Pairing: Jack/NadiaA/N: For Gianna and the dirtyhotbadwrong ficathon on lj. Her prompt was…Must have: Banter. Could have: Some kind of fallout with some member of the fam. Shouldn't have: Too much angst
Well, not too much angst, which is really difficult coming from me. This was definitely a challenge, so I hope it entertains!
Nadia Santos has never met her mother.
Well, unless you consider saying goodbye to a corpse a "meeting"…the well placed bullet of a double-cross had taken any opportunity for late night chats- about boys and nail polish and which semi-automatic rifle really packs the best punch- away from her a few months ago. Even Sydney's half-formed memories of Laura and tinged recollections of Irina don't really add up to any sort of workable impression of the woman who gave them life.
So, no, she's never met her mother.
Until now.
So how exactly does she explain to her mother, the woman with her eyes and shoulders, why Agent Jack Bristow, former SD-6 agent, current CIA operative, and, most importantly, Irina's husband, is strategically placed between her daughter's thighs?
The day had started out like any other.
Get up. Brush teeth. Shower. Grab a change of clothes. Arrange hair. Dash on makeup. Pack briefcase. Pocket keys. Sneak out of Jack's apartment as stealthily as possible.
In the two months since she and Jack Bristow had begun their…well, it certainly wasn't a relationship when the man you slept with abandoned his own bed before you woke every morning. And it wasn't exactly a tryst…that implied something quick and fleeting.
Jack Bristow was anything but quick or fleeting. Long…slow…revelatory perhaps…but…
Really, it was easy to lose one's train of thought when a significantly older, completely off-limits man was involved.
Right. So, since two months ago, when she'd saved his life for a second time, things had been different. It could have been the fact that she'd detected a double-cross in Taipei before he did. Perhaps it was the decisive way she'd eliminated their opponent. Or it could even have been the dangerously low cut dress she'd been wearing as part of her disguise.
Most probably? The reason she and Jack had given in to the tension that had been bubbling under the surface of their working relationship for months had less to do with ammunition or clothing and more to do with the drugs they'd been slipped.
In the private room of the hostess club, the drug had begun to take effect…it seemed their informant wanted to test their loyalties, to see if they really were the May/December couple he'd been told to meet by his superiors. An inhibition lowering drug combined with direct orders to prove to him they were the lovers they said they were could have been disastrous under normal circumstances. The drug worked quickly, like sodium pentothal at breakneck speed. Within moments of sipping their celebratory drinks with their hosts, Jack Bristow had begun to feel the effects, sliding his hand up her leg at the slightest suggestion.
But after many doses of Milo Rambaldi's serum, courtesy of her father, Nadia had found herself more resistant to the drug. So she'd played along, allowing Jack to caress and fondle as their attacker looked on. Slithering across the table toward her partner, Nadia assumed the role of wanton vixen, an act which allowed her to get just close enough to their host to crush his windpipe.
She could have backed down once the threat was neutralized- without direct provocation, Jack would stop his ministrations and they could abandon their charade. But since the drug only lowered inhibitions, revealing innermost desires, she'd decided to let it run its course.
Nadia had continued to advance along the table top, shoving their double-crossing contact out of the way, and depositing herself in Jack's lap.
"Agent Santos" Jack said rigidly as she wrapped her legs around his middle, "the mission is a failure. We must abort."
Her lips went Cheshire at his strangled tone. "True, but we're not bound for the rendezvous point for another hour due to the difficulty," she punctuated her statement with a little hip thrust, "of the negotiations. We have time to explore other options."
Jack's mouth set into disapproving lines even as his hands jerkily skimmed her thighs, "This isn't a game. Though you are correct that we must wait here till the appointed time, we must use this period to strategize. And," he said with a slight groan as she dared to drag her teeth lightly against his earlobe, "wait for the drug to wear off."
Nadia breathed into his ear softly, savoring the shiver that went through him. She'd played a coquette enough times during her life on the streets in Argentina for it to become second nature, but she was realizing as his hands slid up to her waist and tightened on her hips that the role was much more delicious when it wasn't completely an act.
"It seems to me," she said, starting to roll her hips steadily against him, "that you and I know exactly what we should be doing with this time."
"Agent…Nadia, stop this immediately."
"Do you really want that?" she asked softly, her lips trailing across his cheeks. As her breath ghosted across his lips, his eyes closed tightly.
His hands became more daring even as he protested, "You've been trained in the protocol for dealing with narcotics and," his breath more ragged, "hallucinogens with unknown properties."
"Ummhumm…" she hummed as she unbuttoned his dress shirt, and began reciting CIA chapter and verse. "First, assess the situation." She ran her hands along his exposed chest. "Then, determine the nature of the substance." Her hands wandered toward his lap. "Finally, document the effects."
"And what are your conclusions?" came his reply, still shy of capitulation though his hands seemed to want to move in tandem with her own.
"Well," she let the word roll on her lips, "I think one more test is needed." She panicked slightly as he moved away. Nadia realized that she needed to do something to tell him that this wasn't just a game. Or, even if it was, that she intended to play it to the hilt.
Grabbing his face and making his eyes meet her own, she said very carefully, "Do to me what you've been wanting to do to me, and what I've wanted you to do to me, ever since I joined APO."
She watched in triumph as shock raced across his usually stolid face, his eyes glinting with anger, distrust, and not just a little desire. Nadia felt a momentary measure of guilt over what she was doing- she knew how much Jack Bristow hated to lose control- but the fact that his desire for her was plain to see washed it all away. Still, she wasn't sure if he'd give in to the effects of the drug and the simmering sexual tension in their relationship or try still to fight it.
But when she found herself thrown onto the table top, legs splayed, and a very decisive Jack Bristow lying on top of her, she decided that the time for questions was over. As he pressed himself against her, should could certainly feel his answer.
"Be sure to document all the effects of our," he started to move against her, "situation, won't you?"
And that, as they say, had been that. She had been certain that he'd be angry later on when he realized she hadn't been affected by the drug like he had, but Jack had been surprisingly calm about it. While she hadn't been expecting anything beyond that one night in the Taipei club, it seemed like Jack had other ideas. They continued to "document the effects," hiding their research from everyone, for two whole months.
Until today. In fact, until now, when Irina Derevko was discovered, not only back from the dead, but ensconced in the chair next to Jack's bed. The bed that Nadia and Jack had rushed to as soon as they'd crossed the threshold of his home. The bed that had been their only objective, the two of them barely removing any clothes in an effort to reach it.
Which, when Nadia thought about it, was a good thing. It was one thing to meet your mother with her husband between your thighs. It was another to be naked at the same time.
Nadia wasn't sure what to expect when Irina pinned them with her laser beam stare. Jack had turned sheet white, but at least had preserved some dignity as he eased slowly off of her. Nadia's only reaction was to gape like a fish and just wonder what would happen next.
She certainly wasn't expecting Irina's pithy greeting:
"Well, I'm glad to see that my family is getting along so well."
After that, instead of beating a hasty retreat, Jack had staunchly refused to leave Nadia alone with Irina. She might have taken it as chivalry, but was more than a little suspicious of Jack's motives. Still, when Irina had demanded to speak to her daughter alone, using Sydney's ignorance of their relationship as a bargaining chip, Jack had acquiesced.
Neither Nadia nor Jack wanted his daughter to know anything about this, that was for sure. Really, how did you explain to your half-sister how exactly you met your mother?
As soon as Jack left the room, the inevitable conversation began. Not with, "Nadia, I'm your mother." Or "Irina, I've always wanted to meet you. Why did you give me up?" or any other Hallmark variation. Instead, what Nadia got was,
"So, how did my husband and my daughter become lovers?"
The first thing Nadia Santos learned in "Irina Derevko:101" was her mother's ability to get to the heart of an issue. And oddly enough, or maybe not so oddly, when Nadia was given the first opportunity to confide in her mother, she didn't hold back. She told her all about the club…the double-cross…the drug…what happened next…
And was shocked when her mother began to chuckle.
"So, you think that you were in control of the situation, don't you, my daughter?"
Nadia's heart swelled at the appellation even as her brow furrowed in confusion.
Quickly schooling her expression, she asked, "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Nadia," Irina said almost kindly, reaching over to grab her daughter's hand, "I've known Jack Bristow for many years. I've seen him on missions. I've watched how he works. And there's one thing I know for sure."
"Jack doesn't take a sip of anything unless he knows what's in it."