Emotions 1/?

By Divia

Rated: PG

Disclaimer: You know the drill

** **** ***

Ian Nottingham stood perfectly still as he watched the scene unfold before his brown eyes. He made a fist, longing to take action against the young blonde detective. Nottingham could not understand how Sara could allow the detective to kiss her. Didn�t she understand her fate, and his feelings for her?

"Enough of this." Nottingham spat, and turned quickly, unable to stomach any more of the lovers� embrace. He would put an end to their relationship.

*** *** ***

Four hours later�

Gathering as much strength as was humanly possible, Sara crawled out of bed. Her body ached, crying out for her to stop the simplest of movements, but she continued to clothe herself. Staggering over to the door, she glanced out the small window, attempting to see if anyone was approaching. Unable to detect the staff�s movements, Sara opened the door and poked her head down the hall, assessing the situation. She needed to escape from the hospital, and the sooner the better. Jake needed her help, and Sara needed to obtain the witchblade from him before her partner hurt himself.

"Hello Mr. Irons." Sara heard a nurse say in a cheerful tone. The young detective groaned. She did not have the time or the energy to deal with Irons and his mind games. Quietly, Sara slipped through the door and hobbled down the hallway. She was thankful the nurses� station was far enough away that no one would see her leave. As she continued to walk through the hallway, she could feel herself become stronger. Sara no longer walked with a noticeable limp, and the terrible aching in her side seemed to dissipate.

Sara ducked into the women�s bathroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror and saw the yellow bruises, which had once covered her face were fading. Her rapid recovery could only be associated with the witchblade, and while she did not understand why she was being healed, Sara was not about to question her good fortune. Sara splashed water on her face, then looked in the mirror again.

"Danny!" Sara turned suddenly. "You can�t be in here, it�s a women�s bathroom."

"I�m dead, Sara." He reminded her, as she looked under the stalls to see if anyone was present. " No one will notice me."

"You�ve got to help me. I have to get out of here before Irons finds me. And I�ve got to get the witchblade." Sara turned around suddenly. "Did you know that Jake�s wearing the witchblade? How screwed up is that? He�s lucky it hasn�t taken off his hand."

Danny watched her as she paced nervously in the confined area. "Be careful, Sara. The witchblade knows what it is doing."

"Are you kidding me?" A nervous laugh escaped her. "Of all people who should have infinite power, Jake isn�t one who comes to mind. He�s going to get himself hurt."

"You underestimate your partner. Be advised, Sara, that you need to look at your intentions. Make sure they are clear."

"What the hell does.." An elderly woman entered giving the younger woman a puzzled look. Unable to come up with an adequate excuse, Sara fled quickly, praying that her passage would be incident free.

*** *** ***

"And where are you now? Now that I need you, tears on my pillow," Jake sung a little off key, as he cooked himself dinner. He attempted to sing the entire song, though he missed a few lines because he was so absorbed in the bacon, which sizzled, in the frying pain. "Its just emotion takin me over caught up in sorrow.." Jake grabbed a fork to use a microphone as he moved around the kitchen, enjoying the music.

"Just make yourself at home."

"Sara!" Jake froze. He stood before her in a white towel with his damp hair hanging in his eyes. She couldn�t help but smile. "I was just um, you told me I could use your place for a little while."

"Are you moving in?"

"I�m only taking your advice," he reminded her. "You told me to take a shower." Jake changed the subject quickly. "Are you feeling better?" Sara could not believe she was carrying on a conversation with a half naked man in her kitchen.

"A little, yes." She sat down. "I think the witchblade healed me. Jake we have to talk."

"Um, OK." His blue eyes shifted to the bacon.

"You have to give me the witchblade." Sara told him, as she watched him flip the bacon. "It�s not safe for you to wear it."

"I�m not sure if it will come off." Jake admitted, as he set the fork on the counter. He took a deep breath and tried to slip it off his wrist. The bracelet wrapped itself around Jake�s arm and dug into his skin. Violently he began to wave his arm, hoping his action would help to elevate the pain. "OK, OK, I�m sorry. Stop. Please."

"I don�t understand. I�m the bearer." Annoyed, Sara tapped her fingers against the counter; unable to comprehend why the bracelet would not come to its rightful owner. "I�m its master."

"Trust me," Jake began. "I really don�t want it. I mean it�s nice to have the powers and stuff but I don�t like the visions and the strange senses that come with it. I�d hand it over if I could." Sara didn�t know if she believed him, so she choose not to acknowledge his statement. The dryer buzzed sending Jake scurrying to remove his clothes. The young woman watched his tight butt as he left.

Nice.

"What?"

Sara jumped. "Um nothing." Stupid mind link. She grumbled to herself. Jake returned fully clothed, much to her dismay, and began loading the food onto his plate.

"Do you want some?"

"No thanks." Jake nodded, as he poked the eggs. For what seemed like an eternity the two sat in silence, neither looking at the other. The only noise that could be heard was Jake�s fork scraping across his plate. Both could sense each other�s feelings. The kiss they had shared at the hospital was hanging over them like a noose, yet neither wanted to address the issue. So they continued to sit in silence.

"This is stupid!" Sara snapped.

"What?" Jake asked, dumbly.

"What do you think?" She asked. "We have to talk." Sara stood up and walked towards the refrigerator.

"Oh." Jake groaned as he thought about the awkward conversation that would ensue. He glanced down at the witchblade and saw the red stone swirling, warning its wearer of danger. "Sara," Jake stood up. " I think we�ve got trouble." As he finished his sentence shots ran out and the door became riddled with bullet holes.

"What the hell?" Sara snapped. The door was kicked in, and Nottingham appeared before them with two guns in his hand.

"Where�s my gun?" Jake demanded, as the witchblade instinctively covered his body.

"How the hell am I suppose to know?" Sara yelled back, annoyed by her vulnerability.

"What do you want Nottingham?" Jake asked, as the man in black began to follow him around the room, gun raised at his head.

"How dare you touch her?"

"Who?" Jake asked, unable to comprehend whom Nottingham was referring to.

"I saw you and Lady Sara. You have clouded her mind. Her fate is to be with me. I will not have you get in the way." Nottingham cocked his gun and Jake closed his eyes, unsure of how the witchblade was going to save him. A shot rang out and Jake waited to be struck. When he did not feel the impact of the bullet Jake�s eyes flew open and he saw Nottingham in a pool of his own blood.

"Come on!" Sara hissed and grabbed Jake�s arm.

"Lady Sara," Nottingham�s pathetic voice called out to her, but the young woman holstered her gun and ran out of the apartment fighting the urge to look back.