"Irina..." Jack said in a calm tone of voice as he pointed out, "Do you
really, truly want me to restrain her?"
"Oooh. Can you?" Katya cooed.
Behind him Jack heard Irina grind her teeth. Jack bit his lip and thanked the gods that watched over fools married into a family of international terrorists - and what saint was that? Saint Early Grave? Saint Early Grey Hair? Saint Lucky to Be Alive? Saint Home Repair? - that his wife could not see the amused look on his face.
"Perhaps I have made a tactical error," Katya continued. "Perhaps I should have been the one losing control and stamping my foot and---"
"I did not stamp my foot," Irina gritted out as she tried to wiggle around and find a way to escape. Sometimes... she disliked it when Jack used his greater size and weight to pin her and sometimes...she hid a grin against his shoulder, she liked it. But this, she decided, was not one of those times. She bit his shoulder.
"How was it a tactical error, Katya?" Jack asked, just to aggravate his wife. If he upset her enough, she'd play the knife game later. And that, he sighed, was his favorite, in any variation. "Do tell."
"Because if we are talking about restraint..." Katya reached into her pocket. "I'm always interested and prepared."
Jack raised his eyebrows. "Ah, did you come prepared?"
"I haven't come, prepared or not. Yet." Katya noted, biting her lip in amusement at Irina's hiss of rage. She slowly pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Dangling them from one finger, she nodded at Jack's raised eyebrow.
"You carry cuffs on you?" Jack asked eagerly, then groaned as well for his wife's benefit when she poked him hard between two ribs.
"Of course. I always carry the essentials. Lipstick. Manacles." Katya smiled as she waved them back and forth. "What else does a woman really need in life? Or at least..." Her eyes traveled up and down Jack's long legs and she sighed before continuing, "When it comes to what she can carry in her pockets."
"Anything else in those pockets?" Jack asked with an upward tilt to his lips.
"You don't need to sound so interested in the contents of her pockets," Irina griped, thumping him on the back. Ah, he thought, love pats from his wife. How sweet.
Tossing them in Jack's direction, Katya said, "Here. Consider it a belated wedding present."
"Honey, do you remember registering for these?" Jack asked, holding the cuffs up for her to see.
"No and---"
"Neither do I." Jack looked over his shoulder at Irina and winked as he added, thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, "I thought we registered for the ones with the padded interiors."
"We didn't register for ANY cuffs, Jack! And get that.... that gleam out of your eyes---"
"Well, are you sure about our registry? I mean, I'm not the gravy boat and soup tureen type of guy. And the padded ones make more sense, don't they? I mean I wouldn't want you to get bruised---"
"Who said anything about the woman being the one to wear the cuffs, Jack?" Katya asked.
"True, true. I am being unimaginative." Jack nodded at Katya and tucked the cuffs into his own pockets. A new game tonight, if he had his way. "And possibly sexist. And I really was never sexist, was I, honey? I went with you when you registered for our wedding----"
"Did you register him, Irina?"
"What---" Irina asked.
"Why do you insist on asking these questions?" Jack muttered, rolling his eyes as he waited.
"Truly, you should register him or at least his mouth ---"
"What do you mean by that?!"
"That mouth is a weapon and---"
"And what?"
"And therefore, a potential crime scene, after all."
"Don't take the bait, don't take the bait..." Jack whispered, looking upward.
Irina scowled, "Why, what do you mean---"
"Well, that kiss nearly killed me. But of course, I'd rather wait for the little death, if you know what I mean. And given that you were married to him for five years, I think you do."
"We were not married for five years, we were married for --"
"Five. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Whatever."
"It's not whatever. But then again, you were never good with numbers. That's why I have to have accounting review all of your expenditure reimbursement requests every week. Numbers have never been your strong suit."
"Apparently numbers are not the strong suit of the writers on this show. As they were not mine. I admit it."
"Yes, one of your many failings."
"Perhaps. But speaking of failings, let me remind you that you left a man who looks like..." She licked her lips. "That in a tshirt?"
"Wait." Irina held up her hand. She asked suspiciously, looking back and forth between her husband and sister. "What tshirt?"
Katya smiled slowly. "What other one could it be, but the white, tank---"
"I bought those tshirts for him! I did! For me! For my viewing pleasure. I went to Walmart and stood in line and bought those tshirts with my own money---"
"And women around the world thank you for that purchasing decision. Myself included." Katya sighed happily. "I know I've downloaded that picture of him in that tshirt as a screensaver on my computer. How about you?"
"Oooh. Can you?" Katya cooed.
Behind him Jack heard Irina grind her teeth. Jack bit his lip and thanked the gods that watched over fools married into a family of international terrorists - and what saint was that? Saint Early Grave? Saint Early Grey Hair? Saint Lucky to Be Alive? Saint Home Repair? - that his wife could not see the amused look on his face.
"Perhaps I have made a tactical error," Katya continued. "Perhaps I should have been the one losing control and stamping my foot and---"
"I did not stamp my foot," Irina gritted out as she tried to wiggle around and find a way to escape. Sometimes... she disliked it when Jack used his greater size and weight to pin her and sometimes...she hid a grin against his shoulder, she liked it. But this, she decided, was not one of those times. She bit his shoulder.
"How was it a tactical error, Katya?" Jack asked, just to aggravate his wife. If he upset her enough, she'd play the knife game later. And that, he sighed, was his favorite, in any variation. "Do tell."
"Because if we are talking about restraint..." Katya reached into her pocket. "I'm always interested and prepared."
Jack raised his eyebrows. "Ah, did you come prepared?"
"I haven't come, prepared or not. Yet." Katya noted, biting her lip in amusement at Irina's hiss of rage. She slowly pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Dangling them from one finger, she nodded at Jack's raised eyebrow.
"You carry cuffs on you?" Jack asked eagerly, then groaned as well for his wife's benefit when she poked him hard between two ribs.
"Of course. I always carry the essentials. Lipstick. Manacles." Katya smiled as she waved them back and forth. "What else does a woman really need in life? Or at least..." Her eyes traveled up and down Jack's long legs and she sighed before continuing, "When it comes to what she can carry in her pockets."
"Anything else in those pockets?" Jack asked with an upward tilt to his lips.
"You don't need to sound so interested in the contents of her pockets," Irina griped, thumping him on the back. Ah, he thought, love pats from his wife. How sweet.
Tossing them in Jack's direction, Katya said, "Here. Consider it a belated wedding present."
"Honey, do you remember registering for these?" Jack asked, holding the cuffs up for her to see.
"No and---"
"Neither do I." Jack looked over his shoulder at Irina and winked as he added, thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, "I thought we registered for the ones with the padded interiors."
"We didn't register for ANY cuffs, Jack! And get that.... that gleam out of your eyes---"
"Well, are you sure about our registry? I mean, I'm not the gravy boat and soup tureen type of guy. And the padded ones make more sense, don't they? I mean I wouldn't want you to get bruised---"
"Who said anything about the woman being the one to wear the cuffs, Jack?" Katya asked.
"True, true. I am being unimaginative." Jack nodded at Katya and tucked the cuffs into his own pockets. A new game tonight, if he had his way. "And possibly sexist. And I really was never sexist, was I, honey? I went with you when you registered for our wedding----"
"Did you register him, Irina?"
"What---" Irina asked.
"Why do you insist on asking these questions?" Jack muttered, rolling his eyes as he waited.
"Truly, you should register him or at least his mouth ---"
"What do you mean by that?!"
"That mouth is a weapon and---"
"And what?"
"And therefore, a potential crime scene, after all."
"Don't take the bait, don't take the bait..." Jack whispered, looking upward.
Irina scowled, "Why, what do you mean---"
"Well, that kiss nearly killed me. But of course, I'd rather wait for the little death, if you know what I mean. And given that you were married to him for five years, I think you do."
"We were not married for five years, we were married for --"
"Five. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Whatever."
"It's not whatever. But then again, you were never good with numbers. That's why I have to have accounting review all of your expenditure reimbursement requests every week. Numbers have never been your strong suit."
"Apparently numbers are not the strong suit of the writers on this show. As they were not mine. I admit it."
"Yes, one of your many failings."
"Perhaps. But speaking of failings, let me remind you that you left a man who looks like..." She licked her lips. "That in a tshirt?"
"Wait." Irina held up her hand. She asked suspiciously, looking back and forth between her husband and sister. "What tshirt?"
Katya smiled slowly. "What other one could it be, but the white, tank---"
"I bought those tshirts for him! I did! For me! For my viewing pleasure. I went to Walmart and stood in line and bought those tshirts with my own money---"
"And women around the world thank you for that purchasing decision. Myself included." Katya sighed happily. "I know I've downloaded that picture of him in that tshirt as a screensaver on my computer. How about you?"