Author's Note: This is long. And when I say long I don't mean it lightly, think Costco size long, economy size long, looooooooong. But because it is long doesn't mean it isn't fun.
Without farther ado about nothing, my fan fiction.
God, I hate this, Sara muttered to herself as she took a sip of her cider. Youd think the N.Y.P.D. would be staffed enough to stop needing back up from other departments. She took a long glance across the ballroom. It reminded her of the part in My Fair Lady when all the people dressed in black and white to pretend to the horse race when they just went to see and be seen. Sara almost expected someone to come up to her and say with signature English round vowels and perfect articulation spout, How do you do? then break into song. Damn. Now Ill have Wouldnt It Be Lovely stuck in my head.
She bit back on a yawn as she turned her sights to the far corner of the room to the food table. Men and women were all flocking around it like a bunch of sea gulls, but none of them really were into the food, just the fact that, thats were the most activity was. This was nothing like any of the parties she had been to. Everyone was still sober and the music was far too mellow for anyone to really get into it, speaking for herself mostly. Sara felt like she had been dunked in a tank full of sharks with her playing as diver, trying to just slip in unnoticed. Yeah, right. Try to blend in here She knew with a cruel clarity that the moment she opened her mouth anyone would know she didnt have status to be here, that was why she was there alone.
A woman passed on her way to the punch bowl, the ever-buzzing epicenter of activity. She was tall and carried herself so stiffly Sara had to look twice that she wasnt in any pain. The woman glanced back from her high horse and gave her a disdaining look before smoothing her clingy ebony dress. Sara knew that the lady was hating her for wearing something that was out of the norm, but being the way she was, Sara wasnt going to let that bother her.
Was this a theme colored party? What was with all the women insisting in wearing black? Its not like anyone is going to call you fat, Honey... she joked to herself. The glass was cool in her hand like the December wind outside. Everything else was warm, but suffocating, stuffy with formality. So many gowns and tuxes and for what? Some European monarchs came for a little vacation and all members of the fortune five hundred wanted to give them the whole sparkled penguin show. Maybe if I wasnt on the job, as well as this soiree being on a Saturday night, I might enjoy this, she thought idly as a brunette cutie from across the room made eye contact.
Oh, what big eyes you have, Sara inwardly smiled. Tuxedo was cut to fit his tall lean form, mentally she put him in jeans and still found him attractive. Brown Hair got props for that He was handsome, she decided with and without the tux. Hair wasnt buzzed or rocker long, yet long enough to be close to HIS. Very sexy eye candy to observe. Very nice but not nice enough to make up for missing Saturday Night Live with Brad Pitt as host again, especially since she missed the last one. Mr. Pitt and his smoldering bedroom eyes flirting with Mango verses staying in a room full of tight wads for three and a half hours... Gee tough decision At the thought, her mood was spoiled again and she no longer found it entertaining checking out the men. In an effort to boost her mood she brought up the mental image of Mary Katherine Ghallager here making out with a chair in front of all these people brought a smile to her mouth as she took another drink.
And who should I spy but Detective Pezzini, a pigeon among the doves, a familiar voice greeted breaking her thoughts. Are you lost? Sara whirled around mouth full of vulgar insults that fell away when she saw Kenneth Irons in his own gorilla suit. Against her ideals she automatically found herself giving him the look over just as she had the brunette. Disgusted, scolded herself silently and tried to pretend it never happened.
I have two automatics strapped to my thighs and loaded. Dont provoke me she answered coolly not looking in his direction anymore to save her from the smug grin on his face. A waiter passed and she gave him a sweet smile and her empty glass, taking another. The waiter gave his own smile back and went off with a bounce in his step. Feeling a little better, Sara continued, Im not here to try to fit in if thats what your implying, Mr. Irons. Im guarding you and your little friends in case if some psycho decided to crash this tea party. If I had a choice I wouldnt be here..
Forgive me, for assuming. I should have known, the man said with a laugh in his voice. Sara felt his eyes on her. She pretended not to notice as she took a gulp of her drink wishing she could have some alcohol but thought better being on duty. The Witchblade wasnt so willing to hide distaste, it brightened and hissed causing her skin to crawl. I didnt know you owned any dresses, Kenneth added softly, his hand hovered to touch her arm. Sara turned her gaze away again, trying not to let him know that she was getting uncomfortable. Oh my god, he CANT be checking me out Damn. Damn. Damn. What goes around comes around..
She looked down on the red number Vickie gave her. It was clingy, just enough not to be skanky. It was the kind of dress that youd think Julia Roberts would own but wore only once. It was complete with the slit from the mid thigh down. She had been very reluctant to even go even though it was practically mandatory but in the back of her head she had a great sickness excuse just waiting to be used. She almost hadnt gone to this stupid party. In fact she decided to go at the last minute. The red dress was all she could come up with at short notice. Vickie insisted that she looked fine and even urged that she keep it because she could never wear it again knowing it looked better on someone else. Sara now wished she hadnt chosen such a drastic color. Is it the dress? she wondered, or the fact that Im playing fancy thats making Ken Irons check me out? Or is it the fact that I was stupid enough to decide to give him the look over? Ugh No. No. No. No. This cant be happening. I have to be hallucinating. Whether I do or dont own any dresses is none of your business, Sara managed in the most polite way. And what are you doing thinking about whats in my closet? What would the tabloids think? Kenneth Irons fantasizes about young police womans wardrobe that cant be good for a man of your statures image...
Another laugh, he didnt bite like she anticipated but was enjoying her hostility. Alright, Sara I surrender. But I would like to come out and say in all honesty you are looking quite stunning this evening.
