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Chapter Twenty One
Irina slammed the door, perhaps hating herself more than anyone else. She was acting like a fool; she was a super spy and yet this one, single man had been able to get a reaction out of her. Not a reaction she wanted to give either. She'd been hasty and compulsive and she was never either of them. She had hit him hard but, of course, had she actually wanted to hurt him, to inflict pain, she would have simply kicked him into unconsciousness instead of what she was now deeming an overly feminine slap to the face. She fell down on the bed, refusing to collapse completely and instead just sitting on the edge, hands on either side of her body.
He truly had been cruel and she was used to that, in her line of work, cruelty was a necessity, it was a way of life, it was, had been, her way of life. But Jack had never before been cruel to her, to anyone for that matter that didn't deserve it. She let the incredulous grin creep onto her face; she did deserve cruelty, she probably deserved death. She took a deep breath, not used to being this angry.
Life with Jack had been fake, she knew that, she'd believed that even he had sometimes felt that there was something missing from the relationship; she supposed it had been love, but she had never been sure and she still wasn't. She had loved him, that had never been a question, but it wasn't that 'no-lies, no-secrets' kind of love, there were too many secrets, too many lies, perhaps that had been what had been missing, she could never be sure it now appeared. Her thoughts would have continued but for a nock at the door.
Her brow creased at the noise because it definitely wasn't Jack, the soft rapping of the wood had been hesitant and never in her life had she known him to be hesitant at anything. Quickly taking in the other possibilities, she realized it must have been Sydney home and rose to open it.
Of course, on the other side of town, Sydney was busy giving Francie her key and would, twenty minutes later, call home to tell them she'd be another hour as she'd run into and old friend and couldn't really come up with an excuse for not getting back sooner. But Irina didn't know that, she expected Sydney to be on the other side of the door and wandering over she began to pull her composure out of the gutter and reassemble it around her.
A second, less timid, knock made her pause, wondering what to say to her daughter who would, no doubt, have a few questions regarding what had happened in her absence. That one second's pause made sure that Jack voiced his presence, forcing Irina to realize it was he and not their daughter outside the door, "Irina, are you in there?"
For a second she contemplated fleeing out the window, she was certain she could be out of the country in less than an hour but she wasn't sure that that was really an option. Her second thought was to just jump out the window and make her way back to her cell; of course this was going to be difficult considering she had no idea where it was her cell actually was. Her last and final option was to stay put and that was exactly what she chose to do; remaining on the bed, but rearranging herself to look away from the door, back straight and legs crossed.
Her aim was to seem nonchalant, this wouldn't work considering the single tear stain that she hadn't noticed there, but she was prepared to give it a shot. Jack knocked again, hesitance gone, worry appearing. "Irina, are you in there?"
She pursed her lips, grappling to hold a smug grin to her mouth as she lets her eyelids shut. She refused to answer.
"Irina..." he asked again and she had to wonder why he hadn't just stormed in, surly by now he would suspect she had run for it and would have his phone out ordering she be shot on sighting. But he hadn't, theories of her running were gone, he just couldn't see her doing it and all he could think about now was what if something had happened, what if, for some inane reason, he never got to talk to her again, and that was what made him throw the door open.
"Irina," her back was to him, nothing given away except the overwhelming tension that oozed around them both and the slightly ridged back. He walked in two more steps before stopping, letting the door swing shut behind him as his brow deepened and he watched her from behind. He was about to speak when her voice cut through.
Crisp and sterile, it was like the bed in the hospital that had been filled with a dying man the day before but was now as white and placid as ever, "You're right Jack. You are a challenge, difficult to get into, harder to get out of. But you have to admit I did it, ten years I did it, I used you like I used everyone else and you didn't even realize what was happening, not until I was gone. And now I am back and I will do it again, this time, you won't let me near enough to do any harm, but Sydney, she's gullible, she might."
She had to stop there before her voice cracked, line after line of lies, it made her sick to her stomach but it was distancing him, it would only make him hate her more and that was what was best if all he was going to do was accuse her of crimes which were never meant to be committed.
Behind her, Jack's brow creased and for a second, he believed that what he had been thinking had truly been a mistake. But he didn't freak out, didn't take it as face value and for once he was lucky he over- analyzed because once he slid his mind underneath her words he heard the uncalled for edge, the faint tang of bitterness that shouldn't have been there and the rush she was in to get the words out.
He nodded, knowing there was little chance of her seeing him, instead doing it to reassure himself that he was, indeed, right. Now all that was left to do was get her to listen and what better way than with words and games. He bit his lip before starting.
"Look, Irina I would really appreciate it if you would turn around and listen to what I have to say."
She sat rigidly still for a few moments, debating over what to do. If she chose to turn around, she would obviously be leaving herself open for attack but should she choose to continue to look at the opposite wall there was no chance he would believe she truly was indifferent and unaffected by the discussion. Sighing heavily, she swung around, letting her legs hang off the bed and her hands sit dormant at her sides. "What?"
"Good," Jack muttered, more to himself than to her. He took a deep breath and began, "Trying to tell me that I'm right, that you really are here to get to me, to betray us all, is useless. For a few good reasons." He smiled, trying to inject humour into the conversation but Irina's firm scowl not budging; obviously twenty years with only increasingly dark and morbid humour had ruined him.
"Firstly, it's a blatant lie, I can see that, anyone with half a brain could see that. And secondly, you know full well that I see it as my job to disagree with everything and anything you say." Her lips didn't twitch up but Jack didn't miss the slight cocking of her head and a change in composure. "So we'll pretend you ever said any of that."
"Jack, you're being stupid." Her voice was still crisp and sterile but that was a faint shake to it that no one would have noticed unless they were expecting it and he was.
"Maybe," he responded, not ready to argue over arguing, "But I want to say something."
She grinned, smirking at him and shaking her head, "You sound like you're going to propose."
And that was the first sign to her that things were no longer in her control; his back straightened and his eyes slid immediately from hers to everywhere else in the room. He breathed out through his nose, "Will you listen?"
"Make it quick, I want to go back to my cell."
"Hypothetically," he saw her eyes widen, but continued, "what would you want me to do if you told me you loved me?" He was turning this around, he expected her to answer but there wasn't any answer that was safe, not one and to remain silent was suicide, she was about to start gabbling and, if the situation got out of hand, kick him hard and run, but he saved himself from the pain and continued, his words quick and slippery as he tried to not look her in the eye. "I mean...what if I told you...that I loved you?"
A pause, then again he started, not even giving her the chance to answer, "Hypothetically, if I told you, would you be happy, sad, angry, scared? What? Because at the moment, I think I might know the...hypothetical...answer. Irina," saying her name didn't help either of them, "When you reappeared, I wanted you dead." She flinched and despite the fact that this pained him, he was also granted a peek at the idea that perhaps he was right and was not about to make a huge fool out of himself, "I did, I'd compartmentalised for twenty years and I was ready to see you, another enemy of the United States, die. You weren't a person; you were an enemy, a bad guy as our daughter would say."
Irina stared at him, wondering why he was doing this, but she didn't speak. "This feeling didn't last, before I'd even spoken to you, when all I'd seen was you, pacing your little cell without any sound of you, no smell, no taste, I hadn't even been in the same room as you, I found myself unbearably hungry." Even the great and infamous Irina couldn't keep her feelings, her confusion, under wraps at that and Jack was pleased to see her swallowing, her brow creeping lower as nothing seemed to make sense.
"Yeah, stupid I know. And now, even though I am not supposed to and I'm not allowed to and I've told myself I don't. I'm not going to deny it any more. Now there are several very important issues we need to discuss but right now, I just want to make something entirely understandable; completely clear." He paused, not sure how to put it, not sure what he was saying was making any sense or even if she was listening, her face now blank and her eyes phased out and looking down at the ground, away from his, denying him access.
"Irina," he tried to grab her attention back and immediately her eyes were back up, on the same level as his, blown clashing with brown. "In a way," he began carefully, "You're one of the few people that seems to think along with me, you understand me, which I suppose was your job, but you do, surprisingly well and that's unusual." He bit his lip, this wasn't making sense, so he opted to just try to give it to her in one simple sentence. "Irina, hypothetically or not, I want you...I mean, I..."
He would have gone had the phone not rung, but it did and not just hypothetically.
Reviews please, this is also very close to finishing so please make sure that you tell me what you think.
Chapter Twenty One
Irina slammed the door, perhaps hating herself more than anyone else. She was acting like a fool; she was a super spy and yet this one, single man had been able to get a reaction out of her. Not a reaction she wanted to give either. She'd been hasty and compulsive and she was never either of them. She had hit him hard but, of course, had she actually wanted to hurt him, to inflict pain, she would have simply kicked him into unconsciousness instead of what she was now deeming an overly feminine slap to the face. She fell down on the bed, refusing to collapse completely and instead just sitting on the edge, hands on either side of her body.
He truly had been cruel and she was used to that, in her line of work, cruelty was a necessity, it was a way of life, it was, had been, her way of life. But Jack had never before been cruel to her, to anyone for that matter that didn't deserve it. She let the incredulous grin creep onto her face; she did deserve cruelty, she probably deserved death. She took a deep breath, not used to being this angry.
Life with Jack had been fake, she knew that, she'd believed that even he had sometimes felt that there was something missing from the relationship; she supposed it had been love, but she had never been sure and she still wasn't. She had loved him, that had never been a question, but it wasn't that 'no-lies, no-secrets' kind of love, there were too many secrets, too many lies, perhaps that had been what had been missing, she could never be sure it now appeared. Her thoughts would have continued but for a nock at the door.
Her brow creased at the noise because it definitely wasn't Jack, the soft rapping of the wood had been hesitant and never in her life had she known him to be hesitant at anything. Quickly taking in the other possibilities, she realized it must have been Sydney home and rose to open it.
Of course, on the other side of town, Sydney was busy giving Francie her key and would, twenty minutes later, call home to tell them she'd be another hour as she'd run into and old friend and couldn't really come up with an excuse for not getting back sooner. But Irina didn't know that, she expected Sydney to be on the other side of the door and wandering over she began to pull her composure out of the gutter and reassemble it around her.
A second, less timid, knock made her pause, wondering what to say to her daughter who would, no doubt, have a few questions regarding what had happened in her absence. That one second's pause made sure that Jack voiced his presence, forcing Irina to realize it was he and not their daughter outside the door, "Irina, are you in there?"
For a second she contemplated fleeing out the window, she was certain she could be out of the country in less than an hour but she wasn't sure that that was really an option. Her second thought was to just jump out the window and make her way back to her cell; of course this was going to be difficult considering she had no idea where it was her cell actually was. Her last and final option was to stay put and that was exactly what she chose to do; remaining on the bed, but rearranging herself to look away from the door, back straight and legs crossed.
Her aim was to seem nonchalant, this wouldn't work considering the single tear stain that she hadn't noticed there, but she was prepared to give it a shot. Jack knocked again, hesitance gone, worry appearing. "Irina, are you in there?"
She pursed her lips, grappling to hold a smug grin to her mouth as she lets her eyelids shut. She refused to answer.
"Irina..." he asked again and she had to wonder why he hadn't just stormed in, surly by now he would suspect she had run for it and would have his phone out ordering she be shot on sighting. But he hadn't, theories of her running were gone, he just couldn't see her doing it and all he could think about now was what if something had happened, what if, for some inane reason, he never got to talk to her again, and that was what made him throw the door open.
"Irina," her back was to him, nothing given away except the overwhelming tension that oozed around them both and the slightly ridged back. He walked in two more steps before stopping, letting the door swing shut behind him as his brow deepened and he watched her from behind. He was about to speak when her voice cut through.
Crisp and sterile, it was like the bed in the hospital that had been filled with a dying man the day before but was now as white and placid as ever, "You're right Jack. You are a challenge, difficult to get into, harder to get out of. But you have to admit I did it, ten years I did it, I used you like I used everyone else and you didn't even realize what was happening, not until I was gone. And now I am back and I will do it again, this time, you won't let me near enough to do any harm, but Sydney, she's gullible, she might."
She had to stop there before her voice cracked, line after line of lies, it made her sick to her stomach but it was distancing him, it would only make him hate her more and that was what was best if all he was going to do was accuse her of crimes which were never meant to be committed.
Behind her, Jack's brow creased and for a second, he believed that what he had been thinking had truly been a mistake. But he didn't freak out, didn't take it as face value and for once he was lucky he over- analyzed because once he slid his mind underneath her words he heard the uncalled for edge, the faint tang of bitterness that shouldn't have been there and the rush she was in to get the words out.
He nodded, knowing there was little chance of her seeing him, instead doing it to reassure himself that he was, indeed, right. Now all that was left to do was get her to listen and what better way than with words and games. He bit his lip before starting.
"Look, Irina I would really appreciate it if you would turn around and listen to what I have to say."
She sat rigidly still for a few moments, debating over what to do. If she chose to turn around, she would obviously be leaving herself open for attack but should she choose to continue to look at the opposite wall there was no chance he would believe she truly was indifferent and unaffected by the discussion. Sighing heavily, she swung around, letting her legs hang off the bed and her hands sit dormant at her sides. "What?"
"Good," Jack muttered, more to himself than to her. He took a deep breath and began, "Trying to tell me that I'm right, that you really are here to get to me, to betray us all, is useless. For a few good reasons." He smiled, trying to inject humour into the conversation but Irina's firm scowl not budging; obviously twenty years with only increasingly dark and morbid humour had ruined him.
"Firstly, it's a blatant lie, I can see that, anyone with half a brain could see that. And secondly, you know full well that I see it as my job to disagree with everything and anything you say." Her lips didn't twitch up but Jack didn't miss the slight cocking of her head and a change in composure. "So we'll pretend you ever said any of that."
"Jack, you're being stupid." Her voice was still crisp and sterile but that was a faint shake to it that no one would have noticed unless they were expecting it and he was.
"Maybe," he responded, not ready to argue over arguing, "But I want to say something."
She grinned, smirking at him and shaking her head, "You sound like you're going to propose."
And that was the first sign to her that things were no longer in her control; his back straightened and his eyes slid immediately from hers to everywhere else in the room. He breathed out through his nose, "Will you listen?"
"Make it quick, I want to go back to my cell."
"Hypothetically," he saw her eyes widen, but continued, "what would you want me to do if you told me you loved me?" He was turning this around, he expected her to answer but there wasn't any answer that was safe, not one and to remain silent was suicide, she was about to start gabbling and, if the situation got out of hand, kick him hard and run, but he saved himself from the pain and continued, his words quick and slippery as he tried to not look her in the eye. "I mean...what if I told you...that I loved you?"
A pause, then again he started, not even giving her the chance to answer, "Hypothetically, if I told you, would you be happy, sad, angry, scared? What? Because at the moment, I think I might know the...hypothetical...answer. Irina," saying her name didn't help either of them, "When you reappeared, I wanted you dead." She flinched and despite the fact that this pained him, he was also granted a peek at the idea that perhaps he was right and was not about to make a huge fool out of himself, "I did, I'd compartmentalised for twenty years and I was ready to see you, another enemy of the United States, die. You weren't a person; you were an enemy, a bad guy as our daughter would say."
Irina stared at him, wondering why he was doing this, but she didn't speak. "This feeling didn't last, before I'd even spoken to you, when all I'd seen was you, pacing your little cell without any sound of you, no smell, no taste, I hadn't even been in the same room as you, I found myself unbearably hungry." Even the great and infamous Irina couldn't keep her feelings, her confusion, under wraps at that and Jack was pleased to see her swallowing, her brow creeping lower as nothing seemed to make sense.
"Yeah, stupid I know. And now, even though I am not supposed to and I'm not allowed to and I've told myself I don't. I'm not going to deny it any more. Now there are several very important issues we need to discuss but right now, I just want to make something entirely understandable; completely clear." He paused, not sure how to put it, not sure what he was saying was making any sense or even if she was listening, her face now blank and her eyes phased out and looking down at the ground, away from his, denying him access.
"Irina," he tried to grab her attention back and immediately her eyes were back up, on the same level as his, blown clashing with brown. "In a way," he began carefully, "You're one of the few people that seems to think along with me, you understand me, which I suppose was your job, but you do, surprisingly well and that's unusual." He bit his lip, this wasn't making sense, so he opted to just try to give it to her in one simple sentence. "Irina, hypothetically or not, I want you...I mean, I..."
He would have gone had the phone not rung, but it did and not just hypothetically.
Reviews please, this is also very close to finishing so please make sure that you tell me what you think.