and difficulty of his movements, however, the detective noticed the man starting to lose his center. "He's rushing it though," he added, just before the assassin thrust his knee a little too swiftly, knocking his Katana out of his hand and sending it sailing across the room.
Scowling, Nottingham retrieved his weapon from where it had lodged into a wall and resumed the set of movements after apologizing to Katrina. This time he'd made it past the balance of kicking and arching the blade simultaneously, but over-swung and nicked his ponytail. With a whimper from the assassin, a set of locks plopped to the floor.
"Mmmf?" Nottingham mewled mournfully as he retrieved his precious locks. Clutching the handful of hair in anger and dismay, He returned to his ill-fated Kata with fury.
"Uh oh," Danny murmured. Anger and controlled movements weren't an entirely good mix, especially while brandishing a sharp weapon. *** After hearing his apology to the katana, Ian could easily guess what was coming next. He remembered the disastrous routine with chagrin. His temper had been his undoing and his nicked hair had joined in the battle against him. He had made it through only a few movements before his shorn locks worked their way out from the confinement of the hair band and made a break for freedom.
Unfortunately, their liberation occurred in the middle of a very difficult and delicate maneuver. Suddenly blinded by the wayward locks, his performance ended with a physical display that emulated more of an 'addled albatross' than 'striking serpent'.
Hearing the riotous cachinnation in the precinct, Ian looked up from the meager security of his gloved hands to find Bowman performing what he hoped was an exaggeration of his blunder. The two detectives were too busy restraining their ribs to notice that their bedlam had attracted an audience. Several officers' faces were pressed to the office door window, trying to get a gander at what was causing all the hilarity. *** Sides hurting from laughing first at Nottingham's and then Gabriel's near exact mimicry of 'ballet gone bad', Sara gasped; "Wait," to the laptop. It had showed a brief snippet of Nottingham snuggling into bed after kissing a photo frame on his bed stand. With all the distractions, she had missed whom the photo was of. "What was that?" the Wielder demanded. But, ostensibly, the Blade didn't believe in rewind and had moved on to the next scene.
The current tableau consisted of Nottingham holding a glass of champagne at a swank dinner party, surrounded by four beautiful and elegant women.
As the socialites attention seemed to hang on every word of Nottingham's assessment of cultural and historical fighting techniques, Danny noticed Irons watching in the background, peevishly slitting his eyes in jealous irritation.
Sara was too busy being annoyed by the ridiculous way the women were fawning over the assassin to notice. Gabriel seemed to be caught between eyeing the blonde and mentally cross-referencing the assassin's conclusions.
Just as one of the women had moved in to become physically friendly - "You are so muscular. Have you practiced all of these fascinating techniques?" she cooed while stroking his arm. - Irons intervened.
"Oh, Ian, could you tell me the time?" Kenneth queried with a stifled smirk.
Automatically, Irons' bodyguard obeyed the implied command, promptly dumping champagne down his trousers as he flipped his wrist to check his watch.
The dark look on Nottingham's face as Kenny snickered in triumph while the women giggled at Ian's gullibility was not lost on the trio watching. Danny moaned out a; "I can't believe he fell for that," while shaking his head with a chuckle.
Sara snickered at Nottingham being taken down a notch and Gabriel, surprisingly barked; "That was rude!" in Nottingham's defense. "Oh, c'mon, Bowman. He fell for it AND he was being..." Sara partially retorted, at a loss for the right word now that she wasn't exactly sure what he had done to irritate her.
"Erudite?" Gabriel supplied.
"Um, yeah," Sara mumbled. *** Oh great, now the Bowman brat was sticking up for him. Every time he'd decided to punish the boy, he would pull something like this. Ian was beginning to wonder if the whippersnapper didn't have a 'beating' radar. *** The Blade seemed to be winding down, Sara noted, as the gem's swirl slowed on her wrist. Ian was tucked in bed with a glass of milk and a book lying in his lap.
"He sure seems to like milk," Sara remarked.
As the dangerous assassin raised the book to read, the band of onlookers hooted in unison. 'Snow White' was clearly emblazoned across the book cover with a cartoon illustration of the ingenue and her entourage of dwarves. *** Ian was wondering what Irons had filmed now. Surely drinking milk could not be that entertaining. He had snuck a couple swallows from the carton every once in a while, but didn't everyone? *** The threesome's tittering had calmed only to be renewed when Nottingham evidently came to a scary part in the story, accidentally spilling his milk with a gasp of dismay.
Performing an impressive leap in the hands of the distressed assassin, the evicted milk landed squarely on the assassin's forehead. Instead of getting up to clean himself, however, Nottingham simply licked the delicious drink from his mustache and smeared the rest evenly around his face before resuming his reading.
Maybe he decided to leave it on as a skin softener? Sara wondered. She used yogurt but supposed milk was fine as well.
"That was weird," Gabriel muttered.
"My wife does that kind of stuff," Danny stated, scrunching his brows and shaking his head slightly. "You'd be surprised at some of the weird things women do." *** Did Detective Woo just call him a Woman? Ian tilted the screen of his wireless, ridiculously trying to get a peek at what they were seeing. None of their comments made any sense and he was wondering what in the hell Irons had captured that made him come across as girly. *** As the two men continued their chat on the oddities of women, Nottingham yawned widely and tucked the book under his mattress. With a dreamy smile, he reached for the photo frame and placed a reverent kiss on it's facing.
Now it was Sara's turn to uselessly crane to see what was hidden by the angle. "Oh c'mon," she griped, dismayed that for the second time the Blade was denying her a view of the photo.
The amulet seemed to smirk in reply before showing Nottingham holding the image of Sara in a pose not dissimilar to a Betty Page pinup. The photo was of Sara bending down to pick up a fallen hair tie in her skivvies.
As the Wielder's face turned crimson (Whether from embarrassment or outrage is still in question), the two men beside her busted out laughing between hoots and hollers.
"Nice pose," Gabriel grinned, while Danny wheezed about Nottingham kissing her ass before going to bed. *** Kissing Sara's ass? What was he- ? Suddenly it dawned on him, the photo. How dare Irons put that on the internet! Ian was incensed! No, he was chagrined. Wait, no... he was terror-stricken. Sara was going to kill him for photographing her in her undergarments. Without thinking, the assassin's hand flew to his mouth. He worried his nails through the leather glove nervously while various expressions whizzed across the Wielder's face. *** Sara decided to push Nottingham's shenanigans to the back of her mind as she watched him settle into bed. Between the embarrassment of Ian kissing the risque photo and her warring thoughts, she wasn't sure if she should be flattered, appalled or angry.
As the screen faded to black, little kitten noises emanated from the assassin as he drifted off to sleep, inciting a final gigglefest from the gaggle in the precinct.
"Well, looks like the show's over," Sara announced as the screensaver kicked in and her bracelet swirled contentedly. She sent a mental; 'thanks for the show' to the surprisingly cooperative amulet and received a playful wink from the gem in return.
* -_~
Long *ss A/N:
Thank you MsLessa, Thelma, dracula 13, redmayne (I can empathize with yowling kitty torment. I believe my little monster fancies herself an opera singer), Junipers_Goblet, roguegal ((hugs)) and Fae Rain ((hugs)) for the wonderful feedback. It's a relief to know people are actually laughing rather than just wondering if I'm completely mental. ^_^
Thank you, Selena and Dragongirrl, for the cool suggestions. I hope I've not completely warped them out of control.
IrishRavenX! Hee! You are crazy funny and I love it! I'm afraid there will be no revenge for Ian, though. :( It would turn into an endless circle, dragging this little jaunt out for ages. I just have WAY too much going on with tenebrous and I'm itching to get back to it.
I think I've managed to cover everyone's requests (In some form or other). Whew!. When I counted them, however, there were thirteen, not counting identical suggestions (shower scenes do seem to be popular). Since I'm not fond of that number I decided to up it by adding a couple of my own ideas, rather than leave any out.
Unfortunately, this involved setting some muses loose. One was bizarre, yet fairly harmless. The other... Well, let's just say I had to hack out and alter some stuff before I felt comfortable uploading. I had dire concerns about readers crying murder.
WonderBeta Roguegal17 is back with a vengeance for your reading pleasure (She's even donned her superheroine lycra costume), making my twitterings a cleaner, smoother experience. She did suggest I put the nefarious 'tent' incident back in, but she is braver than I.
I MAY post the original scandalous version on the WC board, since it is easier to edit quickly if anyone complains. The lag time here is so extreme, that nearly everyone reading this category might be appalled before I could fix the damage.
I apologize for any and all mistreatment of characters and outright heinousness.
***Denotes switch in Point of view
poisson d'avril ch 10 *****************************
The Blade was now showing the assassin hauling two unwieldy lumps of cloth into what looked like the Mansion's garage. "Are those... It looks like he's carrying bodies," Gabriel gasped. The other half of his brain smacked him for being so shocked. All those weapons were for killing, weren't they? Danny and Sara were eyeing the screen closely. The lumps of cloth did indeed, resemble corpses.
"He'll never fit them both in that box without hacking them up," Danny stated morbidly, completely ignoring the fact that he was a homicide cop.
They all watched the assassin carefully wedge one burden into a packing crate while grumbling incoherently about Irons and his temper. Like gawkers at a car accident, all three craned their necks to see if Nottingham could fit two bodies in a box that barely contained one. What ensued was inexplicably comical despite its atrocity.
Nottingham was wrestling with what, (through the cloth) looked like wayward arms and legs. Every time he managed to stuff a limb in, another popped out, Invariably smacking some part of his anatomy. At one point, Gabriel and Danny both winced in sympathy.
After furiously throwing his arms up in surrender, Nottingham disappeared from view. Returning with his arms full of plants, he began shoving them in between what the trio believed to be lumps of arms and legs.
"What the hell?" Danny whispered, furrowing his brows in confusion. Nottingham had completed the bizarre 'crate o' bodies cum plant container' just before a man carrying a pair of hedge trimmers stepped into view.
"You wanted to see me, Mr. Nottingham?" the man queried as he eyed the unseemly sculpture with disdain.
"Yes, I need you to find an unobtrusive location for Mr. Irons latest garden acquisition," Ian stated smoothly.
The gardener eyed the crate with a look that was nothing short of horror. "He bought this?" the gardener gasped, unable to restrain his dismay at the ugly purchase which, looked as if it were saluting him.
"Yes," the assassin affirmed. "Unfortunately Mr. Irons has fallen prey to the newest gardening trend in raised beds. Supposedly, the unwieldy potting mixture not only provides interesting angles to the planting surface, but is an excellent fertilizer as well," Nottingham explained.
When the gardener cast him a disbelieving look, he merely rolled his eyes. "Just throw some mulch over the weeding cloth and be glad he restrained himself from purchasing the pink flamingo lawn ornaments," the assassin griped.
With a shudder of revulsion at the thought of tacky lawn ornaments littering the estate's landscape, the gardener duly accepted his task and hustled off to get one of the bobcats that were so fun to drive.
"And set it downwind from the estate. I'm under the impression that the potting material can become a bit rank." Nottingham called after the man. *** Ian gaped in disbelief. Was Irons deliberately trying to get him in trouble? Sure, he'd skimped on his duties once in a while, but he was a busy man. Now he'd have to acquire another crate and stash the mess elsewhere before Sara came busting in with a warrant. Crap. *** "Unbelievable," Detective Woo muttered, shaking his head.
"Well that was an interesting solution," Sara commented, not quite knowing what to make of Nottingham's combination of ingenuity and sheer brass.
For some reason, Gabriel found the entire exchange between the gardener and assassin wildly hysterical, stifling snorts of laughter between each repartee. *** Ian didn't know whether to be relieved or upset that the two detectives seemed more interested in continuing to watch videos than solving murders. Moreover, he didn't understand why Bowman found his dilemma so damn funny. He definitely needed to pay the cheeky imp a visit before the day was done. *** The scene had switched once again and Nottingham was now performing some rudimentary Katas.
"Hmm, his form's not bad," Danny noted, distracted from his thoughts on the corpses. As Nottingham began to increase the speed and difficulty of his movements, however, the detective noticed the man starting to lose his center. "He's rushing it though," he added, just before the assassin thrust his knee a little too swiftly, knocking his Katana out of his hand and sending it sailing across the room.
Scowling, Nottingham retrieved his weapon from where it had lodged into a wall and resumed the set of movements after apologizing to Katrina. This time he'd made it past the balance of kicking and arching the blade simultaneously, but over-swung and nicked his ponytail. With a whimper from the assassin, a set of locks plopped to the floor.
"Mmmf?" Nottingham mewled mournfully as he retrieved his precious locks. Clutching the handful of hair in anger and dismay, He returned to his ill-fated Kata with fury.
"Uh oh," Danny murmured. Anger and controlled movements weren't an entirely good mix, especially while brandishing a sharp weapon. *** After hearing his apology to the katana, Ian could easily guess what was coming next. He remembered the disastrous routine with chagrin. His temper had been his undoing and his nicked hair had joined in the battle against him. He had made it through only a few movements before his shorn locks worked their way out from the confinement of the hair band and made a break for freedom.
Unfortunately, their liberation occurred in the middle of a very difficult and delicate maneuver. Suddenly blinded by the wayward locks, his performance ended with a physical display that emulated more of an 'addled albatross' than 'striking serpent'.
Hearing the riotous cachinnation in the precinct, Ian looked up from the meager security of his gloved hands to find Bowman performing what he hoped was an exaggeration of his blunder. The two detectives were too busy restraining their ribs to notice that their bedlam had attracted an audience. Several officers' faces were pressed to the office door window, trying to get a gander at what was causing all the hilarity. *** Sides hurting from laughing first at Nottingham's and then Gabriel's near exact mimicry of 'ballet gone bad', Sara gasped; "Wait," to the laptop. It had showed a brief snippet of Nottingham snuggling into bed after kissing a photo frame on his bed stand. With all the distractions, she had missed whom the photo was of. "What was that?" the Wielder demanded. But, ostensibly, the Blade didn't believe in rewind and had moved on to the next scene.
The current tableau consisted of Nottingham holding a glass of champagne at a swank dinner party, surrounded by four beautiful and elegant women.
As the socialites attention seemed to hang on every word of Nottingham's assessment of cultural and historical fighting techniques, Danny noticed Irons watching in the background, peevishly slitting his eyes in jealous irritation.
Sara was too busy being annoyed by the ridiculous way the women were fawning over the assassin to notice. Gabriel seemed to be caught between eyeing the blonde and mentally cross-referencing the assassin's conclusions.
Just as one of the women had moved in to become physically friendly - "You are so muscular. Have you practiced all of these fascinating techniques?" she cooed while stroking his arm. - Irons intervened.
"Oh, Ian, could you tell me the time?" Kenneth queried with a stifled smirk.
Automatically, Irons' bodyguard obeyed the implied command, promptly dumping champagne down his trousers as he flipped his wrist to check his watch.
The dark look on Nottingham's face as Kenny snickered in triumph while the women giggled at Ian's gullibility was not lost on the trio watching. Danny moaned out a; "I can't believe he fell for that," while shaking his head with a chuckle.
Sara snickered at Nottingham being taken down a notch and Gabriel, surprisingly barked; "That was rude!" in Nottingham's defense. "Oh, c'mon, Bowman. He fell for it AND he was being..." Sara partially retorted, at a loss for the right word now that she wasn't exactly sure what he had done to irritate her.
"Erudite?" Gabriel supplied.
"Um, yeah," Sara mumbled. *** Oh great, now the Bowman brat was sticking up for him. Every time he'd decided to punish the boy, he would pull something like this. Ian was beginning to wonder if the whippersnapper didn't have a 'beating' radar. *** The Blade seemed to be winding down, Sara noted, as the gem's swirl slowed on her wrist. Ian was tucked in bed with a glass of milk and a book lying in his lap.
"He sure seems to like milk," Sara remarked.
As the dangerous assassin raised the book to read, the band of onlookers hooted in unison. 'Snow White' was clearly emblazoned across the book cover with a cartoon illustration of the ingenue and her entourage of dwarves. *** Ian was wondering what Irons had filmed now. Surely drinking milk could not be that entertaining. He had snuck a couple swallows from the carton every once in a while, but didn't everyone? *** The threesome's tittering had calmed only to be renewed when Nottingham evidently came to a scary part in the story, accidentally spilling his milk with a gasp of dismay.
Performing an impressive leap in the hands of the distressed assassin, the evicted milk landed squarely on the assassin's forehead. Instead of getting up to clean himself, however, Nottingham simply licked the delicious drink from his mustache and smeared the rest evenly around his face before resuming his reading.
Maybe he decided to leave it on as a skin softener? Sara wondered. She used yogurt but supposed milk was fine as well.
"That was weird," Gabriel muttered.
"My wife does that kind of stuff," Danny stated, scrunching his brows and shaking his head slightly. "You'd be surprised at some of the weird things women do." *** Did Detective Woo just call him a Woman? Ian tilted the screen of his wireless, ridiculously trying to get a peek at what they were seeing. None of their comments made any sense and he was wondering what in the hell Irons had captured that made him come across as girly. *** As the two men continued their chat on the oddities of women, Nottingham yawned widely and tucked the book under his mattress. With a dreamy smile, he reached for the photo frame and placed a reverent kiss on it's facing.
Now it was Sara's turn to uselessly crane to see what was hidden by the angle. "Oh c'mon," she griped, dismayed that for the second time the Blade was denying her a view of the photo.
The amulet seemed to smirk in reply before showing Nottingham holding the image of Sara in a pose not dissimilar to a Betty Page pinup. The photo was of Sara bending down to pick up a fallen hair tie in her skivvies.
As the Wielder's face turned crimson (Whether from embarrassment or outrage is still in question), the two men beside her busted out laughing between hoots and hollers.
"Nice pose," Gabriel grinned, while Danny wheezed about Nottingham kissing her ass before going to bed. *** Kissing Sara's ass? What was he- ? Suddenly it dawned on him, the photo. How dare Irons put that on the internet! Ian was incensed! No, he was chagrined. Wait, no... he was terror-stricken. Sara was going to kill him for photographing her in her undergarments. Without thinking, the assassin's hand flew to his mouth. He worried his nails through the leather glove nervously while various expressions whizzed across the Wielder's face. *** Sara decided to push Nottingham's shenanigans to the back of her mind as she watched him settle into bed. Between the embarrassment of Ian kissing the risque photo and her warring thoughts, she wasn't sure if she should be flattered, appalled or angry.
As the screen faded to black, little kitten noises emanated from the assassin as he drifted off to sleep, inciting a final gigglefest from the gaggle in the precinct.
"Well, looks like the show's over," Sara announced as the screensaver kicked in and her bracelet swirled contentedly. She sent a mental; 'thanks for the show' to the surprisingly cooperative amulet and received a playful wink from the gem in return.
* -_~