Forewarned 2

Part Four

Sara looked in the mirror. Dark circles had formed under her eyes from lack of sleep. She smeared a little concealer under them and brushed her hair and teeth. Good as it�s going to get , she thought to herself. She sat the cup she had used to rinse back on the sink and looked back up into the mirror. Behind her was a dark figure. She whirled around drawing her gun, "Shit! How did you get in here!" She leaned back against the vanity, trying to catch her breath.

"I mean you no harm, Sara. We must talk."

"Well I can�t talk right now, I�ve got a date." She furrowed her brow. Well not exactly, she thought.

"Sara, I do not think you realize how important this is."

"I realize you broke into my apartment and scared the beejesus out of me!"

"I apologize for that, I really do, but there was no other way."

"You don�t know how to knock?" Suddenly the absurdity of the situation hit her and coupled with the stress of Danny�s death it was more than she could handle. She burst out laughing and crying at the same time. Here she stood in her tiny little bathroom, with a man she had met only once and then just in passing, his letter to her confusing at best. She covered her mouth with her hand trying to stifle the overwhelming emotions conflicting with in her. "I think I�m going crazy. I�m really losing it."

Ian had been prepared for rage, disbelief or just plain curiosity. He hadn�t foreseen hysterics. "We must go now," he handed her a note.

Sara stopped laughing and lifted her brows. A note? What the hell? She holstered her gun and then unfolded the note and read it.

Sara,
Please remove the Witchblade from your wrist and leave it here in your apartment in a safe place. There is someone who might be able to sense parts of our conversation otherwise. If safety is a concern you may feel free to search me for weapons and hold me at gun point until our conversation is over. I realize you have very little knowledge of me at this point and I would not blame you in the least for being concerned. I assure you, however, that your safety is of utmost concern to me.

Ian

She looked at him incredulously and then down at the bracelet encircling her wrist. "Fine, strip."

"As you wish, Lady Sara." Ian�s face darkened and he bowed his head.

Jake pulled up in front of Sara�s building and honked the horn. He waited a few minutes and then swore and said, "Women." Muttering he got out of the warm car and entered the building.

He arrived at Sara�s door, slightly out of breath from climbing the stairs. He rapped sharply a few times on the door. "Sara! Sara, it�s Jake, open up." Silence. No answer. He swore again and began to descend the stairs.

Part Five

Sara watched in astonishment as the man before her removed his coat, his sweater, his shirt. She had not expected him to comply. She lifted one eyebrow when he paused.

"Shall I continue?"

"Do I have to tip you if you do?" She grinned, but the humor was evidently lost on Ian, who simply stood waiting for further instruction. She knelt and patted down his legs. "Mind if I check through your coat before you put it back on?"

"Please do. You will find a small package in the right hand pocket addressed to you. You may open it if you wish, but I will wait to explain the contents if that is acceptable with you."

Sara nodded in reply as she handed him his shirt and then his sweater, which he donned.

Rifling through the coat pockets she found only the package he spoke of and some subway tokens and cash wrapped tightly in a tissue. She handed the coat back to him and he worked his way into it. "You wait here a moment. Don�t go anywhere."

A sudden knock at the door startled her. Jake, it had to be. Ian held a gloved finger to his lips. Moments later footsteps could be heard heading back down the stairs.

"You know he�s going to be furious with me for standing him up."

"Please hurry, Sara."

"You know this spy versus spy stuff is getting to be a bit much, Nottingham."

"Please." Ian�s head lifted slightly and he caught her gaze for a moment.

Sara sighed in exasperation, "Oh allright" as she headed out of the bathroom. Crossing through her living room she noticed the curtains fluttering. She walked over and closed the window, muttering to herself and locking it tightly before continuing on her mission.

In the kitchen Sara put the package from Nottingham�s coat pocket on the counter and then removed the Witchblade and sealed it in a zippered baggie. She tore a paper towel off the roll and laid it on the counter. Glancing back to the bathroom to make sure Nottingham wasn�t watching her she got a new can of coffee from the shelf. Turning it upside down she opened it from the bottom end with a hand cranked can opener. She poured a good portion of the coffee onto the paper towel and placed the Witchblade in its baggie into the ground coffee. She dumped as much of the coffee as would fit from the paper towel back into the can. Next she grabbed a roll of cookie dough from the fridge and molded a portion of it around the edge of the metal circle from the bottom of the can. Working quickly, she pushed the circle back into place, sealing the can effectively. She placed the can back upright on the shelf, an unopened can to all but the most prying of eyes, and cleaned up the mess, nibbling on a bit of the cookie dough before sticking it back in the refrigerator.

"Allright, Nottingham. Come on out."

Ian came into the kitchen and glanced around. "You missed some coffee grounds there on the floor and you smell of. . . cookie dough."

Sara tossed her hands in the air and then retrieved the dustpan and whisk broom. Before she could bend to clean the stray coffee, Ian took the tools from her hands and knelt, performing the task for her. He deposited the debris in the trash and put away the cleaning supplies.

"Great. Do you do windows?" She paused and rolled her eyes. "I�m asking this of a man who scaled my fire escape and came in through my window." She snagged the package off of the counter and pocketed it.

Ian held the door open for her and stood close behind her as she locked it. He offered her his arm and they descended the staircase together.

Once they reached street level, Ian leaned his head out the door and peered both directions down the street. They emerged from the building and headed down the street. They walked down the street in silence for a while. Finally Sara spoke, "Okay, now are you going to tell me what this is all about and why I am walking down a New York City street at dusk with a man I�ve met only once?"

"In this lifetime."

"What is . . ."

"Just a moment, Sara." Ian led them to the ticket window of an all night theater. He purchased two tickets to a movie Sara had never heard of and then held the door for her.

As they walked through the lobby, Sara looked longingly at the snack bar and then sighed as Nottingham handed the usher their tickets and led her into the darkened theater.

"You really know how to treat a girl, Nottingham." Sara thought she might have detected the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

"All in good time, Lady Sara, all in good time."

Part 6

As they sat in the back row of the darkened and nearly empty theater, an anime cartoon flashing on the huge screen, Ian began telling Sara of her life and the Witchblade. He divulged as much as he could remember up to the point of where Dante had delivered the fatal bullet into his body, leaving out only her rejection of him. She sat quietly, listening, part of her disbelieving the tale and part of her completely intrigued.

As his discourse drew to an end, she asked, "And this Conchobar guy? I was in love with him?"

"So it would seem." He looked down at the back of the seat in front of him, his hands folded in his lap.

"And Dante killed Joe? Personally?"

Ian nodded.

"I haven�t even met the guy and I want to kill him." Sara�s brows drew together. "So if I am to believe you, which I�m not saying I am, but if I were to. . . then I can trust this Gabriel kid, I can�t trust Jake, Irons is setting me up in order to play vampire with my blood, and was behind the death of my father at the hands of Tommy Gallo?"

"It is not that cut and dried, but you are for the most part correct."

"The White Bulls, engraved bullets . . . I�m sorry Nottingham, but this all seems pretty far fetched."

"I realize it must be hard to comprehend, Sara. This is the one opportunity I had to set things right. I had to risk telling you whether you choose to believe me or not. The Witchblade may confirm parts of what I have told you, I am not sure of what it will show you, I am not sure what will be irrevocably altered by your decision not to go into the Rialto with Danny or by your sitting here listening to what I have told you. It didn�t prevent Danny�s death. It may not prevent others, but . . . I had to try." He hung his head, staring at the floor, pushing a bit of spilled popcorn away with the toe of his boot.

"And what�s in this package?" She lifted the package from her pocket and opened it. Her eyes widened and her voice rose, "Shit Nottingham! There must be thousands here!"

Ian held up his hand for her to be quiet. "There is twenty-eight thousand. I want you to invest it. The name of the stock and number of shares to purchase are on a piece of paper at the bottom of the stack."

"Nottingham, I can�t accept this."

"It is nothing. Just invest it. If you won�t do it for yourself, invest it for me. The money is clean I give you my assurance."

Sara looked at the slip of paper and then re-wrapped the package as best she could and slipped it back into her pocket. "I�ll invest it for you, but this is your money, not mine."

"Fair enough."

Nervous at having so much money on her person and embarrassed by her outburst, Sara cast a wary eye around the theater. The only other couple watching the movie was teenagers and they were seated near the front. She turned back to Nottingham. "This is just so crazy, I have trouble not believing it. No one could make this up . . . no one could know that many details. "

"I have told you the truth to the best of my knowledge, Lady Sara."

"But you are leaving something out."

He sighed and nodded. "Some things I have omitted because they are too painful for me to speak of."

The credits began to roll across the screen. Sara stood and Ian followed suit.

Sara turned to Nottingham, "I�m going to think about this. I need time to sort all of this out. Is there a way I can get in touch with you?"

Ian nodded. "Hand me your cell phone." When she complied, he entered his cell phone number into the memory of her phone. "I did not bring mine tonight. I did not want Mr. Irons to interrupt this."

"I don�t understand why you let him control you so."

"He gave me life, Sara. He has given me everything I have in this life. He is my Master. You hold in your hands the power to give me new life, Sara."

"I�m not sure I�m comfortable with that, but I guess if all you have told me is true, I don�t have much choice."

"Trust in the Witchblade, Sara. It will guide you."

"I hope for everyone�s sake you are right, Nottingham."

He merely nodded and they made their way back into the lobby, both of them squinting a bit as their eyes adjusted to the increased light.

Suddenly Sara spun on her heels, "Kiss me, Nottingham"

Ian looked incredulous, blinking at her words.

"Quick, it�s Jake."

Ian lifted the edges of his trench coat, wrapping it around Sara�s body as he leaned down around her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder until Jake had passed them by and gone into one of the theaters.

"Why didn�t you kiss me?" Sara queried as she pulled back from Nottingham.

Ian stared at the floor, abashed. He lifted his eyes to hers momentarily before returning his gaze to the floor. "Please forgive me, as much as I would like to, Fair Sara . . . this is neither the time, the place, nor the right reason for doing so."

Sara knitted her brow, but didn�t reply. They left the theater in silence and began the walk back to Sara�s apartment.

Sara unlocked the door to her home and Ian held up a hand in front of her before she could enter. "Please, allow me to verify your safety." He entered the apartment, searching through each room and checking the windows before he returned to the door. "All is well."

Sara gave him a look and walked in, standing beside him near the doorway. "Should I take it out now and wear it?" She pointed to the kitchen shelves.

Ian nodded, "If you so wish it. I will be going then." He bowed his head.

"Wait."

Ian lifted his eyes to Sara, questioningly.

"I can�t trust a man who won�t kiss me."

Ian dropped to his knees and held her hand in both of his gloved ones. He looked up at her. "I am in your service, Lady Sara. Your wish is my command." He pressed his lips to her hand. He held her hand a bit longer than necessary as he lifted his lips away.

"That�s not what I meant!" she called to his rapidly disappearing form as he descended the stairs. "Nottingham!"

Sara turned and went inside, locking the door behind her. She leaned her back to the door and slid down it to a seated position her head in her hands. Her voice dripping sarcasm, she muttered to herself, "Great, just great. I am losing it. . . evidently in more ways than one." She sat a moment and then clambered to her feet, heading to the kitchen. She got the coffee can down from the shelf and using butter knife, lifted the bottom of the can away. She retrieved the Witchblade from the plastic baggie and placed it on her wrist. She looked back at the coffee can and the cookie dough smeared around the bottom. "What a waste of perfectly good cookie dough." She sighed and cleaned up the mess before undressing and heading to bed.

Sara�s slept fitfully her dreams guided by the Witchblade. Dreams of a man in armor, visions of faces she did not recognize, and lastly images of Nottingham and herself, both in armor. She awoke with a start, looking down at the bracelet on her wrist. She must be going crazy. She sat up, reaching for her jacket that she had placed on the chair beside her bed. The money was there. That had not been a dream.

Thank God that Joe had given her a few days off. She stood and stretched and then frowned in puzzlement. The aroma of coffee assailed her senses.

She padded barefoot into the kitchen. On the counter was a fresh can of coffee and a pot had already been brewed. On her kitchen table sat a plate of cookies, still warm. Beside the plate lay a single red rose. She picked up the rose and inhaled its sweet fragrance, smiling as her eyes caught the movement of the curtains stirring lightly in the breeze.

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