Since the Powers that Be decided not to grace us with one
December 5
What a long strange trip indeed. Truer words have never been spoken....or sung. So much has happened, so much has changed. I will hit the pertinent points in this entry then start my daily or weekly or whatever entries afterwards. The timeliness have been mixed, how I do not even begin to understand, neither does Gabriel or Ian for that matter. Gabriel is alive and well, Irons-free with no side effects from the occupation. Ian and I are forging a friendship, it is a path of patchy slick ice on concrete and plenty of potholes, but we are both trying. He
has moved from the mansion and is renovating a brownstone somewhere near where Gabe's shop is. They have become good friends. He has Gabriel searching far and near for furniture and stuff. It is hilarious to listen to them argue over what he should and should not buy. For two decidedly heterosexual men they bicker like an old married couple.
Ian has changed a lot since Irons death. Ian somehow put a spin on Irons's disappearance and death saying he had a massive stroke, was sent to rehab then died months later. He used the excuse that Irons had a clause drawn up that if anything like this ever happened the news was not to be leaked to the media. Apparently this is a standard multi-billionaire thing so it was believed with very little investigation. He is still moody and black is still the standard but he interacts better with people. Of course he's had a bit of a baptism by fire since he's taken over Vorschlag Industries. He's actually the one that suggested this journal thing, to sort out what has happened. I've been having some trouble keeping my thoughts straight dealing with 2 recent pasts.....dozens of passed pasts and now this new reality.
I'm still partnering with Danny and Jake. Danny and Lee are six months pregnant and blissfully happy, Mikey and Una are thrilled with the idea of a sibling. Jake is still Jake, bouncing through women and life with his annoying yet partially endearing surfer-boy attitude.
Sara grinned as she put the finishing touches on the packages. She picked up the phone as it rang, "Pezzini."
"Anything I need to bring over tonight?" A soft familiar voice asked.
"Not a thing. Gabe's supposed to pick up the food on his way."
"He has not spoken to you?"
"No. Let me guess, he got a better offer?"
"Apparently our witty repartee can not compete with an Hungarian model." Ian tried to sound miffed but the grin was obvious in his voice.
"I think it has more to do with guaranteed sex than our repartee. You think you could swing by Marcello's and grab dinner, I placed the order earlier and it will be ready at six."
"I can and I will see you about six thirty then."
"If you can get away from Marcello."
"I'll just tell him I have a hot date with you and you will be furious with me if I am not there on time.....he has seen your temper in action....he would not dare to lose his favorite patron to a pugilistic fit."
"Very funny....See you Nottingham." She could hear his laughter as she snapped the phone shut. Ian had invited her and Gabriel to Marcello's to celebrate his buying the brownstone and a fellow patron, who happened to be highly inebriated, took a liking to Sara while she was waiting for them to show up. Not wanting to cause a scene at a fancy crowded restaurant, Sara politely fended off his advances. The enamored man was not to be deterred and Sara took decisive action when he put one hand on her ass and the other down her shirt. Ian walked in the door greeted by Marcello, only to witness Sara punching the man in the nose then cuffing him. The drunk was passed out, Marcello was horrified, Sara was embarrassed, Gabriel who arrived right behind Ian was in tears from laughing, and Ian, calm ever composed Ian snapped his fingers sending people scurrying to do his bidding and within moments the entire incident was forgotten by all but who were directly involved.
Sara smiled as she put Gabe's gift in the closet, he may not get his present early since he decided to ditch them. Friday nights with Ian and Gabriel had become a tradition, since that first evening. About a week after the final confrontation with Irons, they decided to meet and sort things out over dinner, by the end of the evening a truce was in effect. Things just fell together after that, occasionally one would have to miss dinner but two of them were always there. She laughed, if Gabe had to miss, he usually cowed out and let Ian break the news. The first time he had canceled on them, she had no idea how she would deal with Ian one on one but after an awkward first few moments they both relaxed. To her surprise she actually enjoyed his company, he had a sly sense of humor which she still marveled at. He told her of his plans to clean up Vorschlag, get rid of Irons's "old guard" and legitimize all of the holdings. She was a little shocked by his fervent desire to make something good out of the business or shut it down. This new Ian impressed her more than she cared to admit to anyone other than herself. A knock at the door shocked her out of her reverie. She glanced at the clock not realizing it had gotten so late.
Opening the door revealed a package laden Ian. "I did not order that much food."
He grinned widely, "I brought some champagne and something for dessert to celebrate." His smile was infectious.
"And what are we celebrating?"
"A coup."
"A coup?"
"Actually, the coup." He began unloading the bags while she set the table. "What did you order for me?"
"So, I am not getting any info, huh?" He gave her a wonderfully innocent look. She rolled her eyes knowing he would tell her eventually. "I got Gabe linguine and clam sauce but wasn't sure what I wanted so I told Marcello to surprise us with anything that didn't contain seafood. That ok with you?"
"Perfect. I wondered why Marcello put our names on the boxes. Since Gabe isn't joining us, I gave his to a homeless man on the way here."
Sara died out laughing, "he is going to be passed."
Ian shrugged as he carried a package over to the fridge. "He'll get over it."
"So, you want salads first or do we do the continental thing?" She asked already knowing his answer.
"I have smelled that food all the way over here, I want it first."
Snickering she handed him the salads and began unloading the next sack. "Oh my." It was full of french bread and various dipping sauces. "Did you order this?"
"No, Gucianni said Marcello fixed us a ‘happy to-go bag', I suppose that is what he meant."
"I love that man."
She opened boxes and began placing Marcello's concoctions on their plates while nimble fingers worked on the champagne cork. Ian stopped for a moment and as soon as she caught the devilish glint in those amaretto colored eyes she pointed a finger at him. "Ian Nottingham, don't you dare."
Knowing his attempt at looking innocent failed miserably, he obediently popped the cork without incident and poured two glasses. He gallantly placed a glass beside her plate, "milady."
"Thank you, kind sir." She watched him as he finally settled down into his seat, it was the first time he had been still since he came through the door.
Ian caught Sara's bemused gaze, "what?"
"You've been trapped in meetings all day haven't you?"
He looked at his plate like a chastised child, "the only time I escaped was when I phoned you. I didn't even get to go for a run at lunch."
"It shows." His usual contained energy was brimming over. This man was like an unbridled colt that had been trapped in a too small stall for far to long. Sara took a bite of her dish, "Ummm,, this is incredible. What is yours?"
"Manicotti stuffed with portabella mushrooms and a ricotta cheese mixture covered with a rich alfredo sauce, here, you have to taste this." He placed a piece on her plate and stole a ravioli from hers.
"So, are you going to tell me why we are celebrating?"
"I got rid of the last of the hold out troublemakers today in a sneaky but entirely legal buy out. It was incredible, Sara, I never thought I could pull this off. Right after I spoke with you, they called to let me know I now had controlling interest in the two companies. I had their CEO's call in and informed them that I knew they were the ones blocking my votes and attempting to undermine my authority, and I fired them. Now, I have complete control over the board of directors and the companies and no longer have to worry about threats to my leadership."
"Congratulations! Ian, I am so proud of you."
Ian blushed, "thank you."
"I didn't know you were having any problems."
"Neither did I until a couple of weeks ago when I overheard some of their less than scrupulous plans. Now all I have to do is find someone I can trust to take over and then no more daily business meetings for me. As much as I enjoyed today, I hate being trapped in that office all day."
"Then I think a toast is in order," Sara said holding up her glass. "To you and the business savvy you didn't think you had. I knew if you put your heart and considerable energy into it, you can do whatever you put your mind to." They clinked glasses. "Now, before I eat anymore of this, what did you get for dessert?"
"Something we couldn't have if Gabe was here."
"You didn't?"
"Oh, but I did."
"The raspberry dark chocolate swirl cheesecake?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Sara pushed her plate away, "forget the salad. I want some of that. Too bad Gabe is allergic to raspberry's."
Ian got up and took the cake from the fridge. "Do you have a lighter or some matches?"
"Oooo, we get to set it on fire?"
"The raspberry's are soaked in brandy."
"Here you go," Sara tossed him the long lighter she used for candles.
He tested the lighter once and with eyes shining looked at Sara, "ready." She nodded and he lit the decadent dessert. Poof, it burned blue for a moment then went out. "Cool." Sara laughed and went to sit on the couch at his insistence. He spied the present as he handed her the plate and sat on the opposite end of the couch. "Does that have my name on it?"
"It does." She took a bite of cake, "this is the best thing I have ever tasted." Ian nodded in agreement but kept a curious eye on the package. "That was going to be an early Christmas present for you but no it's a congratulations on your coup present."
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know but I wanted to and when you open it you'll see why I had to give it to you early."
"May I please open it now?"
"Sure, go ahead." She couldn't help but laugh, he was practically bouncing in place.
He took the present reverently after putting his plate down. He fingered the bow briefly before ripping the paper. He gasped when he saw what it was, the Platinum Extended DVD of Fellowship of the Rings. "Sara, you shouldn't have."
"Look on the bottom of the box, there's more."
He flipped the box over and looked at her curiously. "Movie passes?"
"The Two Towers opens in a couple of weeks and I thought you would want to see the first one before we go."
Sara was taken aback when he grabbed her and hugged her tightly. "Thank you so much, Sara."
She patted his back as she returned the hug, "you are welcome."
"Can we watch it now? Please?" The thirty year old man was suddenly transformed into a five year old begging to stay up an hour later.
"I don't have a DVD player."
"Well, why don't we pack up the food and go over to my place. You haven't seen it since the upstairs has been finished."
"Isn't the movie close to 4 hours? Its 9:00 already and it may snow around midnight..."
"You could pack a bag and stay the night, the guest room is ready and you have the weekend off don't you?"
He was just going to be crushed if she didn't say yes and it took so little to make him happy. "Ok, you pack up the food and I'll grab some clothes and stuff."
"Great!" He bounded off the couch and busied himself in the kitchen.
Sara threw some clothes and a few toiletries in her duffel bag. Still highly amused by Ian's childlike response. Most people grew up during and after a crisis, Ian was now free to be the child he never could and she was just glad to be there for the metamorphosis. When she emerged from her bathroom he was washing the dishes, "I'll do those tomorrow."
"I'm almost finished, there weren't very many. You ready?"
"Mmmhmmm. You know I should have gotten you an apron. You are very domestic and neat."
"Military, if things aren't in their place, you do push-ups."
"Ahhh, forced domesticity."
"Ma'am, yes ma'am," he gave her a jaunty salute.
Sara just rolled her eyes, "ok, lets go."
Sara gaped at the change that had taken place inside the brownstone. "I can not believe this place. It was dirty and full of crates and junk the last time I saw it. Look at this floor."
"When they pulled up that nasty carpet, they found some equally vulgar linoleum below that, was this fabulous hardwood floor."
"These inlays are gorgeous." Sara knelt down to touch the delicate Celtic knot inlays that ran around the room. "You did good, Ian." Stylish and elegant without being pretentious, it was very habitable.
"Thank you, I hoped you'd like it. Let's go watch this."
"Ok, ok. Geez you are worse than a kid."
Ian led her down the hall to a spacious room full of electronics. A large screen flat tv adorned one wall opposite it was a huge black leather couch. Sara tossed her bag in the corner and flopped down on the couch. "Oh, man, I call the couch!"
Ian laughed, "I'm going to go put the food away. Would you like anything?"
"Just a blanket, please." She was rewarded with a fleece blanket thrown over her head and his light chuckle as he exited the room.
He had changed into loose cotton workout pants and a sweater, he set the DVD and turned towards her. "May I share the couch with you, Milady?"
"Only if you're good."
"Oh, I'll be very good, you have my solemn vow."
Her stomach flip flopped at that statement. Even though his innocent look belied the sexy tone of his voice, at times Sara could swear the man knew just what he was doing. She patted the buttery leather cushion next to her. "Start the movie, smartass."
"I loved these books as a kid. I hope the movie lives up to the version I have in my head."
"Yeah, its been years since I read them, but I was completely enchanted."
"One of my tutors, I don't remember which one said that Tolkien's works were meant to be seen and not read."
The credits began rolling and she tucked the blanket in around her. "Are you cold? I could be convinced to share this blanket."
"No, I'm fine." Ian glanced at her wrapped in the blanket, "I can turn up the heat if you like."
"I like to snuggle under blankets while I watch movies."
"I'll have to keep that in mind for I hope we repeat this activity many times."
The ring brought Gollum unnatural long life...for 500 years it poisoned his mind. It abandoned Gollum.
Ian tilted his head and leaned towards her, "hmmmm, that has a familiar ring to it."
There was that sly sense of humor she was coming to expect, "very funny, Nottingham."
"Look at the shire, Sara, its exactly as I imagined. The rolling lush green fields, the flowers and crops, the hobbit holes."
"If your referring to the incident with the dragon."
"Smaug." They both said at the same time. "He was my favorite part of The Hobbit."
Sara rolled her eyes, "why doesn't that surprise me. Although I thought Smaug was the bad guy."
"Sara, you should know by now dragons are a misunderstood lot. It was within his nature to horde his treasures and seek solitude. You cannot expect a creature with that personality to follow the rules of others. He was the last of his kind and hunted to extinction, which of course was one of Tolkien's many morals."
Sara just grinned at him and shifted so that her back was against the arm of the couch so she could watch him as well as the movie. As remarkable as the movie was, it could not compare to the play of emotions that ran across her companions face. Ian hooked an arm under her calves and laid her legs across his lap. She was surprised and pleased, she had gotten a hug earlier and now this. As far as Ian had come, a lifetime of Irons's cruel lessons were difficult for him to overcome. Physical contact had not been allowed unless pain was involved. In the beginning of their friendship a simple bump on the arm or pat on the back would very nearly send Ian through the roof. She was drawn out of her thoughts and back to the movie when he grabbed one of her knee's gently.
"The black lands of Mordor. Unbelievable, it looks so real." His grip grew stronger when black riders emerged from the tall forbidding gates. "The Ring Wraiths, look, Sara, look."
She held back her a chuckle, "I see them." Part of her wished Gabriel were here to see him like this but a more selfish aspect was pleased that she was the only one allowed to see this side of Ian. Irons had trapped the child but not broken his spirit, or stolen his sense of wonderment. Seeing things through Ian's eyes for the first time was an adventure and a treasure she would cherish for the remainder of her life. Every gasp, each laugh, each time he grasped her knee during a tense moment or shook her leg in excitement was not only a gift to her but a return to innocence for him.
"Hey, Strider is the king isn't he?"
"He is Aragorn, yes. He carries the honor and obligation of his people like a badge and a burden. Aragorn is the epitome of everything I have ever strived to be, the greatest of knights, the most honest of men, and the wisest of kings. He was my hero growing up."
"Sounds like he still is."
Ian gave her a small shy smile, "he is one of them."
The remainder of the movie was spent mostly in silence, both viewers were sucked into the story line. When the movie ended Ian's comment was, "wow."
"So, it stunned you out of your usual eloquence, huh?"
"So, it would seem. Sara, thank you again. This is the best gift that anyone has ever given me, it means a great deal to me."
She pulled her legs out of his lap and leaned over and quickly embraced him, "you're welcome. And in all honesty I have to thank you as well." She smiled at his puzzled look, "I get to see a new side of you each time we get together, and as much as I love Gabriel, I am glad it was just us tonight."
"I as well." Ian tentatively reached up and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek.
Sara smiled a the first gentle touch and leaned into the light caress. He answered her smile with a brief one of his own. What shook Sara to her core was the tenderness and sheer wonderment that shone in those fascinating ever changing hazel eyes. It was no small wonder that he rarely met anyones gaze with his own. If most peoples eyes were the mirrors to their souls, Ian Nottingham's were a hall that led straight to his heart. When she made no move to pull away he lightly ran his thumb across her parted lips. He gasped when she moved her lips on the rough pad of his thumb. Tactile sensations were still new to Ian and this physical awareness combined with a newfound intimacy was very nearly overwhelming. Each movement he made was achingly slow for Sara, had it been any man other than Ian she would have called him a tease. But she knew Ian was giving her plenty of time to pull away or rebuke him. He cupped her cheek in his palm and hesitantly lowered his lips to hers. He was a hairsbreadth from that first gentle kiss when a mournful howl broke the tender moment. Although both people that occupied the couch were horribly disappointed at the timing, they had to laugh at the pathetic pitch issued forth from the kitchen.
"Tarasque, that is enough." The warbling howl turned into a keening cry.
"What set him off?" Sara asked chuckling at the mortified look on Ian's face, "And how does a big tough badass rottie end up making a noise like that?"
"He probably hears a siren in the distance, he hates them. As for his hideous voice, I think he was debarked by his former owner."
"Poor guy, why don't you let him in here."
"Are you sure? I'll warn you he will go nuts for a little while, I haven't had much time to spend with him lately and his manners have suffered."
Sara knew how much that dog meant to him and that it had been his constant companion since he began his journey into becoming his own person. She was a little unsure of the dog because he had been starved and abused before Ian got him and in the beginning even Ian had his doubts as to his ability to be rehabilitated but if Ian trusted him, so would she. She wasn't however, prepared for the black and mahogany furry missile that barreled down the hall and launch itself into her lap and lick her across the face.
"Tarasque! What did I just tell you? Get off her. Sara, I'm sorry, I'll go put him up."
"If that was a greeting he can stay, but if he was tasting me to see if I was dog food, we'll have to rethink this."
Ian sat down beside her and glared at Tarasque who sat prettily in front of his beloved master perfectly still except for his perpetually wiggling behind. Tarasque stayed as still as long as he could stand it then he suddenly slurped Ian from chin to forehead. Sara burst out laughing at Ian's disgusted expression. Tarasque, having accomplished what he wanted, curled up in the flickering glow of the television. Ian shook his head, "I'm going to wash my face, care to join me?"
"That depends, are you going to use a rag or just call the behemoth back over here?"
"I'm going for the rag, you are welcome to the behemoth if you wish."
With freshly scrubbed faces and Sara changed into a pair of grey flannel pj's, Ian and Sara settled back on the couch. Tarasque waggled his way to them once they were comfortable. "No more licking!" Ian was answered by a whine then a hoarse bark. "Do you have to go outside?" Woof. "Ok, come on, lets go."
Sara was snuggled comfortably under the fleece throw when Ian and a greatly relieved rottie returned. "You look a bit chilly."
"I am, the temperature has dropped drastically."
"It's really warm over here and if you promise to tell me the story behind the behemoth's name I might just let you share this snuggly blanket. Somehow I doubt the people that had him chained up gave him such an elegant name."
"No, I think his name was Rock, at least that is what the tag said on the collar that had grown into his neck. He had even more extensive injuries than I thought, once the vet x-rayed him she found a 9mm slug in his skull, seems only his hard head saved him. That's why he snores so loud and tends to snot a lot. He also has a fine peppering of buckshot along his back and his hips as well as healing bite wounds. It amazed them that he had survived such abuse, when the vet was going over all his problems and past wounds I was reminded of the legend of the dragon Tarasque. He was a French dragon who reportedly could not be destroyed by mere human strength or weapons, with all he had gone through I thought it a fitting name."
"Ok, that tale deserves some time under the blanket." She grinned as she held up the edge of the blanket. "You know you did a good thing rescuing him, even though it probably wasn't entirely legal."
He sat down and pulled the blanket over him. "I couldn't stand to see him like that. He always seemed so intelligent, not like a chained abused animal at all, he never had that blank stare that most of them have. Poor guy was so stressed and sick at the vets, they had to sedated him before they could examine him. They all are amazed at his progress, when he went back a couple of weeks ago for his booster shots they hardly believed it was the same dog. They all got big sloppy kisses when he saw them. I think they got attached since he had to stay with them so long."
"So, he's pretty free with those kisses and here I thought I was special."
"If he likes you, you have slurping privileges and he pretty much likes everyone."
Sara stifled a yawn, "what cd is that you're playing?"
"It's one of those music channels, Soundscapes, I think. I like having background noise so I usually have it on when I'm not watching tv."
"Its very relaxing." She curled around and laid her head on his arm.
Ian smiled and ran his free hand through her chestnut hair, "you're getting to be a sleepy girl."
She was but she was also happy right where she was, "a little, but I'm comfortable and warm."
"Here, is this better?" Ian slipped his arm around her letting her head rest on his chest.
"Much better." Sara took a deep breath breathing in the heady mixture of sandlewood and oriental spices. It didn't take long for the steady strong beat of his heart and the comfort of his embrace to lull her to sleep.