FIRST STEPS
By Kayryn
Disclaimer: JJ's. Not mine. Never was, never will be.
POV: Irina's.
RATED: G
Summary: Timeframe is ADT, the plane. The rest. read. Too short for a real
summary.
I thanked him for raising Sydney. He told me to get rest, and moved away. I laugh, but it's not a happy sound. I guess I can't expect any more than I've gotten. Hell, I never even really expected what he's given me so far.
I can still hear the sound of his gun shooting. I remember taking a quick intake of breath, and for a fraction of a second I expected it to be my last. But as I turned, I saw one of Stuka's men falling down and Jack standing behind him, with his gun raised. He'd saved my life, but we needed to flee the club and I knew I'd have to thank him later.
And I still haven't. I intended to. I really did. But when I started to speak, I noticed my eyes were welling up, and in an effort to gain control over my raging emotions, I never finished my sentence, just diverted the conversation to the first thing that came to my mind. Arvin. Could've done better with that, 'Rina.
But I was overwhelmed with the whole notion of Jack saving my life. After all, it was only a few months ago that he had planned to have me executed. And now. I felt so much gratitude, I had to thank him. I knew I owed it to him and more. So I thanked him for raising Sydney.
And when I did? "Get some rest."
At times I wonder what it is about this man I love so much.
I stare at my hands. They still tingle from his touch. My eyes tear up again as a thought crosses my mind. He clasped my hand. He held to it instead of struggling free.
I know I'm probably reading too much into the simple gesture, but for the moment, I allow myself the small fantasy.
I'm brought back from my thoughts by a hand resting on my shoulder. I twist around to see Jack standing there. His hand drops to his side and his face is a mask of indifference and detachment, but his eyes.
I get up from the seat and face him, but I refuse to say anything. He would not have returned if he didn't have a reason. I don't want to discourage him.
"I." Jack starts, but then he stops, and doesn't continue for another minute. Normally I'm not the nervous type, but his silence is starting to get to me. I'm trying to understand what his eyes hold, but it's been a long time since I last had the opportunity, and it shows. I'm getting rusty.
But not this rusty. I can see how the clouds gather and Jack's starting to withdraw again. I know I have to stop that from happening and I try to come up with something with which keep him in the moment with me.
Not Arvin, I hear my own voice tell me. Noted.
He's already started to turn when I stop him with my hand on his chest. "I. what I really meant to say earlier. was thank you. for saving my life."
He nods, but still doesn't utter a word.
"You didn't have to do that," I say. And though I know I mean it, I wonder where the words came from.
So does Jack, I gather, as his eyes suddenly look both surprised and pained.
Slowly, he brings his right hands up to my left shoulder, and it tingles under his touch. I find it too hard to look at him and I lower my gaze, concentrating on breathing, as his other hand comes up to my face, his fingers lightly brushing against my chin. He then draws me closer, and holds me in his arms.
"Yes, I did."
The end.
I thanked him for raising Sydney. He told me to get rest, and moved away. I laugh, but it's not a happy sound. I guess I can't expect any more than I've gotten. Hell, I never even really expected what he's given me so far.
I can still hear the sound of his gun shooting. I remember taking a quick intake of breath, and for a fraction of a second I expected it to be my last. But as I turned, I saw one of Stuka's men falling down and Jack standing behind him, with his gun raised. He'd saved my life, but we needed to flee the club and I knew I'd have to thank him later.
And I still haven't. I intended to. I really did. But when I started to speak, I noticed my eyes were welling up, and in an effort to gain control over my raging emotions, I never finished my sentence, just diverted the conversation to the first thing that came to my mind. Arvin. Could've done better with that, 'Rina.
But I was overwhelmed with the whole notion of Jack saving my life. After all, it was only a few months ago that he had planned to have me executed. And now. I felt so much gratitude, I had to thank him. I knew I owed it to him and more. So I thanked him for raising Sydney.
And when I did? "Get some rest."
At times I wonder what it is about this man I love so much.
I stare at my hands. They still tingle from his touch. My eyes tear up again as a thought crosses my mind. He clasped my hand. He held to it instead of struggling free.
I know I'm probably reading too much into the simple gesture, but for the moment, I allow myself the small fantasy.
I'm brought back from my thoughts by a hand resting on my shoulder. I twist around to see Jack standing there. His hand drops to his side and his face is a mask of indifference and detachment, but his eyes.
I get up from the seat and face him, but I refuse to say anything. He would not have returned if he didn't have a reason. I don't want to discourage him.
"I." Jack starts, but then he stops, and doesn't continue for another minute. Normally I'm not the nervous type, but his silence is starting to get to me. I'm trying to understand what his eyes hold, but it's been a long time since I last had the opportunity, and it shows. I'm getting rusty.
But not this rusty. I can see how the clouds gather and Jack's starting to withdraw again. I know I have to stop that from happening and I try to come up with something with which keep him in the moment with me.
Not Arvin, I hear my own voice tell me. Noted.
He's already started to turn when I stop him with my hand on his chest. "I. what I really meant to say earlier. was thank you. for saving my life."
He nods, but still doesn't utter a word.
"You didn't have to do that," I say. And though I know I mean it, I wonder where the words came from.
So does Jack, I gather, as his eyes suddenly look both surprised and pained.
Slowly, he brings his right hands up to my left shoulder, and it tingles under his touch. I find it too hard to look at him and I lower my gaze, concentrating on breathing, as his other hand comes up to my face, his fingers lightly brushing against my chin. He then draws me closer, and holds me in his arms.
"Yes, I did."
The end.