Chapter Text
Some time considerably later...
the feel of leather on skin, as, once again, she found herself disarmed by Ian Nottingham, in more ways than one.
Somehow, in the time it had taken her to find him, he had changed again... this time into a black on black Armani suit that fit him like a glove and sent fond thoughts of what it would be like to remove it, slowly, through Sara's mind for a brief moment before she recalled herself.
"Nottingham!!! What the hell do you think you're playing at?" When in doubt, go for attitude. It had always been her motto in life, and she found it especially applicable now.
"Sara...." he said quietly. Was he laughing at her? She'd kill him. "There's no need to be violent. I am merely taking you out for dinner." He handed her gun back with a gallant flourish. She took it and re-holstered it with more force than strictly necessary.
"Oh, really?" she shot back. "You ever hear of simply asking a girl out?"
"Well, yes, I have. But tell me, would it have been nearly as much fun?"
While she still wanted to slug him, she had to admit he was right. It had been a pleasant day, overall.
"Seriously, Sara. Will you do me the honor of sharing a meal with me?"
"Oh, all right," she said with as much grace as she could muster at the moment, which wasn't much. "At least let me go inside and wash up."
"But of course. I will look forward to your return." With that, he draped himself decoratively over one of the wrought-iron chairs and settled in to wait.
Sara rolled her eyes, admiring the view, but hardly wanting to admit to it, as she went inside to clean herself up.
Kitty stretched and got up to answer the call of nature. As she stepped into the hall, she sidestepped quickly. "Mage!!! Mr. Nottingham!!!!!" The tuxedo-ed part-Siamese ex-tom merely looked up at her, round yellow eyes staring up as if to say, "What? It's a gift. What's your problem?" Reading the look, one feline to another, she responded. "My problem is that I don't like stepping on headless rodents. And I don't eat them either. So, please stop gifting me with them." He merely looked offended at her and stalked off, tail held high, as she went downstairs to retrieve some paper towels to remove the offending corpse.
As she entered the ladies' room, she was surprised to see the willowy blonde standing at the sink, the one who'd been draping herself all over Nottingham all day. Surprised and more than a little irritated to see her here, she decided to take the opportunity and get a few answers.
"Who are you?"
Unruffled by the intense woman in front of her, Selene replied calmly, "Selene Blackbourne."
"What are you to Nottingham, his girlfriend?"
If only.... Selene thought sadly as she parried the question with her own. "What did he tell you I was?"
"Nothing, yet. That's why I'm asking you."
Selene replied with quiet dignity. "I am Mr. Nottingham's personal assistant."
Something about the woman just set Sara off... perhaps it was her svelte good looks, perhaps the way she carried herself, even when under attack, that made Sara snap back, "Oh, really? And just how personal does it get?"
The temperature in the room dropped about ten degrees, as the woman's voice went as ice-blue as her eyes. "I am a Vorschlag employee, Detective. I assist Mr. Nottingham in the performance of his work-related duties. And that is all."
Sara finally realized she had gone too far and attempted to apologize. "Hey, look. I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."
"You're right. It was." Then her voice softened. "But I can understand why you might feel that way. He is the catch of a lifetime. But I don't play those games at work, and..." she shrugged. "even if I did, I wouldn't have a chance anyway. Don't let a good thing slip through your fingers, okay? Advice from someone who's been there." She gathered up her purse and started walking away.
"Hey, you forgot your..." Sara called after her, noticing the box on the counter.
"It's for you. From Mr. Nottingham," Selene called over her shoulder as she left.
Sara went over and looked at the box. Sure enough, there was the tag on it, written in Nottingham's odd, old-fashioned script.
For Sara...
She opened the box carefully, then gasped. The dress was exquisite, the red of the velvet exactly the right shade to set off her eyes. She touched it reverently, then saw the jewelry box resting on top of it. She picked it up and opened it, gasping again as she saw the magnificent pendent. Carefully, she unhooked the rope chain from its slits and held the necklace up to herself. It looked as if it had been made for her. Who knew? With Nottingham, it might well have been. She laid the necklace carefully back down and picked the dress up out of the box, holding it up to herself as well. It too, looked as if it had been made just for her. She smiled a little shyly as she slipped into a stall to change.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Sara stepped out on the patio a bit self-consciously, the events of the day swirling in her mind. She had seen Ian laid bare, both body and soul. How could she now face him over dinner this evening without giving the game away completely? She was seeing sides of him that she hadn't known even existed, and while he had obviously known he was followed, did he know how much she had seen today? What would he ask for in return? Sara was both nervous and strangely excited by the idea of him perhaps turning the tables on their little game of discovery.
"Um, Kitty?" She didn't even reply, just gave the Bird a look that could melt bricks. "I'm sorry to bother you, but, the contest entries are supposed to be done in two days.... Another heavy sigh. She was going to start hyperventilating if she didn't stop soon. So many stalkers, so little time... this story would have to wait. Again.
Ian stood in respect and awe as Sara approached. As she walked towards him across the small brick-walled patio, the twin stones of carnelian and onyx gleaming at her wrist and throat in the soft light, she smiled, hearing the small gasp of wonder that escaped him.
"Sara," he breathed, taking her hand in the manner of the days of old and kissing it reverently. "The stars themselves cannot compare to your exquisite beauty."
She smiled shyly, acknowledging his admiration. "Thanks. You look pretty good yourself."
He laughed gently, her words setting the evening free. "Thank you. Please, sit." As she did so, he reached down beside the chair where he had been sitting and brought up a sweet-smelling bundle tied in red ribbon. "These are for you."
As he handed her the bundle, Sara could see that it was a bouquet of roses: eleven white, and one so red it was nearly black. "They're beautiful. Thank you." As she cast about for a place to safely put them, Ian reached down again and pulled up a crystal vase, complete with water. Sara laughed as Ian set it on the table and helped arrange the flowers into it. "You thought of everything."
"I tried."
"I think you succeeded," she responded as they both sat and the waiter came out to get their drink orders and hand them their menus.
After the waiter had brought their drinks, taken their orders, and disappeared back inside the restaurant again, Sara looked over at Ian in curiosity and amazement. "Why did you do all this?"
"What?"
"Today. Why did you do it?"
"Because I could tell you wanted a game. And I had time." He shrugged, a beautiful movement all its own. "Did you like what you saw?"
She spluttered into her drink as his words caught her off-guard. Well, there was the answer to that little question. Still, it was something else again to have the words so plainly out on the table between them. The crimson rose in her cheeks, nearly matching the rose.
"May I take that as a 'yes', then, Sara?"
She glared at him, trying to see if he was making fun of her, but he seemed quite serious. "Yes, I did," she replied, deciding to brazen it out.
He bowed his head to her in acknowledgement of a game well-played. "I am glad."
She let it pass and was saved from further comment by the arrival of the appetizer. They ate in companionable silence. When the dishes had been cleared away and they were once more left alone, Sara took the opportunity to ask the question that had been bothering her all day. "So, who is Selene?"
He sighed, knowing that it had been just a matter of time. "Why do you ask, Sara?"
"You two seemed close. I was just curious." The streak of jealousy coming through her voice brought out the devil in him, and Ian couldn't resist playing with her a little.
"We are... inseparable. I would be totally lost without her." At Sara's expression, Ian relented, laughing gently. "Sara, she is my personal assistant, my colleague, and that is all. But I really would be lost without her."
At his horrified expression on his face at the thought of having to navigate the executive waters on his own, Sara relaxed, looking down at the table, a little embarrassed that she hadn't taken Selene at her word. "Okay... just checking...."
"Does it really matter so much then?" Ian's voice came floating across the table, soft and subtly passionate.
"Maybe." Sara looked up to see intense amber eyes boring in to hers. She opened her mouth to elaborate, when she was saved again by the waiter, this time with the entrée. She thought to herself that she was definitely going to have to add to the guy's tip.
"Maybe?" he asked, not willing to drop the subject just yet. He was enjoying this unusual closeness of the day, and he was afraid that if he let this go, she would pull back into herself and he would lose the rare opportunity to learn more about her, things that could not be discovered merely by lurking out on a fire escape.
"Maybe." Her reply indicated that he would get no more out of her on the subject. They ate in silence for a few moments, then she looked over at him again. "Why did she help you?"
Ian answered, allowing the change of tack for now. "It is Secretaries' Day today, Sara. The flowers and the meal I would have done for her in any case. And when I told her about what I wanted to do for you, she offered to help."
"So, there's nothing between you?"
"Respect, gratitude, admiration, yes. Attraction, no. Although she is a beautiful woman , there is only one who holds my heart and my desire." His gaze caught hers once more and she had to look away, unsure of exactly what to say to that.
After a moment, Ian released her, asking, "So, why did you choose to follow me today?" A question that was, in its own way, no less intense than the comment had been.
Silence stretched between them, as Sara considered her answer. Why had she chosen to follow him today? Boredom, curiosity... something else perhaps? Something best not thought of. "I guess I wanted to see how the other half lives... maybe turn the tables on you for once. Stalk the stalker."
He smiled, his face lighting up with a joy that Sara had seldom seen. "I'm flattered, Sara. And thank you. You have turned an obligation into a real pleasure for me today."
She arrived back at her computer and began again. A few minutes later, another AIM message popped up from another one of her authors. "Kitty? Could you please kick my Muse for me?" She sighed again. Hyperventilation, here I come. Just when did I get tapped as the Muse Kicker of the WBC? Oh, yeah, when I volunteered. Silly me. I really should have remembered what my husband says about volunteering. "Sure. Just give me a minute."
Seizing the opportunity, Sara asked one of the other questions that she had wanted to ask him ever since she had first caught him lurking outside her life. "So, Nottingham, why do you follow me everywhere? You could give a girl the wrong impression. Or a cop."
"As I have told you many times Sara, it is my duty...."
"No, Nottingham. The real reason...." She didn't really know why she was pushing this so hard, but somewhere in the back of her mind the thought came that the answer was important.
Silence again, so long that Sara was afraid that he was angry with her. But then his eyes met hers, and she saw something entirely different in their amber depths, lightening now to the color of clover honey.
"Because, Sara, it is more than obligation that I feel for you." Daring for daring... matching her courage with his own. Truly this had been a day for boldness.
"Did it ever occur to you to just ask?"
He sat back, shocked. Could it really be that easy? "No," he said slowly, "I am afraid that it did not."
"Maybe it should have." Sara could not believe the words were coming out of her mouth, and yet she found that she did not regret them in the slightest.
And... just as she hit the 'Save' button, the screen froze. "Oh, no, you don't, you..." she trailed off into something Gaelic that needed no translation. "You better have 'Auto-Saved' this or I swear that I will shoot you!" she told the computer warningly as she rebooted. "Okay... you get to live... this time." she told it as she found it had been obedient and went back to work, scenting the sweet smell of victory nearing.
"Very well, I am asking. May I see you sometime?"
"You mean actually come in by the front door?" she retorted, only the sparkle in her eye letting him know that she was teasing him.
"Yes, I mean coming in by the front door and everything," he replied, enjoying the easy camaraderie that this meal was affording them and wondering if he even dared hope for more.
"I think I'd like that... Ian." The use of his first name by her, rare as it was, was sweet music to his ears.
"I will remember that, Sara." Pledge and promise both in his voice, sending little shivers of warning up Sara's spine.
"Ian..." she said quietly.
"Yes, Sara?" Had he gone too far? Pushed her too hard in his joy at her acceptance of his suit? His heart leaped into his mouth at the thought of what she might say.
"No promises... okay? And no pressure." Her voice, half apologetic and half stern, brought him back down to earth with a thud.
"Of course not, Sara." Some of the joy had gone out of his face, but his voice was quiet, accepting what she was willing to give.
Her eyes widened a little, surprised that he was willing to let her slip out of the topic. "It's just... I just..." She looked at him, a bit exasperated with herself. "I just don't want there to be any misunderstandings," she replied lamely.
He brightened again as he realized that she had not been trying to put him off, but had honestly been trying to spare his feelings. "Thank you, Sara. I will remember that as well."
The rest of the meal passed uneventfully, as the two traded war stories and got to know each other a little better. Sara was pleasantly surprised to learn that there was considerably more to her gothic stalker than she had thought. He was an extremely pleasant dinner companion, well-educated without making her feel stupid by comparison, a dry sense of humor that matched her own, and a shared level of experience that she found exceedingly comfortable, like she was coming home after a long time away.
When finally the meal was over, the dessert and coffee consumed, the dishes cleared and the bill paid, Sara rose reluctantly from her seat. It was a pity that the night had to end, that tomorrow would most likely find them back to old habits and older arguments. She watched as he got up as well, swearing she could see the same reluctance in his eyes. On impulse, she walked around the table and went to him. It was such a small gift, but she hoped that it might convey some of her gratitude and happiness. She pulled his head down and kissed him.
"EEEEEEEEAAAAaaaaaaaaaaa!!" Kitty jumped out of her chair to find out what on earth could cause a tiny puppy to attempt to shatter glass. Upon seeing the poor pathetic creature an inch away from Mama, she gently reattached him. "Gimli, you are being such a typical male." She shook her head and went back to the computer.
It started out so simply... just a chaste kiss to thank him for a day turned into one of the most fun that she had had in a long time. But as soon as their lips met, they both knew this was far, far more. The kiss steadily deepened, first one than the other, as they both simultaneously fed and were fed in turn by the flames of the other's desire. When, after long moments, they finally broke apart, it was to see the fires reflected in each other's eyes as well. They both stood a little awkwardly, trying to adapt to this new scenario.
Finally, Sara broke the silence. "Uhm... well, yeah. That was... nice." After another silence she amended. "No, that was fucking wonderful." Another silence ensued, during which the look in Ian's eyes told Sara all she needed to know... that he considered it pretty fucking wonderful himself.
"Look," she said awkwardly, almost a little shyly. "You want to come over to my place for a little while... hang out, maybe down a few? No promises, but, you know, see where it goes?"
"I would be most honored to share the pleasure of your company whenever and however you wish. I have the rest of the night off... my time and my person are both at your disposal."
"Uh... yeah." She blushed scarlet as the implications sank in.
He saw her reaction and blushed himself. "I'm sorry. I did not mean..." he broke off as he was pulled down for another kiss.
As she finally let him go, she said, "I know you didn't. It's okay. No pressure either, remember?"
"Yes, Sara, I remember. Thank you for allowing me to do all of this for you. It has been... fun."
I'll just bet it has. she thought, but said only, "You're welcome. And thank you. This has been one of the best days I've had in a long time."
"You are also most welcome. Shall we go?"
She nodded reluctantly, almost sad that the Cinderella part of the evening would soon be over. Though, perhaps, not the best part. She looked over at Nottingham. No promises, but the beginning of a friendship. Yes, this had been one of the best days in a very long time. She turned and followed Ian inside to change.
The computer crashed one more time as she posted it to the board, but after the appropriate cuss words, she got it to behave. As she hit the 'Add Post' button at last, she sighed with the satisfaction of a deed well done. Triumphant, she sat back to watch the stats rise as the ff-stalkers gathered like grateful vultures at a fresh kill.