A/N-As usual, I apologize for the long wait; see, my school owns my laptop,
and they won't let us take them on break, so I was cut off from my computer
for nearly ten days. Also, this isn't as long as I wanted it to be, but
I've got a new story throwing itself madly at my brain, and my teachers
give me more homework than should be legal.
Disclaimer-Unfortunately, I can't create characters. I just steal them and put them in my little world. Consequently, I own nothing.
Reviews-everybody who reviewed last time, YOU ROCK MY WORLD!!!!!!!!! Everybody who didn't, here's your chance! Reviews are better than Christmas presents, or A's on tests, or any of that junk. REVIEW, PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"I had a dream about you," Jack said simply. Noting the quirk of her eyebrow, he quickly amended, "Not THAT kind of dream." He wondered what effect his next words would have. "Basically, you were Satan."
She threw back her head and laughed. How very like him! Even his subconscious was joining in the fight to try to convince him that he hated her. It was the first time that she had laughed in a long time, and it took her a moment to get herself back under control. "I'm sorry, continue please," she said, the smile still lingering about her lips.
It took him a moment to begin; her laugh had been too much like the laugh in his dream for his comfort, but then, what WAS comfortable when Irina got involved in things?
"It was actually more you turning into Satan. I lost hope, but Sydney kept trying to change you back. She managed to get you halfway back to yourself, but you looked at me and said something to the effect of that you could still be saved, but not without my help. But I had tried before, and all that I got was a pair of burned hands. I just couldn't anymore. And you saw.." he realized at this point how involved he had gotten in the story, how pointedly she was watching him, and shook himself a bit. Still, he couldn't stop now. "..and you looked me in the eye, and said, "Coward," in this voice that.." in all five of the languages that he spoke, Jack could find no word to describe her voice just then. "And you just let yourself fall into hell." He finished, and studied her reaction.
She was shaken, though not visibly, by the turn that his dream had taken. It was all so confusing. He believed that she could still be saved, but was unwilling to try? But then, what was this conversation about? If he truly didn't want to find the good side of her again, then why had he come and asked the one question sure to reveal her softer side? This, she realized, was what drew her to Jack Bristow. Everything he said to her was a challenge, not only literally, but also a challenge to her mind.
She chose her words carefully, so that they would not appear cold but not vulnerable either. "So, when you came tonight, you wanted to know if it would have been worth it to try to save me," it was half statement, half question.
It wasn't the question that Jack was expecting, but, then, when did Irina EVER do what he expected her to?
"I suppose that I did," he admitted softly, more to himself than to her. "I don't know why I'm here, really," he said in a voice that was stronger but much less convincing.
A small smile appeared on her lips. Smart as he was, Jack had never learned that there were two people that he simply couldn't lie to, at least not directly: her, and their daughter. Irina smiled a bit more at the thought of her daughter. What would Sydney think if she saw them now?
She turned serious again, but he hadn't failed to notice her previous amusement. He wondered briefly what was going on inside that brain; he still considered her devious, despite her words earlier. He didn't have time to contemplate, however, as she was speaking again.
"And do you think that I can?" Considering simply her words, he would have judged that she had the upper hand at that point. But the sudden flash of emotion in her voice, and the almost open look on her face, threw him off; she was being sincere, and it was uncanny, but wonderful at the same time.
She was kicking herself mentally. She had meant for the words to be a simple question, albeit one that she very much wanted to hear his answer to. But as the words were leaving her mouth, she had suddenly realized what exactly she was saying, that this was, in essence, a plea for forgiveness. She was suddenly aware how desperately she needed him to say yes, and, expert at masking her feelings though she may have been, some hint of that desperation had leaked into her tone and into her face.
Jack was overwhelmed completely by the many implications of her question. It had been one that he had sworn to himself deserved a 'no' answer so many times; he had told himself, her, and, well, anyone who cared, that he didn't feel that she could be forgiven. Yet, seeing the expression on her face, noting the aura of something resembling hope surrounding her, threw off his resolve. She looked so much like Laura at that moment, which should have only reminded him of the pain that she had caused. Instead, however, it convinced him that this side of her really did exist. He knew that face so well, knew every nuance, knew exactly what changed and how when she smiled. It had hurt so much to think that face, and the person behind it had never existed. But maybe they had, if in a somewhat different form. Had he been too blind to see that she had been the same woman all along? Was there a chance that all of the wrongs that Irina had done came from the same person who had done so much good as Laura? Did the distinction that he had been making between the two in his mind not really exist at all?
"I still love you," he spoke the words without even realizing it. Her jaw dropped, and, noticing her reaction, he suddenly realized what he had just done. His eyes widened, and he almost tried to deny it, but he realized that nothing he said would sound convincing except the truth. "I tried to deny it for a long time, ever since you got here, and even before that. I told myself that you had never felt anything for me, that you had endured my love only because you had to. I told myself that, the first chance you got you would betray us all, me, Sydney, the CIA. I told myself that your only motives were to manipulate and twist to get what you wanted. But nothing worked." He was losing all control now, but he didn't care. He had started this, and he was going to finish it if it killed him. "In Kashmir, when we were in prison and you pressed the keys into my hand, something cracked. When you didn't just run, when you turned yourself back in, I couldn't just hate you anymore. I knew that you weren't all of the things that I had told myself that you were. I didn't know what to think, and that scared me. Your betrayal had hurt me so badly..I knew that I couldn't survive that again. Which is true; I can't. And if you are playing with my emotions now, I want you to have fair warning: it would kill me, just as surely and completely as a bullet in the heart."
A/N-More as soon as possible, hopefully.
Disclaimer-Unfortunately, I can't create characters. I just steal them and put them in my little world. Consequently, I own nothing.
Reviews-everybody who reviewed last time, YOU ROCK MY WORLD!!!!!!!!! Everybody who didn't, here's your chance! Reviews are better than Christmas presents, or A's on tests, or any of that junk. REVIEW, PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"I had a dream about you," Jack said simply. Noting the quirk of her eyebrow, he quickly amended, "Not THAT kind of dream." He wondered what effect his next words would have. "Basically, you were Satan."
She threw back her head and laughed. How very like him! Even his subconscious was joining in the fight to try to convince him that he hated her. It was the first time that she had laughed in a long time, and it took her a moment to get herself back under control. "I'm sorry, continue please," she said, the smile still lingering about her lips.
It took him a moment to begin; her laugh had been too much like the laugh in his dream for his comfort, but then, what WAS comfortable when Irina got involved in things?
"It was actually more you turning into Satan. I lost hope, but Sydney kept trying to change you back. She managed to get you halfway back to yourself, but you looked at me and said something to the effect of that you could still be saved, but not without my help. But I had tried before, and all that I got was a pair of burned hands. I just couldn't anymore. And you saw.." he realized at this point how involved he had gotten in the story, how pointedly she was watching him, and shook himself a bit. Still, he couldn't stop now. "..and you looked me in the eye, and said, "Coward," in this voice that.." in all five of the languages that he spoke, Jack could find no word to describe her voice just then. "And you just let yourself fall into hell." He finished, and studied her reaction.
She was shaken, though not visibly, by the turn that his dream had taken. It was all so confusing. He believed that she could still be saved, but was unwilling to try? But then, what was this conversation about? If he truly didn't want to find the good side of her again, then why had he come and asked the one question sure to reveal her softer side? This, she realized, was what drew her to Jack Bristow. Everything he said to her was a challenge, not only literally, but also a challenge to her mind.
She chose her words carefully, so that they would not appear cold but not vulnerable either. "So, when you came tonight, you wanted to know if it would have been worth it to try to save me," it was half statement, half question.
It wasn't the question that Jack was expecting, but, then, when did Irina EVER do what he expected her to?
"I suppose that I did," he admitted softly, more to himself than to her. "I don't know why I'm here, really," he said in a voice that was stronger but much less convincing.
A small smile appeared on her lips. Smart as he was, Jack had never learned that there were two people that he simply couldn't lie to, at least not directly: her, and their daughter. Irina smiled a bit more at the thought of her daughter. What would Sydney think if she saw them now?
She turned serious again, but he hadn't failed to notice her previous amusement. He wondered briefly what was going on inside that brain; he still considered her devious, despite her words earlier. He didn't have time to contemplate, however, as she was speaking again.
"And do you think that I can?" Considering simply her words, he would have judged that she had the upper hand at that point. But the sudden flash of emotion in her voice, and the almost open look on her face, threw him off; she was being sincere, and it was uncanny, but wonderful at the same time.
She was kicking herself mentally. She had meant for the words to be a simple question, albeit one that she very much wanted to hear his answer to. But as the words were leaving her mouth, she had suddenly realized what exactly she was saying, that this was, in essence, a plea for forgiveness. She was suddenly aware how desperately she needed him to say yes, and, expert at masking her feelings though she may have been, some hint of that desperation had leaked into her tone and into her face.
Jack was overwhelmed completely by the many implications of her question. It had been one that he had sworn to himself deserved a 'no' answer so many times; he had told himself, her, and, well, anyone who cared, that he didn't feel that she could be forgiven. Yet, seeing the expression on her face, noting the aura of something resembling hope surrounding her, threw off his resolve. She looked so much like Laura at that moment, which should have only reminded him of the pain that she had caused. Instead, however, it convinced him that this side of her really did exist. He knew that face so well, knew every nuance, knew exactly what changed and how when she smiled. It had hurt so much to think that face, and the person behind it had never existed. But maybe they had, if in a somewhat different form. Had he been too blind to see that she had been the same woman all along? Was there a chance that all of the wrongs that Irina had done came from the same person who had done so much good as Laura? Did the distinction that he had been making between the two in his mind not really exist at all?
"I still love you," he spoke the words without even realizing it. Her jaw dropped, and, noticing her reaction, he suddenly realized what he had just done. His eyes widened, and he almost tried to deny it, but he realized that nothing he said would sound convincing except the truth. "I tried to deny it for a long time, ever since you got here, and even before that. I told myself that you had never felt anything for me, that you had endured my love only because you had to. I told myself that, the first chance you got you would betray us all, me, Sydney, the CIA. I told myself that your only motives were to manipulate and twist to get what you wanted. But nothing worked." He was losing all control now, but he didn't care. He had started this, and he was going to finish it if it killed him. "In Kashmir, when we were in prison and you pressed the keys into my hand, something cracked. When you didn't just run, when you turned yourself back in, I couldn't just hate you anymore. I knew that you weren't all of the things that I had told myself that you were. I didn't know what to think, and that scared me. Your betrayal had hurt me so badly..I knew that I couldn't survive that again. Which is true; I can't. And if you are playing with my emotions now, I want you to have fair warning: it would kill me, just as surely and completely as a bullet in the heart."
A/N-More as soon as possible, hopefully.
