Title - A Little Singing Never Hurt…
Author - MidKnight2501
E-Mail address - MidKnightslair@juno.com
Rating - PG Just think of the lyrics people.
Category - Humor. Romance.
Pairing (if needed) - Ian and Sara
Warnings - Ian singing…
Spoilers - None, AU
Summary - Sara catches someone Karokeeing. But who is it?
Sara stood in the line to enter the bar. The Witchblade was itching at her mind to activate it and cut through the crowd, literally. Peering in the door of the bar she caught side of a stage and several women crawling around the man on it. He was singing, she realized; karaoke night.
Even now a few lines reached her.
“-so put your hands down my pants and I’ll bet you feel nuts! Yes I’m Siskle, yes I’m Ebert, and you’re getting two thumbs up!”
Laughing out loud and straining her eyes she tried to see past the doorman. Between the women, who were all but humping him and illustrating his words, all Sara could see was his broad back covered in black and the curl of dark hair around his shoulders.
“You’ve had enough of two hand touch, you want it rough, you’re out of bounds, I want you smothered, I want you covered like my waffle house hash browns!”
Sara wanted to get in there and see the man who was singing; he was all but screaming sex. She licked her lips, watching the man gyrate with the barely clad women. She wanted to be up there, the center of attention. Perhaps drag him off to some alley nearby and prove his lyrics right. She deserved a one-night stand.
“Love…The kind you clean up with a mop and bucket, like the lost catacombs of Egypt only god knows where we’ve stuck it…Let me be Pacific, I want to be down in your south seas, but I got this notion that the motion of your ocean means small craft advisory, so if I capsize, advise high tide, you sunk my battle ship, please turn me on, I’m Mr. Coffee with an automatic drip!”
The man turned partway from the microphone to give a girl a hicky as the guitar played sensuious licks of music. Grinning at his conquest he slid a hand up the back of her shirt, holding her to him. Sara was about to set the Witchblade free to get through the bouncer blocking her way. She so desperately wanted to be up there, under his hands…
The man abruptly turned in her direction, fixing Sara with a piercing stare. He grinned and blew her a kiss, before turning away.
Sara’s desire froze as she identified him. Ian Nottingham. She lusted for Kenneth’s minion. Strange…
Wait, back that up a second, Sara thought, what the hell was the self-controlled, submissive, quiet assassin doing in a bar, humping girls and singing provocative songs? Looking to the stage she found it empty, and Ian gone from the bar.
