Title: A bad day gets worse
Author: MidKnight
Email: MidKnightslair@juno.com
A Bad day gets worse….
Or better, depending on how you think of it…
Sara fell into her bed sighing in pain as one of her bruised ribs twinged. She hadn’t bothered to tell Jake about the wounds she’d suffered during the fight he’d missed. The Witchblade burned on her wrist, heat traveling through her, mending her.
In minuets Sara was asleep.
****************************
“You shure that’sss her window?” One man asked, his blonde hair waving drunkenly in the night. The brunette beside him nodded and wavered on his feet, stumbling. He lifted a bottle to his lips and guzzled.
“’Course it is, wha’ the ‘ell you think I do when you or’re me to get out ‘ere on my ass an’ watch ‘er?!” came the indignant reply.
“You gotta tell me abou’ tha’ time when ya made ‘er phone ring when she wa’ in the shower…” He grabbed the bottle from the dark haired man beside him, and fell back against the wall.
They both laughed lecherously.
“I took ma’ cell phone out an’ called her. You shoulda seen it! I had this scope from, ah, gun I think, an’ she comes a running outa da shower drippin’ everywhere!” His dark eyebrows went up as he laughed. “What was it we came here to do? I forgot.” He laughed again.
“We gotta sing.” The blonde retorted. “Like in tha’ Tommy Cruise flick. See if we can shag her like in tha’ movie. Carnal Knowledge an’ all that…”
“Oh…yeah, I forgot…”
They both looked up to the dark window and began singing.
***************************
Sara’s peaceful sleep was ruined when she heard the cats mating outside. Damn animals. Waking more clearly she recognized it not as mating cats but as some guys singing.
“You've lossss tha’ lovin' feeling,
Whoa, whoa, whoa tha’ lovin' feeeeeeeeling,
You've lossssssss tha’ lovin' feeeeeeeeeeeling, Now it's gone...gone...gone...wooooooh….lovin’!!!!”
“That part of the song dosen’t go there! You screwed it up!”
“Well, les start over again, then…Gimmie the bottle!!!”
The song degenerated into a fight over who got the bottle next and she heard her neighbors open windows and yell at the men to shut up. At least they weren’t singing to her, she thought pulling the pillow over her head.
“You ne’er close your eyesssssssssss anymore when I kissssss your lipssss…” one voice sang.
“An’ ther’ssssss no tendernesssss ‘ike before in your fingersssstipssss…” another continued.
Sara grinned, despite herself. Obviously the men were drunk and serenading someone.
“’ey, Sara, come outside an’ have sex with us!!!!” one suddenly yelled, deciding not to sing anymore.
“You moron, like she’ll come ou’ side now!” the other said yelling at the first.
Sara sat up in bed, blushing. They were singing to her. Oh gods, she suddenly had a very bad feeling about the men who were.
“Sara! I wantchore body!” the one who’d made the sex quote yelled. “”Ow! Ow! Stop hitting me!!!! Stop it!!! AHHHHHH!!! Wha’ the ‘ell you hittin’ me for, you wan’ ‘er body too??!!”
“Sara, shut your boyfriends up!!!” A neighbor yelled through the ceiling at her. Someone banged on the wall next to her.
Sighing, Sara got out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants over her tank top. Moving to the fire escape she looked down and saw what she’d been afraid of.
Ian Nottingham and Kenneth Irons stood in the alley below, stumbling on their feet and having a fight.
“HEY! You two, stop it!” she yelled at them. They looked up to her, waving.
“Hey, Sara!” Ian turned to Irons. “See, I told you she’d come if I asked her to have sex with us out here.” Several of her neighbors laughed.
“I can almost see up her shirt!” Irons said, a little too loudly. Ian offered him a high five and they laughed. Sara pulled a plant off the fire escape and hurled it down at them.
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!” Irons screamed, looking straight up at the falling pottery and flora. Ian gave him a slight push and Kenneth fell to safety, the pottery colliding harmlessly with the ground.
Kenneth, unfortunately, did not get up off the ground, where he’d fallen. Ian squatted beside him and rolled him onto his back.
“’Ey, Sara, he hit ‘is head. I think he passed out cause of the liquor.” Ian called up.
“Aw, shit.” Sara said, sarcastically. Like she was going to go down and doctor him after their little scene.
Two minuets later Sara had guilt-tripped herself into a ride down the elevator to see how badly Irons was injured. Exiting onto the street she found Ian sitting on the curb looking at the sprawled Irons while drinking from a flask.
“It looks like tha’ scene from tha Godfather, don’ it?” Ian asked. “Maybe I should start crying for Don Corleone.”
Sara walked right up to the assassin and yanked the flask from his loose grip. Then she turned back to Irons and checked his pulse. He was still alive.
“Help me get him inside.” Sara ordered and Ian staggered to his feet to help her. They both loped arms around him and dragged him to his feet. Somehow, through both Ian’s and Kenneth’s staggering, they got to the elevator.
“Did I pass out?” Irons asked suddenly.
“Yeah. Fell right over, when I pushed you.” Ian told him.
“Where are we?” Ian shot him a lecherous grin.
“We’re going up to Sara’s apartment.” They high fived again and began to whisper conspiratorially. The words ‘ravish’ and ‘Sara’ came up in the same sentence.
“There isn’t going to be any ravishing.” Sara snapped, the Witchblade suddenly in full gauntlet. They eyed the blade warily. Ian conceded immediately, but Irons tried to plead his case.
“Aw, come on Sara…Me, you, and Ian? We could make you a sandwich?” he smiled, drunkenly, leaving no doubt in mind the ‘sandwich’ would not be the food type. The smile died when he found the blade part of the Witchblade between his thighs, threatening his manhood. “I’ll behave.” He said quickly.
They trudged down the hall to Sara’s apartment and she made Irons sit on the kitchen counter so she could mend his wounds. Where he’d fallen over his forehead had split open and she quickly covered it in gauze and antiseptic.
Ian walked across her living room, studying her nick-knacks and collided with a table. The assassin fell over his feet and decided to stay where he was. Moving from one disaster to another, Sara went to Ian and knelt beside him.
“Are you ok?” she asked.
“Just pissing drunk. I think I’ll stay here for now, Sara.” He smiled up at her, child-like. “I can see all the way up your shirt from here.” His eyes suddenly went wide and he clapped both his hands over his mouth. “IsaidThatOutloudDidn’tI?” came out very quickly.
Blushing furiously Sara tucked her shirt into her waistband and slapped him. As she stood and turned back to the injured Irons she caught him shooting Ian a thumbs up sign. Moving back to him she slapped him too. Then she went to the coffee machine and made coffee for them to drink so they’d sober up and go home.
“That ain’t gonna work.” Came Ian’s sultry voice from behind her. She glanced over to see him leaning on the counter, next to Irons. “Before that flask of Bourbon, Kenneth and I polished off a bottle of Jack a piece on the way over here. Before that he,” pointing to Irons. “Was at a party drinking martinis. And while he was at the party I was playing quarters outback. And I can’t bounce quarters.”
“Maybe we can-“
“Shut up, Irons.” Sara said. “I’m not going to help you burn the alcohol through exertion.”
“We could-“
“No.”
“Ian and I could-“
“Who says I wanna do anything in your presence?!” Came Ian’s slurred retort. Irons gave him a sly look.
“You’ve done it before.”
“Oh. Oh yeah.” A sappy grin filled the brunettes face. “Hey, that was good when you did that thing with your-“
“WOULD YOU BOTH JUST SHUT UP?!” Sara yelled, red-faced. “Not another word, either of you, on the subject of sex.” She put her face in her hands to think. Obviously they were too drunk to go home alone, and Sara was not going to put herself in a small vehicle with two drunk, horny, (sort of) enemies. Right now they couldn’t really count as enemies due to their inebriation. The only option was to let them stay over and sleep it off. “You guys want to bunk on the sofa and floor?” Both gave her dismayed looks.
“Can’t we all sleep in the bed?” Irons asked. Ian elbowed him and shot Sara a blinding grin.
“Ian, you can have the sofa.” Sara told him, returning his smile. She went and raided the linen closet for sheets and a comforter. Another blanket came off the couch’s arm, and she took one of the couch pillows for Irons to sleep on. “You guys split the stuff.”
Sara left the men in the living room and went to turn on the bathroom light for the guys, should they choose to be sick at some point. She also told them where it was.
Then she went to bed.
“How come I have to sleep on the floor?” came an indignant whisper.
“’Cause the Witchblade said so.” Ian replied.
“I can order you to give up the sofa.”
“Try it and I’ll come over and hurt you.” Sara said threateningly from across the open apartment. “Not another sound. Not a peep. I have to get some sleep.”
“Peep.” Came Ian’s retort a minuet later. Both he and Irons burst into laughter.
“GGGGGGRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!” Sara screamed, getting out of bed. “Both of you, bathroom, NOW!” Both men struggled to their feet carrying assorted blankets and pillows with them. Sara rummaged in a drawer and pulled out a set of manacles. Their eyes opened very wide.
“Woah.” Irons said.
“Did…Did you know she was into bondage?” Ian asked.
“D-damn.” Kenneth muttered, not really able to think of anything coherent or having to do with Ian’s question. His mind had transferred from logical thinking to Sara-and-bondage-images. She herded both men into the bathroom and attached the manacles to a pipe.
Kenneth shot Ian a dopey grin as he was cuffed to the pipe.
“You realize that since we all have bare feet this counts as an orgy? And we’re being chained up by Sara Pezzini?” Irons said, earning himself a smack on the head.
“Weird. I’m in an orgy with the Witchblade and my boss.” Ian wore a who-would-have-thought-it look. He was chained up and Sara went back to bed.
Half an hour passed.
“Say, Ian, you still got that lock picking set?”
*******************
Who ever it was had nice strong hands; one was massaging her lower back right now, through her tank top. Nuzzling into his warm chest through his undershirt, which was black, now that she thought of it. Still too asleep to make any rational thought come to mind she let her hands wander up his strong, muscled back to the long hair curled there. Pulling his head down to hers Sara met his lips in a passionate kiss.
“IAN, I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T UNLOCK ME TOO, I’LL FIRE YOU!!!!!!”
The scream was definitely what ruined the kiss. It was probably one of the world’s greatest. Definitely way up there in the category of great ways to wake up, most certainly in the top two for most passionate. Probably in the ranking for soul shattering true love type kiss, too.
Sara pulled back from Ian’s chocolaty gaze, and his sweet smile, and out of his warm and tender embrace.
She slapped him.
