Tonight was one of the few nights that Jack Bristow slept soundly. He had
learned though years of training, and life experience, to sleep with one
ear, and one eye open. The alcohol had left his system long hours before,
but he still slept with the peace of intoxication. It may not have been
alcohol, but he was certainly under an influence.
She strode toward him eyes alert, hair pulled back. Her striking eyes always searching, observing. Her graceful movements had always impressed him, seduced him. She wore black, she knew she looked better in green, at least Jack had always told her that. She smiled at him letting her guard down upon seeing his face. The change in her was always remarkable, her soften features and calmness. He had that affect on her, he always had. It was never hard to let her guard down around Jack, keeping it up was another issue.
She has never truly deceived Jack completely. Her easy manner, and laughter in his arms were never fake. In fact, more moments of truth passed between them than moments of deception. She couldn't fake the love in her eyes, or the way her body betrayed her to him. She couldn't pretend to not revel waking in his arms every morning, or watching him play with their daughter. Some things are impossible to hold in pretense.
This was one thing Jack had learned the hard way. It was as if believing that Irina was a fraud every moment of their life together, was easier; and it was. He was wise now to the proposition of her truths. He was finally in a place where he could accept what her eyes could not hide, what her words would not reveal. She had loved him. He hated her for it.
It was the small reading lamp by his bed, being turned on that awoke him. Not even her gentle weight sitting next to him, or her immediate proximity had stirred him. But the lamp, just so happened to tick very loudly when turned. Jack knew the tick well, as did Iirna; lamp had been by his bed for almost thirty years. Oh, the stories it could tell.
His eyes popped open instantly, he dared not to move a muscle. He could now feel her beside him. Their eyes met slowly. She was cautious, reverent, fearful even. She smiled a fleeting and weak half smile, but did not say a word. He sat up carefully, not disturbing the place where she sat. She stared at the old lamp, but her mind was far elsewhere, it was obvious by her expression. Jack watched her for a moment before he spoke.
"Irina what's wrong?" He said calmly, keeping his tone even, his words with only hints of worry. She turned her head to face him. She had a strange bewildered look upon her face. She was clearly not herself; something Jack had never seen, and for that matter, never, ever expected to see.
"Jack." Her voice was barely a whisper, barely recognizable to even herself. She just looked at him. Physically working to hold back the tears. There were very few times in her life that she had been unable to control her body with her mind. Somehow it seemed that each and every time it happened, she was in the presence of Jack Bristow.
"Irina." Jack said again. She couldn't explain the feeling that occurred inside of her, when he said her birth name. Leaning forward slightly he placed a hand on her shoulder. Thoughts were flashing though his head; of Sydney~ Was something wrong, was she in danger?
"Jack I'm sorry." She blurted out, without realizing what was happening. Tears spilled from her eyes without permission. Her unexpected words sending her crashing over the edge.
Jack watched her for a moment as she began to cry. His own eyes filled with wonderment, and confusion.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand." Jack said calmly reaching out with his other hand and wiping a tear from her cheek.
"I'm just sorry Jack." She cried quietly. Her words seemed to betray her faster than she could contain them. She hadn't meant to come her for this. She hadn't meant to come here at all. But for once in her life Irina Derevko had no where to go. But as always, there was only one place she wanted to be.
"Irina." Jack said softly, his tone firming. He took a deep breath and pulled her into his arms. He had no other choice. As sickly twisted as their relationship was, they both still loved one another. Between them there was sort of an unwritten pact. They never talked about it. They never apologized for their action. Never explained.
But for the first time in his life, Jack witness Irina cry. Not tears of physical pain, happiness; anger, or loss. She was crying out for help. The thought almost brought tears to Jack's eyes. There was only one place where either of them could find any peace. They were each other's solace, in a world that had taken everything they had, and then asked for more. They shared a common redemption in their daughter, Sydney. But they shared so much more in the atonement they shared in one another.
She strode toward him eyes alert, hair pulled back. Her striking eyes always searching, observing. Her graceful movements had always impressed him, seduced him. She wore black, she knew she looked better in green, at least Jack had always told her that. She smiled at him letting her guard down upon seeing his face. The change in her was always remarkable, her soften features and calmness. He had that affect on her, he always had. It was never hard to let her guard down around Jack, keeping it up was another issue.
She has never truly deceived Jack completely. Her easy manner, and laughter in his arms were never fake. In fact, more moments of truth passed between them than moments of deception. She couldn't fake the love in her eyes, or the way her body betrayed her to him. She couldn't pretend to not revel waking in his arms every morning, or watching him play with their daughter. Some things are impossible to hold in pretense.
This was one thing Jack had learned the hard way. It was as if believing that Irina was a fraud every moment of their life together, was easier; and it was. He was wise now to the proposition of her truths. He was finally in a place where he could accept what her eyes could not hide, what her words would not reveal. She had loved him. He hated her for it.
It was the small reading lamp by his bed, being turned on that awoke him. Not even her gentle weight sitting next to him, or her immediate proximity had stirred him. But the lamp, just so happened to tick very loudly when turned. Jack knew the tick well, as did Iirna; lamp had been by his bed for almost thirty years. Oh, the stories it could tell.
His eyes popped open instantly, he dared not to move a muscle. He could now feel her beside him. Their eyes met slowly. She was cautious, reverent, fearful even. She smiled a fleeting and weak half smile, but did not say a word. He sat up carefully, not disturbing the place where she sat. She stared at the old lamp, but her mind was far elsewhere, it was obvious by her expression. Jack watched her for a moment before he spoke.
"Irina what's wrong?" He said calmly, keeping his tone even, his words with only hints of worry. She turned her head to face him. She had a strange bewildered look upon her face. She was clearly not herself; something Jack had never seen, and for that matter, never, ever expected to see.
"Jack." Her voice was barely a whisper, barely recognizable to even herself. She just looked at him. Physically working to hold back the tears. There were very few times in her life that she had been unable to control her body with her mind. Somehow it seemed that each and every time it happened, she was in the presence of Jack Bristow.
"Irina." Jack said again. She couldn't explain the feeling that occurred inside of her, when he said her birth name. Leaning forward slightly he placed a hand on her shoulder. Thoughts were flashing though his head; of Sydney~ Was something wrong, was she in danger?
"Jack I'm sorry." She blurted out, without realizing what was happening. Tears spilled from her eyes without permission. Her unexpected words sending her crashing over the edge.
Jack watched her for a moment as she began to cry. His own eyes filled with wonderment, and confusion.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand." Jack said calmly reaching out with his other hand and wiping a tear from her cheek.
"I'm just sorry Jack." She cried quietly. Her words seemed to betray her faster than she could contain them. She hadn't meant to come her for this. She hadn't meant to come here at all. But for once in her life Irina Derevko had no where to go. But as always, there was only one place she wanted to be.
"Irina." Jack said softly, his tone firming. He took a deep breath and pulled her into his arms. He had no other choice. As sickly twisted as their relationship was, they both still loved one another. Between them there was sort of an unwritten pact. They never talked about it. They never apologized for their action. Never explained.
But for the first time in his life, Jack witness Irina cry. Not tears of physical pain, happiness; anger, or loss. She was crying out for help. The thought almost brought tears to Jack's eyes. There was only one place where either of them could find any peace. They were each other's solace, in a world that had taken everything they had, and then asked for more. They shared a common redemption in their daughter, Sydney. But they shared so much more in the atonement they shared in one another.