Title: No gifts, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe.
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.
Summary: Sydney and Irina talk on Christmas Day, enter Jack
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.
Notes: Okay, Read and Review and I will give you more, this is now my fourth work in progress so it is really just which stories get the most reviews, but hey if they all get reviews, I will write all of them. Okay, hint hint here, I like, no, love reviews. Hope you are all enjoying this, I love writing. Merry Christmas to you all.
Chapter Three
Irina lifted a hand to her mouth, her defences down due to her meeting with Sydney and her subconscious having been sure Jack wouldn't show up on Christmas day, she suddenly felt unsure how she should act. Carefully, she sat back down on her bed, a safe distance from the window and scrambling to cover her unusually open face. "Jack," hoping to sound bored, Irina's voice came out in shock and she quickly shut her mouth, preparing to try again.
He watched her with caution, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes flickering around her desolate room, as though in search for something to yell at her about, a scratch in the wall he could mistake for an attempted escape or a rip in her sheets. Eventually, he turned to look at her, scowling in his normal way, he sat down and stared. "Irina," he didn't continue, leaving off and leading into an uncomfortable silence of bemusement and aimless searching for both of them.
Irina thought a moment about letting herself get mad at him, yelling until she could yell no more, something she had always dreamt of doing, but chose not to at the last minute, instead, settling more into the hard mattress, her arms behind her and her weight on them completely as they propped her up. Opting for the truth, half knowing that he probably already knew: "Sydney was just here."
He nodded, slowly, not giving any more away than necessary, and even then, not enough to use against him. "I know," He looked at her with more scrutiny and contempt than before and Irina was forced to wonder what was hiding underneath. "I was watching, your cameras." He pointed up, wondering why she hadn't realised someone would notice her little conversation. Of course, Irina had, but she didn't care if people were watching, only if he was watching. "They give audio, visual; all on tape." He pulled a black cassette from the inside of his coat and held it out.
Irina had to wonder where he was taking this and she went through all the possibilities, eventually deciding that he was simply buying time, forming his own plan in his own mind. She stood up and crossed over to the window, sitting down she asked, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
His head shot up quicker than he would have liked, his eyes flickering with light quickly, "No." The answer came out before Jack could stop it and he instantly regretted it, seeing the smirk over taking Irina's lips.
"You're spending Christmas with your wife?" she asked, quietly, laughing a little under her words and at the same time sad that such a statement should be anything but true. "How ironic. No one even knows that you're married."
Jack shot up, quickly and turned his back on her, without thought and without bothering to try to salvage his pride. "Irina, I'm here to discuss Sydney, I don't appreciate you playing with her like you do." He trailed off, wanting to see if he could get anything out of her worth remembering.
Slightly hurt by his words, but not sure of the reason, she played with his sentence, looking for a weakness and grabbing the first one she found. "You know..." she paused, giving him time to dread what was coming. "It's a wonder that you call me by my first name." It sank in before Irina continued her assault. "I mean, does the CIA usually tolerate prisoners to be called by their first names, because I know that when it occurs between an agent and a handler," she cocked her head, slightly, smiling at his suddenly stiffened back, "Like, for instance if Agent Vaughn was to call Sydney by her first name. He'd be accused of emotional attachment. Isn't it the same for a prisoner of my type?"
Jack continued to look away, letting her words hit him with full force, not ready to give in and shut them out. She was having a shot at him and he wasn't going to give her any more pleasure than necessary, but he had no rebut for what she'd just told him, it was, mostly, true. He turned around a little further, preparing to try to return the conversation to a topic he could control.
He didn't get a word in, Irina's voice hitting him again, accent thick and amusement among other things underlying her words. "I mean, if you were to call me Laura," another pause. "They'd have a psychiatrist on you in no time, but being able to call me by my real first name, that's something different."
Jack couldn't stop himself from letting it out, "You're not Laura." He stayed where he was, his face shadowed and darkened without enough light for her to make out anything for sure. His words were covered in spite and anger but still cold and unemotional, as though it was a rule that he consider her so. Again, Irina had to wonder what it was that he was hiding underneath.
She shook he head, slowly, moving enough so that he could see her and continuing. "I am to some degree. Though, no, I don't suppose I am. Does that upset you Jack?" She waited for a response but got none, standing, she moved to the window and took a seat. "You've never spoken of me as Laura since I got back?" She waited, looking for a reaction and seeing his fists clench at his side, proved that he had indeed.
In Jack's mind, the meeting with Barnett ran back through his mind and he scowled at the wall he was looking at. "Never," he spat out, covering the word in hatred, purposely pouring anger and abuse into his voice.
She pouted to the window, not thinking he would see, but doing it to keep the game alive. "I don't believe you, Jack..." again she let her voice trail off, his name rolling off her tongue, so like it had millions of times before.
Taking a deep breath that he hoped she wouldn't notice, Jack turned around and faced her, a smug look about her face, shoulders back, chin up, neck flexed and arms lying out on the bench in front of her. She raised an eyebrow and smiled arrogantly. "But, if I'm already so sure, I don't need you to tell me that I'm right." It was a question and a statement of defiance and amusement all in one.
Jack just looked back, his face closed off, having found something to ground himself, he appeared perfectly happy to stand there and take anything she chose to throw at him now.
Seeing this, Irina picked up the pace, changing the topic without caring about flow, only trying to find a weak spot. "What about Vaughn then?" She had been expecting a wince, but when he just looked back she dug further. "He's quite the lady's man. He's got Sydney wrapped around his little finger. She's totally in love with him," she slowed her voice, careful not to let Jack see that this wasn't the whole or exact truth. "Could be the death of her. She'll end up in too deep." It was hurting her to even think about her daughter dying, the thought that any man could control her stinging with a weird sense of deja vu, but on the outside, she just kept speaking, biting at Jack's wounds and increasing his fears.
"I don't know what would happen if she ever dreamt of doing anything...against protocol. I mean, she would get fired, or, more probably, in a lot of trouble with Sloane. I wouldn't trust him." Irina realised that she was stuffing Sydney's life up if Jack was dumb enough to take all of this to heart and silently promised herself that at the end of it all, she would try to fix it. At that moment, it didn't really matter. Her adrenaline was up and her passions on fire. "He is rather good looking though, smart, sweet, concerned for Sydney, who wouldn't fall for him. Risk their world." Each word came out in syllables, eliciting memories.
Jack remembered the several occasions on which Sydney had risked her world for Vaughn and quickly steadied himself, recognising what Irina was doing and grabbing a hold of himself, keeping calm and quiet, waiting for her to put a foot out, his many traps set, but all of them just out of reach.
"And this whole mix up with people working for at least three different agencies, I mean, no one can just be a spy anymore, they have to be a double agent," she moved off in a different tangent and Jack settled down to listen. "Or a triple agent. There must be a double at the CIA, how do you think I get all my Intel?" Irina had expected this, at least, to get a reaction out of him, but he just looked at her coldly. "Maybe it's you..." she grinned, letting a hand come up to hold her chin in mock thought, "Or...oh, hang on, this is perfect, this fits wonderfully, maybe it's Agent Vaughn..." She laughed outright, letting the humour flow through her body and her eyes flickering at the thought while her mind silently hoped she wasn't right.
Jack just continued to stare at her, inside he could feel his blood boiling, and his mind hurting as a headache emerged quickly and defiantly. He doubted what she was saying was true. On the surface, it all made sense, but taking time to look at her so called truths, Jack found no supporting evidence and surmised that she was flat out lying. With more control than he had ever shown, he spoke, his voice level, calm, not hostile, not welcoming, not offensive, not defensive, and yet not nothing. "I doubt that."
Quickly her laughter dimmed and her face fell, Jack's mind registered a win and he couldn't help but smirk at her, his eyes still concentrating, but his mouth in a small grin of victory.
She just looked at him and pushed the blade in deeper, twisting it, trying to find some sort of pain. "What about me," she winced back at her own words, her mind anticipating the attack her heart was about to throw at her own husband. "Is it possible that I am not evil?" She bit her lip, her feet squirming beneath the table, involuntarily.
Jack watched her, intrigued and slightly scared all at once. He was feeling at the question, it had taken a savage bite out of him, but he was too interested in the effect it was having on Irina; her own words apparently hurting her more than him.
Still, she pushed on, trying desperately to find a response, to win even the smallest of battles, just so that she didn't have to find a reason for her own downfall. "That I do have passions, emotions, that I might actually have a heart underneath and not just be the uncaring, callous monster you're telling everyone I am. Maybe I do like Sydney, I love our daughter; it could all be true. That I love Sydney, has it occurred to you? At all?" She paused, looking for an answer and getting none, Jack simply looking back at her, slight shock edging onto his face but nothing she could consider a win.
She stood and moved away from the window, her head dropping down and a hand raising to her forehead to massage at her temples, her body giving up, but her mind and her mouth throwing out one more curve ball. "Have you never thought that maybe I'm still in love with the life I left, that I am indeed still completely in love with that innocent girl that I raised, that I'm still in love with -" she stopped abruptly, her eyes wide and her voice gone, perhaps forever as her mouth was as dry as the Sahara. She realised that she had gone too far and that she was no longer fighting Jack but fighting truths she didn't want to know about.
Yummy, best chapter yet in my opinion, you'll have to review hard to get more!
Rating: I'm going to go with PG-13, just to be safe, but it isn't that bad, not yet anyways.
Summary: Sydney and Irina talk on Christmas Day, enter Jack
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to write anything here because if there really is a lawyer who is going to go through Fanfiction.net and pull anyone up for not writing the blatantly obvious, well, I have no money anyways.
Author: Again, dumb question, me!!! Aeria, Doona, Aeryn depending who you want to know me as.
Notes: Okay, Read and Review and I will give you more, this is now my fourth work in progress so it is really just which stories get the most reviews, but hey if they all get reviews, I will write all of them. Okay, hint hint here, I like, no, love reviews. Hope you are all enjoying this, I love writing. Merry Christmas to you all.
Chapter Three
Irina lifted a hand to her mouth, her defences down due to her meeting with Sydney and her subconscious having been sure Jack wouldn't show up on Christmas day, she suddenly felt unsure how she should act. Carefully, she sat back down on her bed, a safe distance from the window and scrambling to cover her unusually open face. "Jack," hoping to sound bored, Irina's voice came out in shock and she quickly shut her mouth, preparing to try again.
He watched her with caution, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes flickering around her desolate room, as though in search for something to yell at her about, a scratch in the wall he could mistake for an attempted escape or a rip in her sheets. Eventually, he turned to look at her, scowling in his normal way, he sat down and stared. "Irina," he didn't continue, leaving off and leading into an uncomfortable silence of bemusement and aimless searching for both of them.
Irina thought a moment about letting herself get mad at him, yelling until she could yell no more, something she had always dreamt of doing, but chose not to at the last minute, instead, settling more into the hard mattress, her arms behind her and her weight on them completely as they propped her up. Opting for the truth, half knowing that he probably already knew: "Sydney was just here."
He nodded, slowly, not giving any more away than necessary, and even then, not enough to use against him. "I know," He looked at her with more scrutiny and contempt than before and Irina was forced to wonder what was hiding underneath. "I was watching, your cameras." He pointed up, wondering why she hadn't realised someone would notice her little conversation. Of course, Irina had, but she didn't care if people were watching, only if he was watching. "They give audio, visual; all on tape." He pulled a black cassette from the inside of his coat and held it out.
Irina had to wonder where he was taking this and she went through all the possibilities, eventually deciding that he was simply buying time, forming his own plan in his own mind. She stood up and crossed over to the window, sitting down she asked, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
His head shot up quicker than he would have liked, his eyes flickering with light quickly, "No." The answer came out before Jack could stop it and he instantly regretted it, seeing the smirk over taking Irina's lips.
"You're spending Christmas with your wife?" she asked, quietly, laughing a little under her words and at the same time sad that such a statement should be anything but true. "How ironic. No one even knows that you're married."
Jack shot up, quickly and turned his back on her, without thought and without bothering to try to salvage his pride. "Irina, I'm here to discuss Sydney, I don't appreciate you playing with her like you do." He trailed off, wanting to see if he could get anything out of her worth remembering.
Slightly hurt by his words, but not sure of the reason, she played with his sentence, looking for a weakness and grabbing the first one she found. "You know..." she paused, giving him time to dread what was coming. "It's a wonder that you call me by my first name." It sank in before Irina continued her assault. "I mean, does the CIA usually tolerate prisoners to be called by their first names, because I know that when it occurs between an agent and a handler," she cocked her head, slightly, smiling at his suddenly stiffened back, "Like, for instance if Agent Vaughn was to call Sydney by her first name. He'd be accused of emotional attachment. Isn't it the same for a prisoner of my type?"
Jack continued to look away, letting her words hit him with full force, not ready to give in and shut them out. She was having a shot at him and he wasn't going to give her any more pleasure than necessary, but he had no rebut for what she'd just told him, it was, mostly, true. He turned around a little further, preparing to try to return the conversation to a topic he could control.
He didn't get a word in, Irina's voice hitting him again, accent thick and amusement among other things underlying her words. "I mean, if you were to call me Laura," another pause. "They'd have a psychiatrist on you in no time, but being able to call me by my real first name, that's something different."
Jack couldn't stop himself from letting it out, "You're not Laura." He stayed where he was, his face shadowed and darkened without enough light for her to make out anything for sure. His words were covered in spite and anger but still cold and unemotional, as though it was a rule that he consider her so. Again, Irina had to wonder what it was that he was hiding underneath.
She shook he head, slowly, moving enough so that he could see her and continuing. "I am to some degree. Though, no, I don't suppose I am. Does that upset you Jack?" She waited for a response but got none, standing, she moved to the window and took a seat. "You've never spoken of me as Laura since I got back?" She waited, looking for a reaction and seeing his fists clench at his side, proved that he had indeed.
In Jack's mind, the meeting with Barnett ran back through his mind and he scowled at the wall he was looking at. "Never," he spat out, covering the word in hatred, purposely pouring anger and abuse into his voice.
She pouted to the window, not thinking he would see, but doing it to keep the game alive. "I don't believe you, Jack..." again she let her voice trail off, his name rolling off her tongue, so like it had millions of times before.
Taking a deep breath that he hoped she wouldn't notice, Jack turned around and faced her, a smug look about her face, shoulders back, chin up, neck flexed and arms lying out on the bench in front of her. She raised an eyebrow and smiled arrogantly. "But, if I'm already so sure, I don't need you to tell me that I'm right." It was a question and a statement of defiance and amusement all in one.
Jack just looked back, his face closed off, having found something to ground himself, he appeared perfectly happy to stand there and take anything she chose to throw at him now.
Seeing this, Irina picked up the pace, changing the topic without caring about flow, only trying to find a weak spot. "What about Vaughn then?" She had been expecting a wince, but when he just looked back she dug further. "He's quite the lady's man. He's got Sydney wrapped around his little finger. She's totally in love with him," she slowed her voice, careful not to let Jack see that this wasn't the whole or exact truth. "Could be the death of her. She'll end up in too deep." It was hurting her to even think about her daughter dying, the thought that any man could control her stinging with a weird sense of deja vu, but on the outside, she just kept speaking, biting at Jack's wounds and increasing his fears.
"I don't know what would happen if she ever dreamt of doing anything...against protocol. I mean, she would get fired, or, more probably, in a lot of trouble with Sloane. I wouldn't trust him." Irina realised that she was stuffing Sydney's life up if Jack was dumb enough to take all of this to heart and silently promised herself that at the end of it all, she would try to fix it. At that moment, it didn't really matter. Her adrenaline was up and her passions on fire. "He is rather good looking though, smart, sweet, concerned for Sydney, who wouldn't fall for him. Risk their world." Each word came out in syllables, eliciting memories.
Jack remembered the several occasions on which Sydney had risked her world for Vaughn and quickly steadied himself, recognising what Irina was doing and grabbing a hold of himself, keeping calm and quiet, waiting for her to put a foot out, his many traps set, but all of them just out of reach.
"And this whole mix up with people working for at least three different agencies, I mean, no one can just be a spy anymore, they have to be a double agent," she moved off in a different tangent and Jack settled down to listen. "Or a triple agent. There must be a double at the CIA, how do you think I get all my Intel?" Irina had expected this, at least, to get a reaction out of him, but he just looked at her coldly. "Maybe it's you..." she grinned, letting a hand come up to hold her chin in mock thought, "Or...oh, hang on, this is perfect, this fits wonderfully, maybe it's Agent Vaughn..." She laughed outright, letting the humour flow through her body and her eyes flickering at the thought while her mind silently hoped she wasn't right.
Jack just continued to stare at her, inside he could feel his blood boiling, and his mind hurting as a headache emerged quickly and defiantly. He doubted what she was saying was true. On the surface, it all made sense, but taking time to look at her so called truths, Jack found no supporting evidence and surmised that she was flat out lying. With more control than he had ever shown, he spoke, his voice level, calm, not hostile, not welcoming, not offensive, not defensive, and yet not nothing. "I doubt that."
Quickly her laughter dimmed and her face fell, Jack's mind registered a win and he couldn't help but smirk at her, his eyes still concentrating, but his mouth in a small grin of victory.
She just looked at him and pushed the blade in deeper, twisting it, trying to find some sort of pain. "What about me," she winced back at her own words, her mind anticipating the attack her heart was about to throw at her own husband. "Is it possible that I am not evil?" She bit her lip, her feet squirming beneath the table, involuntarily.
Jack watched her, intrigued and slightly scared all at once. He was feeling at the question, it had taken a savage bite out of him, but he was too interested in the effect it was having on Irina; her own words apparently hurting her more than him.
Still, she pushed on, trying desperately to find a response, to win even the smallest of battles, just so that she didn't have to find a reason for her own downfall. "That I do have passions, emotions, that I might actually have a heart underneath and not just be the uncaring, callous monster you're telling everyone I am. Maybe I do like Sydney, I love our daughter; it could all be true. That I love Sydney, has it occurred to you? At all?" She paused, looking for an answer and getting none, Jack simply looking back at her, slight shock edging onto his face but nothing she could consider a win.
She stood and moved away from the window, her head dropping down and a hand raising to her forehead to massage at her temples, her body giving up, but her mind and her mouth throwing out one more curve ball. "Have you never thought that maybe I'm still in love with the life I left, that I am indeed still completely in love with that innocent girl that I raised, that I'm still in love with -" she stopped abruptly, her eyes wide and her voice gone, perhaps forever as her mouth was as dry as the Sahara. She realised that she had gone too far and that she was no longer fighting Jack but fighting truths she didn't want to know about.
Yummy, best chapter yet in my opinion, you'll have to review hard to get more!
