By Kat

"Sara, are you okay?" Jake asked.

She gave him a look that said nothing, but expressed everything. She wasn�t okay, but she wasn�t about to tell him that.

She unbound his hands and helped him out of the chair. He looked around at the destruction done while he�d been safe behind a wall. It wasn�t possible that a single woman, a single cop, could have cause all this damage. He gave her a look mixed with disbelief and wonderment.

He thought about the night at Badlands and the battle, for lack of a better word, at Isaac�s studio. How could someone who looked so beautiful, be so deadly?

He remembered the feel of her lips on his mouth. That kiss fueled a dozen dreams and numerous fantasies in the past couple of days. If only she felt the same way. If only she would turn to him for comfort. But she was with Conchobar. It was obvious that she was head over heels for the guy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time had passed and Conchobar was now dead. Jake felt awful for Sara, but part of him was grateful that it gave him a chance to be there for her. To be her champion in her time of need.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked.

Jake couldn�t answer without giving away his feelings for her. He was silent and just lead her out of the warehouse and away from her lover. It was tough being in this position, but it was better than being left out completely.

He took her back to her apartment. After seating her on the couch, he went to the kitchen to fix her a cup of tea. He brought her the steaming cup, but had to place the cup in her hands and hold his around both.

The heat of the cup warmed her palms and the heat of his hands warmed her fingers, but nothing could warm her heart. It had been ripped out when Fiona had put the Witchblade through Conchobar�s heart. Sara couldn�t say any of this to Jake. It was too hard to even think, let alone explain that it was her fault her lover was dead.

She brought tear-filled eyes up to Jake�s and said, "Thank you," in a very quiet, broken voice. She had no strength to lift the cup to her lips. She had no strength to tell Jake to go. She had no strength.

Jake gently lifted the cup to her mouth and forced her to drink the hot liquid. He was worried that she was going to disappear into herself and her pain. He didn�t know what else to do but sit with her and lend her his strength.

As she slumped back into the couch, Jake removed the cup and placed it on the table. He gently lowered himself beside her, draping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. It wasn�t much, but it was all he could do.

Later, when the tears had stopped and her breathing had calmed down, he realized she had fallen asleep. Gently lifting her from the couch, he took her jacket off, removed her shoes and jeans and placed her on the bed. He covered her with a sheet and with a kiss on the forehead, he left.

Every day he called her number, hoping against hope that she�d answer. She never did. Her machine would pick up and say, "Pezzini, go." The message he left was always the same, "Sara, it�s your partner. I�m worried, call me." He resisted the urge to go over and see her. She needed this time to grieve, she didn�t need him.

Four days later he finally gave up the pretence of not worrying and went to her apartment. Surprisingly enough, she answered the bell and let him in. She was up and around and looking great.

"What?" she asked.

"You look great," he replied with surprise in his voice.

"You might say, I�ve come to terms with a few things." She then reached out for a hug. It was all he could do not to squeeze too hard. Sara was back and among the living. There was hope after all.

This story ©copyright Kat, August 30, 2001