Watched the movie with my brother this weekend and this scenario won't leave me alone....they key scene being Ian/Irons and the toy gun...the looks that pass between them. Let me know what you think..
Reasons and Perspectives



I reached to touch the toy gun on the mahogany desk, then pulled back. I would not give him the pleasure. I returned to the window to stare out into the city, one thought and one thought only repeating in my head, he has my son. He has my son, the monster has my son. I should have realized he was up to something when he sent me to Japan on a fruitless endeavor that could have been handled over the phone.

I remember the chill that went thru me flying back to the States. Flashes of his fifth birthday. Him building castles with the lego's I got for him....these were of course to be superceeded by the cowboy sheriff hat and gun set Irons brought for him. I did not want my son to grow up in violence as I had. But the sheer joy on his face when Irons placed that damned hat upon his head and showed him how to "fire" his gun was enough for me to push back the reservations I had about allowing him that type of gift.

"Look Daddy, look!"

"I see." I did see, I saw the smirk on Irons's face, I saw his unspoken dare. "Thank Mr. Irons for your present."

"Thank you Mr. Irons, I love my guns."

"You are welcome, Young Nottingham."

He turned his cherubic little face up to peer at me, "Daddy, now can I learn to fight like you?"

He had watched me do my Kata's most mornings, on the one hand I was proud that he wanted to emulate me, on the other, I was not the type of man I wanted my son to be. "No, you are still to little, you should play, not fight." His bottom lip poked out as shoved his guns deep in their holsters. "I think it is time for you to get ready for bed. "Why don't you choose one of your new books and we shall begin it tonight."

He carefully perused the stack of new books and chose The Hobbit, one of my favorites. He opened it to the first page and read aloud, "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort." He grinned, "this one Daddy?" I smiled and nodded, he ran to his room.

"Tolkien? Very advanced for his age. Perhaps more advanced than you were. I do not remember you reading that well at five."

"Thank you, Sir, for remembering his birthday, it was very kind of you."

"You are welcome, Ian." Irons left with one final smirk.

I made my way to his room anxious to share this time with my son. Disappointment hit me hard when I found him dressed in his pajamas in full cowboy regalia, sound asleep on his bed. I took his hat off and hung it on his bedpost, then began unbuckling the holsters. "Keep them, Daddy?"

"You can not sleep with these."

"Pleeeeese?" Pleading innocent sleepy eyes gazed into mine.

"Just for tonight, only because it is your birthday."

"Kay, Daddy."

I picked him up and placed him under the covers resisting the urge to take him in my arms and carry him over to the rocking chair in the corner. He would protest that he was now to old to be rocked and held. He snuggled into his pillow and smiled slightly when I kissed his forehead. "Happy birthday, my boy."


"Phone for you sir." The flight attendant motioned to the terminal jerking me out of my reverie. I picked up the handset. "Sir?"

"I want you to go straight to the Midtown Museum, report to me as soon as the new Wielder is revealed."

"Yes, Sir."

By the end of the evening the new Wielder had emerged, she was as magnificent as the Witchblade itself. A true warrior spirit. "You won't be disappointed, Sir."

"Watch over her, Ian. The next few hours are important."

I hung up the phone with a sigh, I wanted to see my son. Those three weeks in Japan had been the longest separation we had without any contact. But if I was to reach my ultimate goal, freedom and a normal life for my son, I could not go against orders now. I followed the Wielder to the hospital and then back to her apartment. The Blade was already beginning to alter her perceptions. Dawn touched the horizon, my phone rang. I did not even speak when I flipped it open.

"Inform Mr. Gallo that I am interested in selling the Old Rialto. Then watch over the Wielder until further notice, interact as needed but do not interfere."

I detested Gallo and his scum. There was no honor amongst them, I offered them no mercy upon entering their territory. Gallo's guards were easily breached and taken down. I gave Irons's offer to Gallo and left.

I did as I was told, watching over Detective Sara Pezzini, following her to the folly of the Rialto. I knew she would lose her partner here. Her life would be irrevocably changed, even more so than when she received the Witchblade. This was the first test, in part for both of us. It bothered me that I could not aid her. In the end I showed myself to her, told her to use the Witchblade. When she asked my what the noise of her partners capture was, all I could utter was, "Karma."

Gallo was sure to be furious after the mayhem wrought by the lithe detective who annihilated the best of his men. So I shadowed her at Detective Woo's funeral then made my way to the building across from hers. Intense fury flew through me as I saw the Yazuka with his rifle trained on her. I struck him hard and hung him on an antenna. I watched Sara through the scope, she was stunning even in her grief. I had almost been to late, the knowledge of this tore at me and I took it out on her would be assassin.

I watched her at the gym, work herself into exhaustion. One of Irons's first lectures regarding the Witchblade came back to me. I could hear his voice reciting the story of his failed attempt to wear the Gauntlet. It sounded different than I remembered. It would be much later, after the Wielder ran the gauntlet in her dreams, after she was forced into seeing our mutual pasts that I would realize that Irons was telling the story to my boy, not me. I pulled myself away from her confusion and closed my eyes. Dear God, I had never asked Irons when I would learn to fight. I was ten when he had graced me with that tale, already well into my training as a warrior. It was Alexander he was speaking to.

I rushed back to the modest penthouse we called home. All of his clothes and toys were still there, minus the hat and guns. Fear, failure, and despair overtook me, I lay upon his bed holding his pillow close, wishing it were him. His scent clung to the linens, ivory soap and dirt, little boy smells. Tears streaming down the face buried in the pillow, I soon cried myself to sleep. I did not awaken til my phone rang later that night with a command to come to Vorschlag. By now Sara Pezzini would have discovered the connection to Irons and myself through the information I had sent to her via her new partner. I hung up the phone slowly realizing where I was and what had happened. I could not believe I had fallen asleep, but it had been days since I slept last. I washed my face and took one last look at his room before I wearily trudged to meet Irons.

Not daring to meet his gaze as I entered I immediately assumed parade position at the window. I heard him open his desk drawer, the tap of plastic hitting the wood sent a shiver down my spine. He slid one of Alexander's guns across the desk. Flashes of him lecturing my son went through my mind as I supressed the rage I felt and turned to stand before the man I despised.

"There are no casual connections Nottingham. Sara Pezzini, the Witchblade, myself. Call it what you will, destiny, fate, fortune. Napoleon used to say that fortune is like a woman, she favors the bold."

This was a test, I had to keep my wits about me, anyting he said could be a clue. He would expect a response, "and what would he say of a bold woman?" I kept my gaze fixed upon the swirling patterns of the wood grain, not allowing him the satisfaction of looking at the gun.

He smiled most amused with himself, "I'll ask him sometime, hmm. Do you not find her striking, Nottingham?" He glanced at the gun, trying to get me to take the bait.

I refused, focusing on answering his question, "striking and willful."

"A woman in full bloom of her beauty and power, but there are so many of those. What is it do you think about Sara Pezzini that draws the Witchblade?"

"Her courage, concealed vunerability."

"Perhaps? Now she is more vunerable than ever." He caught my eyes then glanced down, making sure I caught the duality of his words. Alexander was just as vunerable as Sara if not more so. If I take care of her for Irons no harm comes to my son. The words were unspoken but the troth was there. I could not resist, I reached to touch the toy gun on the mahogany desk, then pulled back. I would not give him the pleasure. I returned to the window to stare out into the city, one thought and one thought only repeating in my head, he has my son. He has my son, the monster has my son. I retreated to the window. I had no other option than to play his game. I could feel his smirk turn to a sneer as I looked out over the city. He knew Alexander and the Wielder were the only things that kept me from killing him at that very moment.


I stood before Precinct 11, my memories interspersed with those I could divine of Alexander and Irons's meetings. My little boy wanted so much to be grown up like me.

"The will is the link between the soul and the universe."

"Well spoken, Young Nottingham. Now is the time for you to go abroad to learn your vocation, to explore your special gifts."

Bile rose in my throat and to my mouth as I heard him tell that to my son. Following the Wielder was my only hope of getting him back. I followed her to the seedy nightclub, waiting outside. I could feel the anger and violence emanating from her as she exited the smokey club. "Bloodlust is a powerful thing." I knew this first hand. I snatched her drawn gun from her hand and circled her like a panther. She was a difficult women to intimidate. "The desire for revenge, the desire for control, can you control that desire, or is it better unleased?" These were things I had been asking myself. "Are you having a hard time controlling the Witchblade, Sara? Your little toy doesn't seem to work against me. Is it because you really don't want it to?" Our connection in her dreams seemed to unnerve her I could use that to my advantage. She yanked back the hand I had extended with the butt of her gun.

"What do you want?"

Many things, my son back, Irons dead, freedom..... "We always want what we can not have."

"What is it with you and Irons and all this mysterioso crap?"

Just the implication made me sick. "Don't compare me to Irons," my voice thick with revulsion and threat.
Hearing this Sara sneered, "Get the hell away from me."

"Why do you want to kill Gallo?" I called out as she began to walk away.

"He killed two of my best friends."

I began circling her again following her form with my hand a mere half inch away from her. Again using intimacy to unnerve her, "If you hadn't been so intent on persecuting Mr. Gallo your friend Danny would still be alive. Was it worth it?"

"No, but that doesn't let Gallo off the hook, does it?"

"How do you know this whole thing isn't a trap, a setup?" I had to plant that seed, I would not allow her to go into this thing without her guard up.

"What do you care?"

"I don't really." I did, more than she could possibly know, for reasons she would never believe.

"Why did you set us up at the Rialto? Or is that just coincidences?"

"There are no coincidences." I was beginning to realize this more and more.

"I've got to go."

"To go where?"

"To kill Gallo."

"As you wish." I drew my sword and dropped to one knee honoring her as a warrior, wishing her well on her quest. "But remember, to fully grasp the Witchblade, you must first spill some of your own blood."

"Yeah, whatever, Nottingham." She was truly fed up with me now and turned to walk out of the alley but she turned just before she gets to the street. "Is it a setup?"

"Expect the unexpected. Forewarned, forearmed." I stand not meeting her strident gaze with my eyes.

"I'll get back to you on that one ... Ian."

I had to diffuse the name situation, Irons would not approve of her calling me by my given name. Hoping to piss her off I raised my eyes to meet hers when she would inevitably turn to glare at me. "Had any dreams lately, Sara?" She looked at me with shock and contempt. Luckily her partner chose the moment after to walk up so I could make good my escape into the shadows



Ultimately Sara faced off with Gallo. I followed and as anticipated her blood was spilled, another test fullfilled. She nearly lost control and killed Gallo with the blade, it was what Irons wanted, but I was pleased when she pulled back the sword and arrested him. I paid Mr. Gallo a visit the next evening at his penthouse, he of course was out on bond. It did not take much for me to frighten him, his mind was so weak. I appeared to him in full armor, I deflected light from a lamp to backlight my form giving me an even more eerie appearence. Like a good catholic boy steeped in the lore of Saints and Sinners, Gallo began screaming about an avenging angel and ran to the balcony to escape. I opened the glass door, something he had not expected. His speed propelled him over the railing and he fell to his death. Splattered upon the pavement like a bug on a windshield. Very fitting, I thought.

I checked on Sara, she was at long last sleeping. I reported all of this to Irons. He was disappointed that the new Wielder had not given into bloodlust but he was pleased with my performance. "You may go home for the evening, Ian. Leave your phone on in case I need you."

I wandered the streets, not wanting to return to the penthouse. The emptiness would mock me. My phone rang shrilly. The number was not one of Irons's. "Hello?"

"Daddy!"

"Alexander, how are you?" I wanted to ask where he was but I knew Kenneth would have this call carefully monitered.

"I am fine, I love the Hobbit. I have begun my training. The Master says I am extremely gifted."

The joy and pride was plain in his voice, I would not dispell that. "I am very proud of you. I miss you, my boy."

"I miss you too Daddy. Don't worry, when I read at night, I hear the words in your voice." I heard a voice in the background and Alex answer, "yes, sir."

"You have to go?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Never forget, Alexander, I love you with all my heart."

"I love you too, Daddy. Goodnight."

"Night." The line now dead, I went home, my heart a bit lighter. I went to his room and took a tattered copy of the Velveteen Rabbit from the shelf. I climbed into his bed, opening the book, as I read the text, it was in his voice.

Upon rising the next morning, I decided to pay the Wielder a visit before heading to my duties at Vorschlag. "Looked in the morning paper yet, Sara?"

"What?"

I was still on a high from talking to Alexander so there was a more playful tone to my voice than she was used to. "The morning paper, Sara. Take a look at it."

"Organized crime figure Thomas Gallo committed suicide last night, jumping from the balcony of his heavily guarded apartment after screaming something about an avenging angel. Gallo was out on bail on three pending charges of murder."

"It looks like Tommy Gallo had a crisis of conscience."

"Either that, or he had help." I grinned, I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Perhaps a bit of both," I said slyly.

She walked over to the window peering out. "Hey, Nottingham."

"Hey, Sara." Perhaps she did not think so ill of me after all.

"Had any dreams lately?" She asked pointedly and seductively before hanging up the phone.

I rocked back and forth on my feet, chuckling at her for a minute before making my way to work.

The End