"Jack..." Irina stood at the door of the den.  "I want you to read my diaries."

Irina placed the books on the table in front of him and walked out of the room. When she made it to the kitchen, her body started to shake and she grabbed the door to steady herself.  There were no earth shattering revelations in her journals, no compelling truths to be uncovered within their pages, save one.  With the occasional exception of Sydney's milestones, most of the entries were written while Jack was away on assignment.  He would undoubtedly tire quickly in his reading.  Most of entries were the longings of a lonely woman missing the husband she so desperately loved.  She'd never intended to keep the journals and had destroyed all the early ones.  The risk of discovery by the KGB had been too great, especially in the beginning, when she knew they would do an occasional sweep of their home. The KGB trusted no one.  She took a deep breath and brought her emotions under control.  Spying the burnt sauce, she busied herself with cleaning out the saucepan. 

"If you scrub any harder, there won't be any pan left to clean."

Irina jumped.  "You shouldn't sneak up on a person like that, Jack.  I almost had a heart attack."

"I didn't sneak," Jack told her dryly. "You were concentrating too hard on that pan."

"I think it's ruined, anyway, Jack."  She put the pan on the counter and moved to the stove. "I don't understand what happened. When I moved the pan to the back burner, I put it on the lowest setting."

"I guess you've forgotten. The one back burner on the stove is marked incorrectly. You put it on high instead."

"Jack, I thought you called the store and they were going to excha…" She stopped, seeing the frozen look return.  Then she remembered.  They purchased the stove through the in store catalog service and it was delivered to their home two weeks before her 'death'. She didn't discover the problem with the back burner until the next weekend.  Jack called the store and they set an exchange date for the following Saturday.

"It wasn't high on my list of priorities at the time, Irina."

She winced. "I'm sorry, Jack. I wasn't thinking." She placed the pan on the drain board to dry and turned to rest her back against the counter.  "You haven't read a single page of my diaries, have you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"If you really wanted me to read them, you would have shown them to me when we were married." 

"First, let's get one thing straight. We are [I]still[/I] married.  Second, I didn't show them to you then because they are sappy."

"Sappy?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sappy," she said firmly.  "Why don't you read them and see?" 

Jack moved closer to the counter, his eyes locked with hers.  She felt a shiver of anticipation as his hands circled her waist and pulled her to him.  She leaned in for his kiss and was not disappointed when his lips met hers.  Time seemed frozen as his lips explored hers.  He pulled back and she felt a moment of panic. She looked into his eyes and was reassured.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? I wanted you to kiss me." She traced a finger along his jaw.  The rough bristles of hair tickled against her skin. 

"Not for that. For earlier."

"I should be apologizing to you. Breaking in to that room was probably not wise."

He leaned in and kissed her again. "It needed unlocking. I…" The sound of the doorbell interrupted him.  "Our dinner is here." He smiled apologetically and started to pull away.

She pulled him back, her lips suckling on his lower one. "I just wanted to sample the dessert menu first."

He laughed and moved to deepen the kiss.  The doorbell rang again.  "I better get that or they'll never deliver here again.  Besides, dessert is much better when you can take your time to savor it."

Jack walked to the front door and let the young chef in.  "Hey, Mr. Bristow, you should see what Chef Pierre has for you tonight.  He thought your daughter might like this, …oh…"

"Joe, this is my wife, Irina."

"Hello, ma'am."  Joe said, slightly dazed.  "You're wife?  Wait until I tell Chef! He said you'd never marry again."

"I haven't. It's a long story and not one for tonight."  He led Joe into the kitchen. "So, what special surprise does Pierre have in store for us tonight?"

"It's Duck breasts seared in honeyed nuts and a special sauce.  He thought a 2001 Qupé Chardonnay would be perfect with it"

"Sounds delicious. What's for dessert?" Irina couldn't resist teasing look at Jack and she was rewarded with a small hitch in his breathing. Jack opened the wine and poured out two glasses, handing one to Irina.

"Crème brûlée," he enthused. "My favorite. I love to use the torch."

"Me, too." Irina watched gleefully as Jack spluttered his wine. Joe started to laugh.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," he said, trying to stifle his laughter. "Why don't you have a seat in the dining room and I'll serve the salad."

Irina pulled her chair close to Jack's, sitting just to his left.  Pleasant thoughts on ways to 'torture' her husband made her smile serenely.  Jack saw her expression and swallowed hard. 

She let her tongue slide against her upper lip.  Her hand slipped along the side of his leg, rubbing lightly back and forth.

Jack drew in a deep breath.  "Irina…"

"What is it Jack?" she asked innocently.  "Would you like me to pass you the salt?"

"Yes. With both hands."

"Oh, here, Mr. Bristow, let me get that for you."  Joe came in and placed the salads before them.  "Although, you might want to taste it first.  I've already seasoned them and you wouldn't want to ruin it with too much salt."

"That's right, Jack.  Besides, salt is very bad for your blood pressure. You're already a little flushed."

"She's right, Mr. Bristow.  Are you okay?" Joe asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, Joe. The salad looks delicious."  Jack gave Irina a pointed look.

She laughed.  "I'll keep an eye on his blood pressure, Joe, don't worry."  She watched as Joe went back into the kitchen.  Giving Jack a mischievous glance, she picked up her fork and took a bite of her salad.  Slowly, she pulled the fork from her mouth.  She repeated the process, each time, bringing the fork out more slowly.  Jack was pretending not to notice, but she could see the tension building in his shoulders. 

Joe returned with a small bowl of soup and removed the salads.  She smiled benignly at him, while her hand moved back to her husband's leg.  Fortunately, only one hand was necessary for eating soup.

As Joe walked back into the kitchen, Jack pulled her hand away.  "Irina, stop it." He hissed, his voice a low whisper.  "If you keep it up, I'll come right here and I'd rather be with you, in you, when that happens."

Before she could respond, Joe returned with the main course and they ate in silence.

"Joe, this is wonderful.  You are very talented. I can see why Jack always asks for you when he orders." 

Joe blushed and looked at Jack in surprise.  "You do?  I didn't know that. I'm glad you've enjoyed the meal, Mrs. Bristow. Are you ready for the dessert? The crème brûlée will only take a moment."

"Hmmm.  Yes, I'm ready.  My husband was telling me earlier that he couldn't wait for the dessert."  She patted Jack on the back as he choked on the piece of meat he had just swallowed. "Are you okay, dear?"

"I'm fine, honey.  By all means, Joe, bring on the dessert."

………………………………………..

"Jack, that meal was splendid.  So much better than the spaghetti sauce I had planned." Irina leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 

"Joe is an excellent cook.  I've never been disappointed in anything he's served." The phone rang.  "I better get it.  I've been expecting a call."

"Okay. I'll help Joe get everything packed and put away."

She walked into the kitchen and Joe looked up in surprise.  "Jack has a private call, so I thought I'd lend you a hand."

"Thanks, Mrs. Bristow."

"Call me Irina.  Mrs. Bristow is too formal."

"Irina. I heard you say that you wanted to make a spaghetti sauce for Mr. Bristow."

"It was always one of Jack's favorites."

"But…," he looked confused.

"But what, Joe?"

"He told me a long time ago, I could fix anything I wanted for him, except the marinara sauce."

"I see." She looked at him thoughtfully.  "Did he say why?"

"No, not really." He gave an apologetic look.  "Sorry, I couldn't be of more help."

"It's okay, Joe.  I guess I'll have to ask him."  She picked up one of his totes.  "In the meantime, let's get this loaded for you."  They carried the totes to the van and Joe prepared to leave. 

"He's still on the phone, Joe.  How does he usually take care of the bill?"

"He has an account.  It's all taken care of."

"And the tip?" 

"He's always been more than generous and he already gave it to me."  He turned the key.  "It was a pleasure meeting you, Irina.  Goodnight."

"I'm sure it will be," she said softly as he pulled out of the drive. She walked slowly back into the house and headed into the den.  Her diaries were still on the table where she left them.  She picked one up while she waited. 

"Jack picked up our new bedroom set yesterday.  It's so beautiful.  When I described it to one of the other teachers at school, they warned me that the cherry wood might be too dark. Our room gets so much light, though, that it's absolutely perfect.  I could tell Jack loves it as much as I do. We decided to christen it last night.  Jack opened a bottle of champagne and declared  it "The Sled Bed". Some people might think that's corny, but I loved it. I guess we both had a little too much to drink.  We made love for most of the night and Jack looked pretty tired when he left this morning.  My poor husband.  I'm glad I don't have to work today.

I had the carpenter put in a false top on the dresser and that's where I plan to store you, my keeper of dreams.  The design is so clever; no one would ever guess your hiding place.  I finally feel free to write my deepest thoughts. Will you get bored, my little book, when all my dreams center on Jack?"

"Irina?"  She looked up at him, startled. 

"I didn't hear you come back in, Jack."

"No, I guess not." He took the diary out of her hand and placed it back on the table.  "Must be fascinating reading for you to be that engrossed."

She leaned into him and lightly kissed his lips.  "It was.  I was reading about the night we christened our bed."

He groaned.  "The Sled Bed". I still can't believe you liked that."

"It was perfect, Jack." She ran her fingers through his hair.  "I wish you would let your hair grow a little longer.  I love your curls." 

His hands slipped between them and he started unbuttoning her blouse. "I'm glad you've kept your hair long.  I love your hair.  I love the way you tuck it back behind your ear. Sydney picked that up from you."  He discarded her shirt, kissing her shoulders as his hands reached behind her and unhooked the bra. 

Irina shrugged out of the bra and moved her hands to his belt. Once the buckle was released, she went to work on his pants. Jack's hands busied themselves with the snap of her jeans. She removed his shirt. Finally, clothes shed; they stood naked before each other.  Irina placed her hand on his chest as she lightly traced the hairs down to his belly, only stopping when she reached his pelvis. Her hand slipped underneath his penis and she gently massaged his balls. Her other hand went to his buttock and she pulled him closer to her.  He felt hard against her softness. 

Jack palmed her breasts, his thumbs lightly stroking their tips.  He kissed her neck, then her shoulders.  She moaned as one hand slid between them and found the mound between her legs.  She was ready for him.  More than ready.  There had been too many lonely nights and Panama seemed too distant a memory.  

"Jack, make love to me.  Please."

"Your wish is my command."  He laid her on the couch, his body covering hers.  Eagerly, she guided him inside.  They moved together, in and out, in and out.  His mouth found hers. He kissed, his tongue moving in unison with his body, in and out, in and out.  He picked up the pace as her body urged him on. She gasped as her body shuddered in climax and Jack quickly found his own release.  They lay together, bodies still joined.  Jack started to move away, but she pulled him closer.

"No, Jack.  I want to feel you in me for a little while longer."

"I'm too heavy for you."  She allowed him to turn them so that she lay on top. His breathing evened out and she knew he'd fallen asleep.  She put her head on his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart, before she, too drifted off into sleep.

Sometime later, Jack shifted under her and she woke.  He stared up at her, a happy smile curving his lips.  She loved that smile.  "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. Irina, I have a nice bed upstairs."

"Mmm.  Yes, I saw it earlier.  It's very…masculine."

"It's also very comfortable."

"Really? I'm pretty comfortable right now." She moved slightly and felt his body respond.  "In fact, I'm very comfortable right now."

Jack laughed. "I can tell." He pulled away from her and sat up.  "I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Very well, Jack, we'll go upstairs, but on one condition."

He looked at her warily.  "What would that be?"

"You have to read one of the entries in one of my journals."