Title: Late Night Conversations
Author: Sare Liz, [email protected]
Series: None
Fandom: Witchblade, TV Series
Ratings: PG-13, Sara/Ian, RST
Archive: www.teknovamp.com; all others ask.
Disclaimer: The characters depicted below do not belong to me.

Summary: Nottingham and Pez hash out a few details of their predestined working relationship.
Author's Note: This is my first fic in the fandom, hence the distinguishing lack of description. If there ends up being more fic in the offing, I do promise it will get better. Constructive criticism and feedback is always happily accepted. Flames will be used to light the cigar of my Head Muse who, I do warn you, is the best at what he does and what he does *isn't* very nice.

*

Have you ever stopped to think about the connectedness of it all, Sara?

Been there, done that.

If you had, I wouldn't be telling you now, again. You've had a lot thrown at you lately. How much of it have you been able to absorb?

Enough. What's your point?

That's the point, Sara. You haven't absorbed it. It's swirling around your mind like a whirlwind of dust and you'll never see it clearly until you calm the wind.

And how, Ian, do you propose I do that? Magic mushrooms?

The Witchblade will show you if you let it.

Of course. I should have guessed. And exactly what am I going to see this time?

Who you are. Who you've been. Who you can become.

I've seen who I was and I got a news flash for you buddy, you were there.

You and I are more connected than you want to admit.

You'd be surprised what I'm willing to admit to these days, Ian.

You would admit that the Witchblade has chosen you because of who you are and because of your bloodline, and that you are better at what you do with it than without it?

If I did?

I might admit that I too was chosen by the Witchblade for similar reasons, if not a different purpose.

What do you mean, different purposes?

What have you been dreaming, Sara?

You name it, I've dreamt it. Answer my question.

Given enough time I'm sure you could come up with an answer for yourself.

Ian? Shit.

*

Sara... You've done well tonight.

Thanks for the positive reinforcement. Was there another point to this call?

You're very testy tonight, Sara. You need to learn to relax. Get out more.

Oh, you are so one to talk. I'm willing to bet you can't even spell relax, much less know how to go about it in a social setting.

R-E-L-A-X. You lose, and since you didn't specify, I get to choose my forfeit.

You must be joking.

I'm sure my sense of humor doesn't extend as far as that.

Well, your answer is no.

You haven't even heard my question, yet.

I can imagine it. And the answer is still no.

Why?

Maybe I don't want my beer tab reported back to Irons.

Twenty-three dollars and fifty cents, but this isn't about him.

Then who is it about?

You.

And?

Me.

Goodnight, Ian.

*

For being the personal bodyguard of Irons you sure follow me around a lot. There something you wanna tell me about?

Yes.

Well?

There are many things I want to tell you about, Sara. There are very few things I can.

Why can't you?

I am forbidden.

Ah yes. And you're the perfect obedient soldier. What's your model number, anyway?

My loyalty is not something you need to question.

Yes, unless Irons wakes up on the wrong side of the bed some day and decides to hate me, in which case we'll see how well the Witchblade really does work against you.

We've covered this before, Sara. You're asking the wrong questions.

Yea, well, why don't you just direct me to the right ones, then?

Goodnight, Sara Pezzini.

*

Why do I even bother locking my door, Ian? Are you at all familiar with the concept of personal space? How about knocking?

Someone needs to keep you on your toes, Sara.

Hey, don't knock the lulls. They keep you sane.

And what drives you insane?

Tall, dark and... brooding... men wandering through my apartment as if it were Grand Central Station, intent on confusing me. Drives me nuts. Makes me want to start shooting things.

Do you want to shoot me, Sara?

Occasionally. Might be therapeutic, you know?

Do you want to shoot me now?

What, with you looking so dashing in all black? Oh wait, you look like a common street thug. Nevermind.

Do you want to shoot me now, Sara?

No.

Good. I don't want to shoot you either.

What a relief. I can sleep tonight, knowing I'll be safe for now.

You'll always be safe, if I can help it.

Uh huh. Have you appointed yourself *my* personal body guard now? Won't Irons be jealous?

Yes and no.

Which is it, Ian?

Yes I am. No he won't.

It's too early for April Fool's, Nottingham. Go home and do whatever it is killer lap dogs do in their off hours.

You're not going to make this easy, are you Sara? Nothing is ever easy with you.

Not a damn thing. Go away, Nottingham.

Don't you even want to know why?

Nope.

*

What the fuck was that about?

I thought you didn't want to know.

I changed my mind. Spill it.

You need to learn control. I can still help you with that, Sara.

Yea? Help me how, exactly?

Only through understanding can you control the power the Witchblade brings you.

How the hell can you teach me that? I thought the Witchblade didn't like men.

It doesn't. No matter how long they've trained, no matter how deep their devotion, no matter how strong their will - the Witchblade always rejects them, sometimes more cruelly than others.

...You wore it, didn't you? Irons lied - he wasn't the only man to ever put it on, was he? The guy with the claw hand, he wore it, and you did too, only you didn't lose your hand. ...but, loyalty. It's about loyalty with you, isn't it? It wasn't the drug therapy that tied you this close to Irons was it? It was him letting you wear the Witchblade. Holy shit.

...

Say something, dammit.

...

Say *something*. Give me *something* to work with.

...

Why... Why did you do that?

I do so few things in my life that I want to do.

You wanted to kiss me?

Yes.

Are you lying?

I am incapable of lying to you, Sara.

You... The... You're not tied to Irons, are you? You serve the Witchbl-

...

Why do you keep doing that? Why do you keep kissing me?

Because I want to. Because I can.

...I have dreams.

Yes.

We're... intimate in them.

Yes.

Have you ever had those dreams?

Yes.

Oh. So it's a full service position, being my bodyguard, then?

Yes.

Oh. Well...

We were destined, Sara. It doesn't make me want you any less because of it.

I wouldn't try that line with anyone else, by the way. It sucks.

Do you doubt my sincerity?

Amazingly, no.

Always so sarcastic, Sara, always afraid of being hurt. I won't hurt you, Sara.

...

You can't protect everyone but you don't need to protect me.

If I... become attached... to you, it'll just be signing your death warrant. It doesn't pay to be my friend.

Are we friends, Sara?

I don't know what we -

Are we friends, Sara?

No.

No, we aren't. I can be anything you need me to be, but I can't be your friend.

You're not allowed?

I don't know how.

Oh. Oh. Well, that we can work on. In the meantime...

Yes, in the meantime.

Mmm, has anyone ever told you that you are a spectacular kisser?

No, my sweet.

Well then, they were all idiots. Talent like yours should be complemented on a regular basis.

Thank you, but there were no 'all'.

What do you mean?

I have had no other lovers.

Who- What?

Does it bother you, that you're the first?

You mean the only, don't you?

Yes. Does it?

Strangely no. It should though, it really should. You're over thirty. And where did you learn to kiss, then?

You. Dreams of you.

Oh. Well. Let's see what else you learned, then, shall we?

I've been a very diligent student, my sweet.

*

You got laid, didn't you?

What?

You've turned down every single offering of caffeine in the past three days.

Don't be ridiculous. I'm trying to quit.

No body tries to lay off coffee unless they have to, and you're healthy as a horse. You got some over the weekend, didn't you?

I don't know where you come up with these things.

And you're still getting it, because you haven't tried to put me in traction yet. Who's the lucky guy? Do I know him?

No, you haven't been introduced.

When am I going to meet him?

Try never.

***