by Kameka
Fandom: Witchblade
Pairing: Sara/Gabriel
Summary: It's Gabriel's birthday....will he get what he wants
Ratings: G
Disclaimer: Not mine, please don't sue me!
Feedback would be great! leellette@aol.com
Note: I blame both my muse and Kattie. I was bored, Kattie told me to write. This is what my muse came up with.
NOTE 2: Well, today, August 29th is John Hensley's birthday. He was born in 1977, which makes him 25. I decided that I'd write a Gabriel birthday story on the same day. Which will be his birthday till they give us one for the character.. For me, at least LOL As you can no doubt tell, my muses are still on their Gabriel kick/obsession.
Essential
By Kameka
Gabriel Bowman sat with unseeing eyes as he sat at his computer and surfed the internet. Usually his inquisitive mind was busy wrapping itself with new knowledge taken from the plethora of information available while he not only researched items he already had or wished to have for his internet business, but also looked for items he thought he could sell to his rather unusual client base. Today his mind wasn't on the business he had created when he was still a teenager; it was lost in a dense fog where the past slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, the present stretched forward endlessly and the future seemed like nothing more than an unattainable dream.
Twenty-five years ago today, Gabriel Lucas Bowman had been born. The momentous occasion had been celebrated by his family. He was his father's eldest son, his parents' first child whose eventual children would carry the Bowman name into to the future, another tangible dream come true that they could place their hopes on. A child they could raise to be a young man they were proud of, who was loyal to his family and those he loved, who protected when he could, who would pass the honor and genetics of the Bowman family to the next generation.
Fine hopes and dreams. He knew that his parents were proud of his business even if they didn't understand it. He was doing something he loved, making a difference, and making enough to support himself. They wanted nothing more than that for any of their children. Except for them to be happily married with children of their own.
It was something that Gabriel knew he wanted as well; his business was growing as more people turned to the unusual for hobbies and decorations, as more grew curious and thought outside the boundaries in which they had been confined. But he hungered for something more, someone to hold him and be held in the dark nights, someone to share his dreams and fears with in the dark nights. Someone to love him as much as he knew he could love. A connection.
With a flick of his wrist he book-marked the site he had been staring at and closed it down. After checking his email to see if their had been any inquiries in the past thirty minutes, he pulled up one of his screen savers, an undulating mass of colors and shapes that blended into each other.
It wasn't that he'd been ignored today. That wasn't the reason for his restlessness. Family members had called to wish him happy birthday. Some had even stopped by for a few minutes of talking and a quick hug, never staying too long to be a nuisance during working hours, but long enough to let him know he was being thought of. In about an hour, he had to be leaving to have a birthday dinner, one of the many Bowman family traditions that let the large family scattered all over New York and New Jersey continue to be close-knit.
But few of his chosen family, his friends, had mentioned anything. Not even Sly, who he'd known since the third grade. Not that Sly normally remembered; it was a 50% chance at best. His best friend's head was often in the clouds, filled with ideas and pictures for the comic he created. One of the drawbacks to a creative personality, Gabriel had decided. Not that he was much better with his books, he thought as he glanced ruefully and the cluttered desk he used.
Marking the pages with paper bookmarks and stacking the books on one of his extra office chairs, he attempted to give some order to the reign of chaos he perpetually lived in. The attempt was half-hearted at best as he had never minded the clutter, but one never knew when he'd need the extra room and it was better to get it cleaned up now, before it had taken on a life of it's own.
Finishing his self-imposed chore, he stretched and made his way to the back room of the apartment he lived in to where he did the rest of his living. He had been lucky to find an apartment this large for the small amount of cost. He supposed he should start looking for something bigger; his shelves were getting crowded and he felt the need to spread out, but it was a move he didn't feel like he was ready to make. Financially it would be no problem, but de didn't have everything in order yet.
Stepping into the shower, he turned the water on until it was almost scalding, hoping that the heat would clear some of the fog from his mind. Luxuriating in the streams that made their way down his body, he gave himself a quick scrub down with the unscented soap he preferred and shampooed his hair. Gradually turning the knob, he added more cold water to the stream from the faucet, the shift in temperature giving him the invigoration he needed.
Towel drying his hair, he let the cooled air of the apartment begin to dry his body. When his hair was still damp, he finished the job of drying his skin before climbing into a pair of boxers. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he fingered the picture frame that was on the table he used for a nightstand. His family's last get together. It always made him smile to think about those times they would get together and strengthen family bonds as worries of the present slipped away. His main annoyance was that, those days when he was with his family, he'd no longer be Gabriel Bowman, capable young business owner. No, he'd become Gabriel, son of Annabel and Michael Bowman and brother to the rest of the Bowman brood. No one but his brothers and sisters could make him cringe as they brought up story after story of the past, old arguments that were never solved. It was nothing done to hurt, just to remind everyone that they weren't perfect in a way that only family could do.
Shaking his head, he finished getting dressed in one of his favorite pairs of jeans and a T-shirt. What would be the first anecdote that knocked him back to childhood skirmishes? The time he had broken his arm falling out of the tree he had been using as his base of spy operations? Or his first birthday, when he had been loving in the ability to walk and run and streaked the people his parents had invited? An incident that had been embarrassingly caught with pictures his mother loved to hold over his head. That would be it, he knew. Everything else paled until he had someone special to bring to these celebrations. Not that they would leave that memory alone when that time came.
The buzzer on his door sounded, causing him to look at the clock. Time flew by fast when you were lost in memories. Hoping that it was someone who wouldn't mind being hurried since he didn't want to be late, he opened the door only to blink in shock as he saw his visitor was Sara Pezzini. His main link to the police department, the female homicide detective was dressed as casually as she always was, formfitting jeans and comfortable T- shirt with her ever present leather jacket over her thin body. Hiding the gun she wore to do her job. Again he was struck with the sense of incongruity he often felt when in the presence of the detective. It wasn't just that she wielded an ancient sentient weapon named the Witchblade, but her chosen career often seemed fittingly odd to him. When someone said 'Homicide detective,' gruff men with beard-roughened chins and voices raspy from cigarette smoke came to mind. Not a beautiful woman who regularly surrounded herself with death, violence, and danger.
"Am I interrupting something?" asked Sara, her voice a bit hesitant since he hadn't given her his usual greeting.
"No, not really. I'm just getting ready to go out; birthday dinner." He flushed and mentally kicked himself. He didn't mean to just blurt it out like that; the last thing he wanted to do was add more guilt to the load she normally carried around. To his surprise, she merely nodded.
"I know. I meant to stop by on my lunch hour but I ended up in a meeting instead." She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small gaily wrapped package and offered it to him. "Happy birthday."
He reached out slowly at took it from her, swallowing the unexpected lump in his throat.
"It's not much," she smiled apologetically. "I saw it a while ago and thought of you."
"No, it's. It's great." He smiled at her and realized they were still standing in the doorway. "Come on in." He left the door and started walking backwards towards the desk he had cleared earlier.
"You're on your way out; I just wanted to drop that off."
He shrugged one shoulder in a casual gesture. "They won't mind if I'm a few minutes late. Grab a seat."
She did, sitting in the chair he had come to think of as hers. He sank down next to her and fingered the silver and gold paper.
"Aren't you going to open it?"
He glanced up at her, a guiltily excited look on his face, before tearing into the paper with all the glee of a little boy. The now shredded paper fell to the floor as he looked at the small black box emblazoned with silver stars that he held. Opening it carefully, he placed the lid on his desk and gently moved the top layer of batting away. He revealed a necklace, an intricate Celtic knot done in sterling silver that was on a piece of leather. He fingered it gently, the works-man ship was incredible. The knot wasn't too heavy and there was a delicacy to the twisted silver that made him know it was a work of art made by someone who cared instead of part of a mass produced trend.
His silence continued until Sara once more broke it. "If you don't like it, I can take it back," she told him nervously.
"Don't you dare." He put the open box next to the lid and reached out to enfold her in a hug. "Thank you."
She nodded against him, a movement he felt instead of saw. "You're welcome," she whispered to him.
He drew back and smiled at her, keeping her slim body close to him in a gentle hold. To his surprise, she moved forward, her lips hesitantly moving over his in with the lightest of touches. "Happy Birthday, Gabriel."
He blinked. "What was that?"
"A birthday kiss?" she answered, making the statement more of a question. "It's tradition."
"That wasn't a birthday kiss," he told her. "This is." He closed the distance this time, their lips once again meeting, his tongue gently tracing her lips, teasingly probing until her mouth opened under his and he could taste her as he'd wanted to for months.
It ended as gently as it began and Sara pulled back from his embrace. "I better go; we don't want you running late to your own party, do we?" She was already striding towards the door when he called her name, causing her to stop her forward motion but not turn. "Yeah?"
"Aren't I supposed to get 25 kisses and one to grow on?"
She turned then, one brow arching in her trademark way. "I think that's spanks, not kisses."
He shrugged. "I'm easy."
She coughed back a laugh and shook her head. "I'm sure you have lots of other people willing to give you either, Gabriel. Have a nice night." Before he could reply, she disappeared, the door closing behind her.
Sitting at his desk, he reached out for the box he had placed there and lifted the necklace out by the leather. Putting it on without looking, he folded his hand over where it lay, feeling the metal heat in his hand. Sara's visit had definitely been unexpected; he didn't remember even mentioning when his birthday was in passing, let alone expecting a gift from her. A grin broke out over his features as he heard his mother tell him to make a wish before blowing out the candles on the cake. She had told him as long as he could remember and would again tonight.
Maybe his birthday wish would come true after all, he thought as he held the lover's knot at his throat.
END
Well? Like it? Should I continue or leave it here and let others write as a "community project/round robin type story? For once my muses are giving me a choice!