Title: Revelation
Rating: PG-13
Spoiler: Maelstorm-Season finale
Summary: How deep is Sara and Ian's connection?
Disclaimer: I own nothing dealing with Witchblade. Just some craze fanatic waiting for the 2nd season to start. (
You all know how I crave reviews. So let me know what you think, okay!? Enjoy!!
A/N: I've been bitten by the writers block bug and I'm slowly recovering so please bear with me.
~*~
Stabbing the down button with more force then needed Sara stood impatiently as she waited for the elevator car to arrive. Her grip tightens on the hold she had on her helmet, which was already secure under her arm. All she had wanted to do was get out of her dress blues and go home. Her day hadn't started out too bad, yet any day away from Dante was considered a good day. However it had gotten worst when she arrived at court to testify for two older cases. What could have been a few hours in court had dragged out to be six hours. And just when she was about ready to head home, Irons calls her on her cell phone and insisted on seeing her in his office at Vorshlag. She really did not want to deal with the man but she knew Irons wouldn't take no for an answer, which would only end up with him sending his lapdog for her.
'Might as well get this over with' she thought as she rode the Buell over to Vorshlag.
Still standing waiting for the damn elevator, thoughts of their conversation ran through her mind. It had been quite aberrant of Irons' to call her, wanting to apologize. Yet she knew the man always had something up his sleeves. Kenneth Irons never does any thing that wouldn't benefit him in some form or another.
"What the hell do you want this time, Irons? I'm having a bad day and I really don't need this shit from you."
Sara stood in the middle of his lavish yet sparsely furnished office at Vorshlag Industries. When she entered she was surprise Nottingham hadn't been lurking around in a corner somewhere. Apparently he had been keeping his distance lately. Since that day on the field with him kicking the crap out of Jake, and the night before when he came to her saying that he was turning himself in. However, he never made a confession. Well that wasn't entirely true; he did make one, a profession. 'I love you, in unguarded moments.' She had been so stunned from his strange behavior she didn't know how to respond. Instead she tried to get him to confess his involvement in the Parsegien/Wolfe homicide. It had proven to be a waste of time and the Witchblade hadn't given a hand in helping her solve the case. She had been assailed with images of Nottingham and voices she couldn't quite understand.
"I called you here to apologize" Sara tried to push the thoughts of Nottingham aside as Irons spoke over his shoulder.
He had been standing at the only open window of his office when Sara arrived, staring out into the already setting sun, behind it the dark sky was turning an ugly gray, a rainstorm no doubt. He finally turned to Sara tearing his gaze from the view. Inadvertently Sara notices the cane he uses to carefully make his way towards her. She had to stifle a gasp; the Kenneth Irons that stood in front of her now wasn't the same man she met months ago. His once vibrant, youthful image had been replaced by something old and well beyond his years.
"Behold the future, Sara" Irons watch as Sara tried to regain her composure, shaking her head and blinking back the confusion.
"Ah, you said something about apologizing. For what?"
Kenneth shifted his weight and leaned heavily on his cane. Shaking his head trying to find the words he could use to capture Sara's sympathy. Here was a woman who held his future, his life in the palm of her hands. Since passing the Periculum her entire body had undergone a dramatic change. The same blood that courses through her body could very well save his life. And yet she had no idea the importance of her existence.
"When I first met you my only interest was in the Witchblade. I offered you the world on a silver platter. But that was not altruistic and genuine. You rejected me and you had the right to do so."
"Apology not required but accepted." Sara stared disbelievingly at Irons.
"And yet when you came to me for help I refused out of…bitterness."
"But you came through in the end, two million dollars worth." Though he had rejected her earlier that day Sara recalled Nottingham arriving at the warehouse with the leather satchel no doubt full of the money Irons provided. Even she had been touched and shocked by Irons actions. But that didn't mean she trusted him. However things didn't go as planned, she still lost John to death by the hands of that Fiona woman.
Kenneth shook his head. It was never his intention to pay the ransom. He sent Ian empty handed with only the order to retrieve the Witchblade from the pretender. Leaving Sara and her lover to fend for themselves. To his disappointment Ian had returned without the blade and Sara was still alive. The only satisfaction he had was the fact that Conchobar was no longer a part of Sara's life. However, he knew the bard's life would have come to a rather painful end sooner or later. Like he told Sara 'history tended to repeat itself.'
It was foretold in the tome that held Cathain's legend. Though the reasons why Conchobar died had been on those missing pages, Irons' wasn't about to inform Sara or Ian for that matter. Let her think what she wishes of her innocent Conchobar and Ian had no way of knowing the role he played. It was sheer luck those pages where missing; Irons had retained some control over the situation.
"That was Ian's doing…"
Sara's eyes widen as she stared incredulous at Irons. She couldn't believe it. It wasn't Irons that came through for her in the end. It was Nottingham? She wanted to question why but the words were stuck in her throat. She tried her best to focus her attention to Irons continued ramblings but she still could not apprehend the news about Nottingham. He provided the money? Two million dollars was not pocket change, just where did he get a hold of that kind of money? Most importantly why did he do it?
'Relax Sara, I would do anything to please you' the image of him flashed once more in her mind.
"…He shammed me into realizing I was consigning you to death by refusing to help you. So I express my heartfelt regrets. I ask for your forgiveness." Blinking back the confusion, Sara nodded her acceptance.
She was still dumbfounded by the revelation of Nottingham providing the two million dollars. What else had he done for her? Besides the fact he had saved her ass more then once on occasion. She felt the Witchblade warm up on her arm. She pushed the urge to look down at the blade. If it was going to thrust her into another vision she wanted to make sure she was alone and as far away from Irons as possible.
"Should you need anything from me in the future, anything I am in your service"
"Where is Nottingham now?" Sara had suddenly grown curious about him.
"Why Sara?" Irons hid the irritation in his voice. He knew about Ian's growing infatuation for Sara, but the thought that she may feel something in return, no matter how minute, had bothered him greatly.
"I have a few more questions I wanted to ask him."
She wanted to know exactly what happened the night of the Irish massacre. Sara was sure he was the only one coherent enough to remember since the others were…dead. Everything about that night had been a blur. All she could remember was John dying in her arms and then Jake waking her up, helping her out of the warehouse before the police got there. She was still unsure how the blade got back on her arm. But these were questions she needed to ask Nottingham not Irons. She had no doubt Nottingham had told Irons everything; he was still Irons' servant, wasn't he? Sara tried to get some reassurance by discreetly rubbing the blade and in return she felt it warm up once again on her arm. 'You definitely have something to tell me, don't you?' Sara thought sarcastically.
"Why detective, is Ian another one of your suspects again?" Sara hated that smirk and just wanted to knock it off his face with the Witchblade.
"Well Mr. Irons that's between Nottingham and myself." Irons' grip had tightened on the handle of the cane as he eyed Sara shrewdly. He was sure there was something more to Sara's inquiry about Ian. Irons could not afford to speculate on what they would be discussing. He needed to know and Sara was adamant on not telling him. A plan had started to formulate in his mind, to put forward his plans he needed to act on it immediately.
"I will relay your message to Ian that you wish to speak to him, Sara. Now if you will excuse me I can only eat so much crow at one sitting." Irons ended the conversation with a pert nod.
Without another word Irons turned his back on Sara and headed back towards to the open window. Not needing any other encouragement, Sara took her leave.
Sara's patience was weaning thin. Just before she left Irons' office she heard the distance sound of a thunderstorm brewing outside. Now she would have to ride her Buell in the rain if she didn't hurry and leave. Sara stared at the closed metal doors, frustrated she jabbed the down button once more. 'Should have used the stairs instead' She thought. She had taken a step when suddenly the light indicator above flashed and the metal doors hissed opened. Quickly turning she got in. Sara was grateful the car was empty; she really did not need the company on the long flight down.
She pressed the first floor button and just when the doors were about to close the dark enigma gracefully squeezed in. Without a second thought Sara pushed at a button that hesitantly left the doors open. With a finger still on the button she stuck her head out of the elevator hoping to catch someone who was going down. She may not have wanted the company earlier, but now was the time she hoped someone was coming. To her disappointment there was no one else but the assassin and the cop. Sara turned her head to glance at Nottingham who found a corner and stood at parade rest with his head bowed.
Shaking her head she let out a loud sigh, and removed her finger from the switch. 'This is going to be a long trip down' Sara thought to herself. She had wanted to talk to Nottingham but now wasn't the time. All she had wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed and try to forget the rest of the day. They had passed eight floors in an uncomfortable silence. Nottingham refused to look up from his bowed head and Sara obviously did not want to talk.
With his head bowed, Nottingham looked up from beneath his lashes, noticing Sara's raising agitation. She stood near the control panel with her back towards the wall of the elevator, arms crossed at her chest, her helmet dangling from her right hand. The Witchblade glowing a light red, yes she was agitated. Apparently she wasn't trusting to turn her back to him and she kept her gazed locked on him. It had hurt to think he was the cause of her uneasiness. When all he had wanted, since the moment she was discovered to be the true wielder, was to serve her to the best of his ability. But they had started on a bad note and everything from then on had just gotten worst. She neither liked nor trusted him and being associated with Kenneth Irons only added to the hatred she already had towards him. As much as Ian wanted for her to trust him he knew the opportunity had been lost.
Rating: PG-13
Spoiler: Maelstorm-Season finale
Summary: How deep is Sara and Ian's connection?
Disclaimer: I own nothing dealing with Witchblade. Just some craze fanatic waiting for the 2nd season to start. (
You all know how I crave reviews. So let me know what you think, okay!? Enjoy!!
A/N: I've been bitten by the writers block bug and I'm slowly recovering so please bear with me.
~*~
Stabbing the down button with more force then needed Sara stood impatiently as she waited for the elevator car to arrive. Her grip tightens on the hold she had on her helmet, which was already secure under her arm. All she had wanted to do was get out of her dress blues and go home. Her day hadn't started out too bad, yet any day away from Dante was considered a good day. However it had gotten worst when she arrived at court to testify for two older cases. What could have been a few hours in court had dragged out to be six hours. And just when she was about ready to head home, Irons calls her on her cell phone and insisted on seeing her in his office at Vorshlag. She really did not want to deal with the man but she knew Irons wouldn't take no for an answer, which would only end up with him sending his lapdog for her.
'Might as well get this over with' she thought as she rode the Buell over to Vorshlag.
Still standing waiting for the damn elevator, thoughts of their conversation ran through her mind. It had been quite aberrant of Irons' to call her, wanting to apologize. Yet she knew the man always had something up his sleeves. Kenneth Irons never does any thing that wouldn't benefit him in some form or another.
"What the hell do you want this time, Irons? I'm having a bad day and I really don't need this shit from you."
Sara stood in the middle of his lavish yet sparsely furnished office at Vorshlag Industries. When she entered she was surprise Nottingham hadn't been lurking around in a corner somewhere. Apparently he had been keeping his distance lately. Since that day on the field with him kicking the crap out of Jake, and the night before when he came to her saying that he was turning himself in. However, he never made a confession. Well that wasn't entirely true; he did make one, a profession. 'I love you, in unguarded moments.' She had been so stunned from his strange behavior she didn't know how to respond. Instead she tried to get him to confess his involvement in the Parsegien/Wolfe homicide. It had proven to be a waste of time and the Witchblade hadn't given a hand in helping her solve the case. She had been assailed with images of Nottingham and voices she couldn't quite understand.
"I called you here to apologize" Sara tried to push the thoughts of Nottingham aside as Irons spoke over his shoulder.
He had been standing at the only open window of his office when Sara arrived, staring out into the already setting sun, behind it the dark sky was turning an ugly gray, a rainstorm no doubt. He finally turned to Sara tearing his gaze from the view. Inadvertently Sara notices the cane he uses to carefully make his way towards her. She had to stifle a gasp; the Kenneth Irons that stood in front of her now wasn't the same man she met months ago. His once vibrant, youthful image had been replaced by something old and well beyond his years.
"Behold the future, Sara" Irons watch as Sara tried to regain her composure, shaking her head and blinking back the confusion.
"Ah, you said something about apologizing. For what?"
Kenneth shifted his weight and leaned heavily on his cane. Shaking his head trying to find the words he could use to capture Sara's sympathy. Here was a woman who held his future, his life in the palm of her hands. Since passing the Periculum her entire body had undergone a dramatic change. The same blood that courses through her body could very well save his life. And yet she had no idea the importance of her existence.
"When I first met you my only interest was in the Witchblade. I offered you the world on a silver platter. But that was not altruistic and genuine. You rejected me and you had the right to do so."
"Apology not required but accepted." Sara stared disbelievingly at Irons.
"And yet when you came to me for help I refused out of…bitterness."
"But you came through in the end, two million dollars worth." Though he had rejected her earlier that day Sara recalled Nottingham arriving at the warehouse with the leather satchel no doubt full of the money Irons provided. Even she had been touched and shocked by Irons actions. But that didn't mean she trusted him. However things didn't go as planned, she still lost John to death by the hands of that Fiona woman.
Kenneth shook his head. It was never his intention to pay the ransom. He sent Ian empty handed with only the order to retrieve the Witchblade from the pretender. Leaving Sara and her lover to fend for themselves. To his disappointment Ian had returned without the blade and Sara was still alive. The only satisfaction he had was the fact that Conchobar was no longer a part of Sara's life. However, he knew the bard's life would have come to a rather painful end sooner or later. Like he told Sara 'history tended to repeat itself.'
It was foretold in the tome that held Cathain's legend. Though the reasons why Conchobar died had been on those missing pages, Irons' wasn't about to inform Sara or Ian for that matter. Let her think what she wishes of her innocent Conchobar and Ian had no way of knowing the role he played. It was sheer luck those pages where missing; Irons had retained some control over the situation.
"That was Ian's doing…"
Sara's eyes widen as she stared incredulous at Irons. She couldn't believe it. It wasn't Irons that came through for her in the end. It was Nottingham? She wanted to question why but the words were stuck in her throat. She tried her best to focus her attention to Irons continued ramblings but she still could not apprehend the news about Nottingham. He provided the money? Two million dollars was not pocket change, just where did he get a hold of that kind of money? Most importantly why did he do it?
'Relax Sara, I would do anything to please you' the image of him flashed once more in her mind.
"…He shammed me into realizing I was consigning you to death by refusing to help you. So I express my heartfelt regrets. I ask for your forgiveness." Blinking back the confusion, Sara nodded her acceptance.
She was still dumbfounded by the revelation of Nottingham providing the two million dollars. What else had he done for her? Besides the fact he had saved her ass more then once on occasion. She felt the Witchblade warm up on her arm. She pushed the urge to look down at the blade. If it was going to thrust her into another vision she wanted to make sure she was alone and as far away from Irons as possible.
"Should you need anything from me in the future, anything I am in your service"
"Where is Nottingham now?" Sara had suddenly grown curious about him.
"Why Sara?" Irons hid the irritation in his voice. He knew about Ian's growing infatuation for Sara, but the thought that she may feel something in return, no matter how minute, had bothered him greatly.
"I have a few more questions I wanted to ask him."
She wanted to know exactly what happened the night of the Irish massacre. Sara was sure he was the only one coherent enough to remember since the others were…dead. Everything about that night had been a blur. All she could remember was John dying in her arms and then Jake waking her up, helping her out of the warehouse before the police got there. She was still unsure how the blade got back on her arm. But these were questions she needed to ask Nottingham not Irons. She had no doubt Nottingham had told Irons everything; he was still Irons' servant, wasn't he? Sara tried to get some reassurance by discreetly rubbing the blade and in return she felt it warm up once again on her arm. 'You definitely have something to tell me, don't you?' Sara thought sarcastically.
"Why detective, is Ian another one of your suspects again?" Sara hated that smirk and just wanted to knock it off his face with the Witchblade.
"Well Mr. Irons that's between Nottingham and myself." Irons' grip had tightened on the handle of the cane as he eyed Sara shrewdly. He was sure there was something more to Sara's inquiry about Ian. Irons could not afford to speculate on what they would be discussing. He needed to know and Sara was adamant on not telling him. A plan had started to formulate in his mind, to put forward his plans he needed to act on it immediately.
"I will relay your message to Ian that you wish to speak to him, Sara. Now if you will excuse me I can only eat so much crow at one sitting." Irons ended the conversation with a pert nod.
Without another word Irons turned his back on Sara and headed back towards to the open window. Not needing any other encouragement, Sara took her leave.
Sara's patience was weaning thin. Just before she left Irons' office she heard the distance sound of a thunderstorm brewing outside. Now she would have to ride her Buell in the rain if she didn't hurry and leave. Sara stared at the closed metal doors, frustrated she jabbed the down button once more. 'Should have used the stairs instead' She thought. She had taken a step when suddenly the light indicator above flashed and the metal doors hissed opened. Quickly turning she got in. Sara was grateful the car was empty; she really did not need the company on the long flight down.
She pressed the first floor button and just when the doors were about to close the dark enigma gracefully squeezed in. Without a second thought Sara pushed at a button that hesitantly left the doors open. With a finger still on the button she stuck her head out of the elevator hoping to catch someone who was going down. She may not have wanted the company earlier, but now was the time she hoped someone was coming. To her disappointment there was no one else but the assassin and the cop. Sara turned her head to glance at Nottingham who found a corner and stood at parade rest with his head bowed.
Shaking her head she let out a loud sigh, and removed her finger from the switch. 'This is going to be a long trip down' Sara thought to herself. She had wanted to talk to Nottingham but now wasn't the time. All she had wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed and try to forget the rest of the day. They had passed eight floors in an uncomfortable silence. Nottingham refused to look up from his bowed head and Sara obviously did not want to talk.
With his head bowed, Nottingham looked up from beneath his lashes, noticing Sara's raising agitation. She stood near the control panel with her back towards the wall of the elevator, arms crossed at her chest, her helmet dangling from her right hand. The Witchblade glowing a light red, yes she was agitated. Apparently she wasn't trusting to turn her back to him and she kept her gazed locked on him. It had hurt to think he was the cause of her uneasiness. When all he had wanted, since the moment she was discovered to be the true wielder, was to serve her to the best of his ability. But they had started on a bad note and everything from then on had just gotten worst. She neither liked nor trusted him and being associated with Kenneth Irons only added to the hatred she already had towards him. As much as Ian wanted for her to trust him he knew the opportunity had been lost.