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“Why Sara?” Irons hid the irritation in his voice. He knew about Ian’s growing infatuation for Sara, but the thought that she may feel something in return, no matter how minute, had bothered him greatly.

“I have a few more questions I wanted to ask him.”

She wanted to know exactly what happened the night of the Irish massacre. Sara was sure he was the only one coherent enough to remember since the others were…dead. Everything about that night had been a blur. All she could remember was John dying in her arms and then Jake waking her up, helping her out of the warehouse before the police got there. She was still unsure how the blade got back on her arm.

But these were questions she needed to ask Nottingham not Irons. She had no doubt Nottingham had told Irons everything; he was still Irons’ servant, wasn’t he? Sara tried to get some reassurance by discreetly rubbing the blade and in return she felt it warm up once again on her arm. ‘You definitely have something to tell me, don’t you?’ Sara thought sarcastically.

“Why detective, is Ian another one of your suspects again?" Sara hated that smirk and just wanted to knock it off his face with the Witchblade.

“Well Mr. Irons that’s between Nottingham and myself.” Irons’ grip had tightened on the handle of the cane as he eyed Sara shrewdly. He was sure there was something more to Sara’s inquiry about Ian.

Irons could not afford to speculate on what they would be discussing. He needed to know and Sara was adamant on not telling him. A plan had started to formulate in his mind, to put forward his plans he needed to act on it immediately.

“I will relay your message to Ian that you wish to speak to him, Sara. Now if you will excuse me I can only eat so much crow at one sitting.” Irons ended the conversation with a pert nod.

Without another word Irons turned his back on Sara and headed back towards to the open window. Not needing any other encouragement, Sara took her leave.

Sara’s patience was weaning thin. Just before she left Irons’ office she heard the distance sound of a thunderstorm brewing outside. Now she would have to ride her Buell in the rain if she didn’t hurry and leave. Sara stared at the closed metal doors, frustrated she jabbed the down button once more.

‘Should have used the stairs instead’ She thought. She had taken a step when suddenly the light indicator above flashed and the metal doors hissed opened. Quickly turning she got in. Sara was grateful the car was empty; she really did not need the company on the long flight down.

She pressed the first floor button and just when the doors were about to close the dark enigma gracefully squeezed in. Without a second thought Sara pushed at a button that hesitantly left the doors open. With a finger still on the button she stuck her head out of the elevator hoping to catch someone who was going down.

She may not have wanted the company earlier, but now was the time she hoped someone was coming. To her disappointment there was no one else but the assassin and the cop. Sara turned her head to glance at Nottingham who found a corner and stood at parade rest with his head bowed.

Shaking her head she let out a loud sigh, and removed her finger from the switch. ‘This is going to be a long trip down’ Sara thought to herself. She had wanted to talk to Nottingham but now wasn’t the time. All she had wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed and try to forget the rest of the day. They had passed eight floors in an uncomfortable silence. Nottingham refused to look up from his bowed head and Sara obviously did not want to talk.

With his head bowed, Nottingham looked up from beneath his lashes, noticing Sara’s raising agitation. She stood near the control panel with her back towards the wall of the elevator, arms crossed at her chest, her helmet dangling from her right hand. The Witchblade glowing a light red, yes she was agitated.

Apparently she wasn’t trusting to turn her back to him and she kept her gazed locked on him. It had hurt to think he was the cause of her uneasiness. When all he had wanted, since the moment she was discovered to be the true wielder, was to serve her to the best of his ability. But they had started on a bad note and everything from then on had just gotten worst.

She neither liked nor trusted him and being associated with Kenneth Irons only added to the hatred she already had towards him. As much as Ian wanted for her to trust him he knew the opportunity had been lost.

Thank you Sir Knight! And here is the last chapter for the evening! I do hope you all enjoy!!

“Just what the fuck do you think you are doing, Nottingham!?” Her harsh tone and sharp remarks only ran deeper as she continued.

“If you think something is going to happen between us just because we are going to be stuck her together for another hour or so, that’s were you dead wrong.”

Ian had widened his stance and lowered his head, adverting any chance of eye contact. Knowing fully that if she did see his eyes, though his face would remain stoic, she would no doubt see the anguish in them. Aghast and confounded by her sudden change in attitude.

This was unlike her ‘normal’ abrasive assaults. He knew there was something more, hidden deep within. Yet, Ian was unable to determine what that ‘something’ was. He had been so deep in thought he didn’t hear Sara speaking to him. She had stopped in front of him and jabbed a finger to his chest, capturing his attention.

“Damn it, Nottingham! What are you deaf too? Answer me and stop standing like a damn statue!”

“I would never compromise your honor, Lady Sara. I only wished a simple respite from the rising warmth. I did not realize my…actions were taken offensively. If you wish I will put my clothes back on.” Sara could hear the sincerity in Ian’s voice. Though without her knowledge it had taken all of his strength to remain calm. In hopes that his words and voice were enough to cloak the pain and anguish that had slowly surfaced, reflecting in his eyes.

Sara could not understand why the worst seem to come out of her when ever he was around, but she knew that was the best and only way she could keep her distance. Both physically and mentally. Though she had yet to admit even emotionally. However she could not help but feel a little sorry for him. They were stuck here together, by no fault of his; the lease she could do is being a sport and gives him his small ‘respite’.

At lease she was grateful that she wasn't stuck with Irons or Dante. She watched as Nottingham picks up his silk shirt, which was still drenched from his sweat, off the floor and hurriedly putting it back on. With a heavy sigh, and a guilty conscience Sara began to speak.

“Nottingham look…” Ian had stopped dressing but his head remained bowed. With his arms clasp behind his back Ian listened intently. The silk shirt was left sinfully open. Giving Sara way too much of a distraction to continue on. Copying Ian’s bowed head, Sara averted her eyes, focusing on anything but his body. Clearing her throat Sara continues.

“I’ve been having a really screwed up day, I’m stuck in an elevator for who knows how long, it’s hot and I’m sweating like crazy. I can understand you wanting to get some relief from the heat as well. I’m sure with all that added layers your worst off then I am. So if you want you can stay in your tank top and I won’t bitch about it.”

“I suppose that would be the closest I would get to an apology from you, Sara. And so I accept your offer.”

Ian sneaked a glance from his bowed head. To his surprise Sara had raised an eyebrow and a faint smile could be seen on her face. With a smirk of his own he took off the offensive garment off and started to relax. Sara could see the ghost of a smile form on his lips. Watching him relax in her presence was somewhat reassuring. Knowing even for a brief moment they had both come to a crossroad were they could both be comfortable. Without having to worry about the Witchblade and Kenneth Irons.

~*~
Irons watched the security surveillance of the elevator car from the comforts of his office. It had been hours since he had been informed there had been an electrical malfunction locking all elevator systems. He had been ready to leave sending Ian to retrieve the car when the alarms had gone off leaving him stranded in his office, refusing to walk down the flights of stairs. He had chose to remain behind until Ian returned but that was until he had found out that his servant had been stuck in the elevator car with Sara.

He watched now in silence, unfortunately something had gone wrong with the audio of the security cameras along with everything else. Leaving Irons to guess what the two had been talking about. At first he had been startled to find out that they were stuck together.

He knew the Witchblade had wanted to send Sara a vision while she was here, he felt the burning sensation from the mark on his right hand, but Sara had refused to acknowledge the blade at that time. And the fact she wished to speak with Ian left him more curious.

But after watching the display of body languages Irons had not been too worried. Sara still held her bitterness towards Ian. That was until Ian decided to make a show of himself by stripping down to his tank top and Sara so blatantly staring. Irons felt the rising lust from Sara as she watched him undress.

Irons held his breath waiting to see what was going to occur between the two, then the predictable happened. Sara had grown agitated and lashed out at Ian. Irons leaned back into his chair with a satisfied smirk on his lips, elbows resting on the arms of the chair, and fingers pressed together in front of him. His smirk soon faded when he recognize the small camaraderie that had suddenly form between the two right under his own scrutiny. With a heavy hand, Irons slammed it down onto his glass desk, shaking the contents that lay scattered.

It had bothered Irons that Sara’s minute infatuation with his servant had bothered him but now this little act will not be tolerated. Before the night was over Ian will pay for his insolence. Irons mind started to race, figuring out a way to punish his servant when the phone stared to ring. With his secretary gone for the evening, Irons answered the call.

“Kenneth” The same satisfied smile Irons had returned when he heard the voice ring over the line.

“Is everything prepared as planned, Dr. Immo?”

“Yes, Kenneth. But I must express my concern about this one.”

“We will have this discussion later. He had proven his worth to me. All that concerns me right now is that this ‘one’ is ready?” Irons heard the loud sigh on the other end of the line. With a small pause from Dr. Immo, Irons finally heard what he wanted.

“Yes”

“Good have him ready. His presence is needed sooner then I thought.” Hanging up on the doctor Irons eyed the monitor and continued to watch the two interact with each other.

“Be weary Ian your retribution and darkness awaits you. But I will give one night with your ‘lady’ a small respite indeed.” Irons spoke out to no one in particular as he observes his two most prized possessions: his servant and the Witchblade. He reached over for the phone once again.

“Security”

“This is Mr. Irons. Tell me the situation with the elevators.”

“Yes, Sir. We will have the elevators running in less then 20 minutes, Mr. Irons.”

With the phone still cradled in his hand, Irons looked out of the window. The rainstorm he had seen earlier was soon upon them. He was sure that Sara was unwilling to be riding that bike of hers in the rain. Giving him the chance to offer the fair Sara a ride home and reprieve from the nasty rain. Irons smile had widened, in awe of himself that with every situation he would always come out on top.

“Would it be possible to leave one of the elevator cars remain locked while the rest are up and running?”

The security guard eyed the phone in his hand. It was quite a strange request, but this was Kenneth Irons he was talking to. Everything about the man was strange.

“Yes its possible, Sir. Just which elevator car did you have in mind and how long did you want it locked, Sir?

~*~