Ian and Sara returned home to find Helmut in the kitchen, growling at the sliding glass doors, his fur bristled.

Instantly Sara looked down the bracelet on her wrist, it was glowing softly, a muted red. She nodded to Ian as he glanced at her. Moving swiftly he retrieved a sword from the bedroom and opened the sliding door upon his return. Helmut bounded out the open door and started barking madly at the bushes surrounding the backyard. Sara headed for the front door, her service revolver in hand. Making sure the front door was closed and locked, she went back through the house to the kitchen, setting the alarm before she closed the sliding glass door as she entered the backyard. Ian was already out of sight, but Helmut stood by the pool staring at the shrubbery, growling. Sara skirted the pool, staying in the shadows of the house. The floodlight shining out over the pool would make her an easy target, better to stay out of its path.

She listened cautiously as she edged closer to the side of the house. The only sounds that met her ears were the gentle lapping of the water and the sound of Helmut growling. A sudden movement in the bushes caused her to bring up her gun.

Ian came back through the bushes, "Just me. Don't shoot."

Sara lowered the gun, relieved. She looked at the Witchblade. It had stopped glowing.

"Who ever it was they are gone now." Ian bent down and patted Helmut. "Good work, Helmut." The dog seemed to calm down and stopped its growling, wagging his nubbin of a tail rapidly back and forth at the praise.

"I've not heard anything about break-ins in the neighborhood. Maybe we should let the neighbors know to be on the lookout."

Ian nodded and put his arm around Sara, guiding her back into the house. "I think someone may have been trying to figure out when we were not home. There were several calls today where no one was on the line when I answered."

Sara jerked her head around and stared at Ian. "I've had someone doing the same to me at work."

"We should really just let them break in. I think either one of us could take care of the problem rather efficiently." Ian laughed softly.

Sara shared his mirth for a moment, before her voice took a serious tone, "What if its not just . . . what if Irons is behind this?" The threat of Irons manipulations was never far from Sara's mind. "He hasn't bothered us since . . . " she let the sentence drop.

"Let us hope it is just a burglar." Ian wrapped his arms around her, but the thought had been on his mind as well.

Helmut butted against their legs, sensing he was being left out of a bit of cuddling.

"Regardless, it's getting late and I have to be up early in the morning. Go ahead and lock up and reset the alarm. I'm going to go downstairs and get in a quick workout before bed." Sara slipped out of Ian's embrace and headed into the basement, where Ian had built them a private gym. Working out always seemed to help her make sense of things and put them into perspective.

Ian sat at the kitchen table and put his head in his hands. Kenneth Irons. Why? Why, now that he had found the first real happiness in his life? Irons would always control a part of him, there was no escaping it. Even if he went back to Irons it wouldn't be over for Sara. Irons would still want to draw her to him in an effort to control the Witchblade. Ian sighed. He was sworn to be Sara's protector, but he was also her husband. How the hell was he going to protect her from a foe that controlled a part of him? He sat for a while longer, until the questions running through his head threatened to drive him mad. He stood and put his ear to the basement door. Sara was still working out, he could clearly hear the clank of the weights. Maybe a swim would be the thing to make him feel better. He turned off the floodlight that was pointed to the backyard and took his clothes off, leaving them in a neatly folded pile by the door. Walking naked out the door he dived into the pool quickly, fearing the neighbors might catch sight of him even though the shrubbery surrounding their backyard was high.

Swimming through the cool water with powerful strokes, Ian swam a few laps easily. The sound of the water against the sides of the pool was relaxing. He treaded water for a few minutes before diving under and sitting on the pool's bottom. He kept his eyes on his watch, testing his ability to stay submerged. Finally unable to hold his breath any longer, he rose to the surface and gasped for air. He made his way out of the pool, water clinging to his well-muscled body, his dark hair forming ringlets. He slapped at his shoulder as he felt something bite at his skin. He didn't see the small, feathered dart fall into the pool and drift into the cleanout.

Sara was in the kitchen holding his clothes when he hurried back in through the door. "Looking for these?" she grinned.

"Actually no, I was hoping to talk you out of yours." He drew her close to him for a deep kiss. "Hmm...scratch my shoulder for me? The mosquitoes are out early this year."

Sara obliged him drawing her nails across the offending spot on his shoulder and then dragging them down his back. Without another word, Ian swept her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, his eyes dark with need for her.

Helmut sat by the sliding glass door, a rumbling growl in his throat as his keen eyes saw the bushes move ever so slightly. He laid down, putting his head on his paws, but his eyes remained open, scanning, watching the backyard for further movement.

The smell of coffee woke Sara early in the morning. She stretched and yawned, easing out of the bed so not to wake Ian. She slipped on her robe, looping the belt into a loose knot. Barefoot, she padded into the kitchen where Helmut greeted her happily. She poured herself a cup of brew and then filled Helmut's bowls of food and water.

Sara peered out the peephole, trying to see if the paper had arrived yet. It had. It was still very early and most of the neighborhood was still asleep. She opened the front door, trying to be quiet, and slipped outside and grabbed the newspaper from the yard, hoping no one had looked out their window and seen her in her robe. She dashed back in and closed the door, locking it. She looked at the security panel on the wall beside the door. It was the best that they could find. It was professionally installed and they paid for monitoring. Between the alarm, Helmut and the Witchblade surely they would be forewarned of any invasion of their home. Sara returned to the kitchen, sighing as she sat down to read the paper and to finish her coffee.

The man stepped out from behind the thick trunk of an elm tree. He had taken refuge there when the woman had sneaked out to get her newspaper. She was very lovely in nothing but her flimsy little robe. He smiled at his thoughts. The man was home now though, it was the time to just watch. And wait.

Standing in front of the large fireplace, its gentle light flickering across his pale face, Kenneth Irons faced the large man. "Are you sure it was a hit?" He placed his hand across the back of the large leather chair nearest him.

"Yes Sir. Direct hit, Sir."

"Excellent work." Irons studied the man before him. He was in prime physical condition, ebony skin rippling above the powerful muscles of his arms as he stood at attention. The man's shaven head reflecting the firelight as his intelligent eyes remained locked on Irons. Hector Mobius was a failure turned into a success thanks to the personality-altering drugs of Dr. Immo. Ian had nearly killed Immo several months ago, but thankfully the Doctor had made a full recovery. "You will continue to observe Ian Nottingham and report back to me as there are any changes."

"Yes Sir."

"Dismissed." Irons watched as Mobius left the room, a small smile playing across his thin lips.

Sara dressed for work quickly and quietly. She glanced down at the form of her sleeping husband before she left the bedroom. She smiled. Funny how grown men look so innocent and child-like when they sleep. Opening the bedroom door to slip out, she inadvertently let Helmut in. The large dog crept up on the bed and snuggled in beside his sleeping Master without disturbing him in the least. Sara laughed to herself. Let sleeping dogs lie. With a grin on her face she closed the door silently and headed for the front door. It was a beautiful morning and she was going to truly enjoy the ride to work.

The man watched as Sara pushed the motorcycle to the end of the block before starting it. How thoughtful, she was trying not to wake the man. He watched as she straddled the Buell and took off in the direction of her work. Perhaps he'd call her later. He so loved to hear her voice, fright and frustration creeping into it as he remained silent on the line.

Sara and Jake went to speak to the brother of the dead socialite as the first order of business. The meeting was entirely unproductive in Sara's eyes. The brother told them nothing that wasn't already in the file Joe had given her. She actually found herself wishing Danny would show up so she could ask him to drag the socialite to her. She and Jake went back to the precinct and began tackling paperwork. By mid-afternoon the mountains of file folders cluttering their desks had been reduced to manageable stacks.

Joe Siri poked his head in the office and smiled. "How's it going?"

Sara smiled back at Joe, "Going ok, just working on some of these reports and case files."

Joe crooked his finger at Sara, "Can I ask you something in private?"

"Sure, Joe. Excuse me a minute, Jake." Sara stood and went out into the hallway with Joe. "What's up, Joe?"

Joe looked rather embarrassed. "The wife said I should keep my curiosity to myself, but the old detective in me has to ask." He grinned at Sara. "If it's a touchy subject just tell me to butt the hell out, but I was wondering about those gloves Ian wears all the time."

Sara nodded. "I wondered if you had noticed. I hope he didn't offend Mary by wearing them during dinner."

Joe shook his head, "No, nothing like that. It's just an old man's curiosity." He smiled.

"Ian's hands are extremely sensitive. He wears the gloves to protect himself."

"Mary thought as much, she even suggested to me that he may have been burned or something."

"No, no burns."

"Allright, well I guess I'll have to tell Mary she was right when I get home." Joe smiled, "Won't be a first."

Sara laughed. "I should have warned you guys, but it never occurred to me. I'm just used to him.

Joe nodded. "You've got a good man there, Pezzini. I meant what I said about lining him up with some work."

"Thanks, Joe." Sara hugged Joe and went back into the office.

Joe walked down the corridor. Odd. Sensitive hands. He wears the gloves to protect "himself", not to protect "them." He shrugged. Probably nothing.

The phone rang and Sara picked it up. "Pezzini."

Silence.

Sara slammed the phone down. Jake raised an eyebrow at her, "Something wrong?"

"Yeah, I keep getting these calls where nobody says anything. It has been happening at home too. I'm getting really ticked with them."

Jake nodded. "Maybe have a trace put on them?"

Sara shook her head, "They don't stay on the line long enough." She sighed and picked the phone back up. She dialed and waited for an answer.

"Nottingham residence." Ian answered the phone. His voice sounded odd today for some reason. Sara wondered if he'd been asleep.

"Hey baby, it's me. I just got another one of those calls here at the office. Just wanted to make sure you had the alarm set, especially if you're going to take a nap or anything."

"A nap sounds really good actually. I'm not feeling very well today."

"You're sick?" Sara furrowed her brow.

"A little under the weather. It is nothing to be concerned about. Helmut and I were watching television, but a nap sounds like a better idea. Maybe I will get a hot drink and then go lie down."

"I'm coming home."

"No, do not let me disrupt your work." Ian stared at the phone. She'd already hung up.

Sara told Jake she was heading home to tend to Ian and headed for her bike. As she straddled the Buell, she noticed the piece of paper tucked between the seat and the gas tank. She picked it out and unfolded it, the handwriting was unfamiliar to her.

Sara,

The note was unsigned. Sara crumpled it and shoved it in her pocket before starting the motorcycle and heading for home.