Title: No gift, No Santa Clause, No mistletoe

Author: Aeryn or Doona or Aeria if you're my English teacher in which case you've just discovered I know how to write more than half an essay and when I get to school I'm doomed. Oh god, how bad would that be?

Disclaimer: Not mine,

Summary: Um, well I don't know...I'm just the writer, how am I supposed to know?

Notes: Arggg, that one was wonderful to write. Hope you like it, read and review!

Chapter 11

Irina didn't know what to expect, it was pouring rain, her hair was everywhere, the rain making curl into spirals and fall, framing her face perfectly, the Latin music was louder than she remembered, quick and fast paced, egging her on and when he grabbed her arm, she froze. She'd though he was going to kiss her again, not the soft sweet kiss from before, the magic she'd been slammed with seconds ago but now seemed an eternity away, but a passionate kiss to end all kisses. She anticipated it and was ready, digging her feet into the ground and watching him like hawk.

But he didn't, his hand just held onto her lower arm, his fingers tightly wrapped and digging into her as he forced her around, twisting her arm until he had it locked behind her back and her face against the dirty, wet wall. "Why did you do that?" His voice was harsh and angered but at the same time came out in a rasping, hoarse voice and Irina grinned against the wall, the sudden, uninvited thought that perhaps the electricity had been one way, dismissed along with his breathlessness. He pushed harder but didn't pull her arm back any further. "Why?"

Irina grinned and promised herself that she'd win this one. She threw a meaningless answer back at him, not realising that her voice would come out as a rasp as well. "Because I wanted to."

Jack heard the rasp in his own voice, mirrored in hers and pushed her harder, pulling her arm up higher, hearing her grunt in pain. "Why did you want to?" He yelled, raising his voice above the rain's own harsh volume. A crack of thunder hit overhead as he spoke, "Tell me Irina," he pulled the arm higher but got no response.

She grinned and pushed her arm down, trying to relieve the stress. He wasn't at a point where he could hurt her yet, she was of course, faking the tension in her arm by pushing down and grunting. Another two centimetres and it was going to hurt though. She had to get out of the position, but she wasn't going to give in. "Because I can."

He pulled up a little more, the motion having no effect, so he pushed her, hard against the wall, seeing her head move to the side and her almond eyes flash with anger. He regretted upsetting her further, but didn't relent, still wanting an answer, "You can jump off a cliff but you haven't done that."

She grinned against the wall, "Do you see any cliffs?" He pushed her harder, a hand jutting into her back and a knee in the middle of her thigh. Obviously he didn't want to get too close, she grinned again, waiting for him to respond, he remained silent, obviously seething but didn't move the arm a millimetre higher.

And then he was closer, the arm gone and she was flipped around, still cornered up against the wall, but now with her back up against it and one of Jack's arms on wither side of her, boxing her in. His face was just inches from hers and he adopted a sardonic and sickly tone to say, "Would you like me to find you one? I'm sure I would if I thought you were going to jump off it."

Irina glared at him, her eyes locking with his and she spat out, feeling the heat radiating off him, the entire time, but using every fibre of her being to ignore it, "You wouldn't let me die, Jack. You couldn't."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he realised she was right. Many times he had told himself that when he found her he'd kill her, and then even after she had come back, he'd said that if he could get her alone, like right now, he'd just shoot her. But he couldn't and the realisation forced him to lose concentration for a moment, causing Irina to throw another curve ball at him, "See, you really like me." He was ready to object, but a hand snaked up from between them and a finger laid itself on his mouth. It remained there and he wasn't stupid enough to risk opening his mouth with her skin so close. "Yes, you like the chance to fight with someone with brains, someone who can mirror your every move, your every thought. It's a challenge and you like that. You like me."

There was no way he could deny it, even if he did think it was false, which he didn't, he couldn't speak and he couldn't shake his head so he just settled for what he hoped was a steady glare. "Hmmm," she was enjoying herself, her finger was, of course, on fire, not to mention her arms where his wrists kept touching her and it was still pouring rain which only added to the atmosphere of invisible tension. "Yes, living in a place where no one sees you for who you really are. Must be hard, Jack," she kept saying his name, letting her accent run riot with her words. "All these stupid CIA people, telling you what to do and now I'm here." She paused, watching him closely, seeing his eyes full of fire, she continued, sly grin in place.

"I'm right aren't I? You like every moment you're with me more than you like living at SD-6, at the CIA, in your own home." His eyes fired up more, the tiny slicker exploding into a bon fire in front of her very eyes, it made her want to laugh, but she held back, trying to finish him off, "You like talking with me, you like working with me and you come to me when you can't work something out. Not the experts at the CIA, me. Why is that Jack? Why?"

She removed her one finger, not just taking it away, but teasing him, all in the name of winning, she silently told herself, she let in run down, off his chin, slowly and almost painfully and then, instead of putting it back to her side, she let the fingertip rest just below her mouth, on the tip of her shin, straight and elegant as she thought hard about his possible answers, her face not showing any hint of her mind's work.

"Why are you doing this?" Answering a question with a question, however lame, was his best bet now and he was not going to tell her why he liked her, hell, he'd only just realised it then and right then, it was growing into so much more.

"Because I know it aggravates you," she paused watching the flash of disapproval, "But also because I want to know why." It was an honest answer and she'd thrown it in, in the hope of him falling into a false sense of partial security. She didn't ask another question, just stared at him, waiting for him to make the next move, knowing he was still thinking over her question from before hand.

"I don't have to answer you questions, you know..." he let his voice trail off, buying himself time.

She grinned, maliciously, "I know that, I'm a prisoner of the United States, you're a CIA agent; you have me pinned against a brick wall, not the other way around. I know you don't have to, it's more of a question of whether or not you want to." She smiled again, looking him over, her head slightly to the side. As she waited the rain continued, more thunder thudding on above and quick flashes illuminating their faces.

"You want to know why I put up with you?" he asked, conceding an inch in the hope that she would falter and mess up.

Irina grinned, "I want to know why you like me." She paused while he just stared at her, hard as if trying to see through her. "But if you want to call it putting up with me, go ahead."

She smiled smugly, putting him off yet again, "What if I said I didn't know." His voice was surprisingly serious, no longer angry but still passionate in an unusual emotional kind of way. "Hmmmm?"

She looked at him, biting her lip on the inside, making it obvious and grinning at him, hoping he wouldn't notice the change in her composure. She had noticed him go from angry to serious and it was now dangerous land for her, but still, she pushed, "If you had absolutely no idea?" he nodded, "Well, first of all I'd call you an idiot, and then I would probably try and work it out for you."

His eyes narrowed, "And what would your answer be?" She'd walked straight into that trap, god knew why, but she had and Jack was thankful that, for once, he had the upper hand. At least, he did, until her mouth opened again.

"Are you saying you don't know why you like me," he nodded, just to get an answer. His eyes widening when she grinned, "You do like me then." He swallowed and some of the anger returned to his face, he said nothing, still waiting for her to answer the question, "I've already explained the attraction, the chemistry; shall we call it." She had him now, words like this were having an obvious effect on him, had the rain not been covering his face, she was sure he'd have been sweating. She grinned, "Thoughts, Jack?" the name was becoming a problem, she let it roll of her tongue with ease and accent, forcing passion and seduction into the single syllable with surprising ease.

He glared at her, "Just the one," she scoffed, as if to say, 'I doubt that', but didn't interrupt him. "I might be mistaken," the words set alarm bells off in her head, to admit to a possible mistake meant he was sure he was right. "But if you're going to say that I am attracted to you, and I have no problem with you believing in such things, that we have chemistry, I'm going to have to ask if this is an admittance of love on your behalf."

He smiled at her, self-satisfied with his attack despite the fact that that one little word was slowly eating him from the inside out even as he said it. She was stuck, to deny, meant starting form square one and to admit, well, was it even true, she paused as she thought it over. She had been in love with him, when they were married, for sure, but now? There was a simple way to work that out and in her head she weighed up the attraction, the chemistry, the liking of now against that of twenty years ago and she was shocked to find that there was ten times more electricity now than ever before. He was right; it may as well have been an admittance of love.

She looked at him, he either knew it was true or he was sure it was wrong, either way, saying so would throw him and inside she was desperate to get it out, to just say it, but she couldn't not directly. She cursed herself once before a shaky voice that still had it's normal strong edge said, seemingly mocking the man pinning her to the wall, "What if I did?"

Plain, nothing could be taken from that answer, it wasn't a stupid statement but it wasn't wise, completely indecisive, he could make what he wanted of it and he did, seeing right through to where Irina's real thoughts lay curled into a strong ball of confusion and orderly chaos and deciphering what she was really thinking. He smiled at her, tilting his head to the side as though he'd already won. And then said what he believed to be a lie and he told it well, not a smidgen of proof that he was lying through his teeth was shown and Irina had no choice but to trust him, "It would change everything."

Lol, have fun with that, I liked writing that one. It was good. Read and review please!