I Know You Love Him
Chapter Two: Love and Desire
"You are certain of this now, Irina."
"Yes."
"You realize this is your final chance to back out. After this, you reach a point of no return. Should you abandon you mission, I cannot predict what will happen, but I know it will not be pleasant." Punishment from the KGB. Fom Russia itself. That was what Khasinau meant.
"I understand." Your face was stone. I could only hope mine displayed the same lack of emotion, as I looked on you for what could be the last time. The thought occurred to me that after this, I was going to need a really big distraction. I wondered idly what it would feel like to get really drunk.
"Good." Khasinau smiled and put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed reassuringly as he gave you the final assignment file. I read the name of your target in the infinitesimal flutter of your eyelids, and the slight thinning of your lips. "I know you can do this, Irina. I cannot say that I am glad to see you leave us, but I could not put this assignment in more capable hands." "Thank you, sir." You shook his hand, and then, in a seemingly impulsive gesture, you embraced him, gave him an intimate, lingering kiss on the cheek. "I'll miss you . I'll miss it here too." You had invaded his suave, smug demeanor, broken his composure with the surprise of your touch, if only for the briefest of instants. He cleared his throat as his face resumed its usual expression of serenity and control. "Well," he nodded, "I will give you two a moment." We smiled at each other, both amused that you had gotten to him. If you could unsettle Khasinau that quickly, poor Mr. Bristow wouldn't stand a chance. But the smiles quickly faded and - well, my memory blurs at this point. The next thing I clearly remember is your absence, and Khasinau beside me again as I struggled to contain my emotions. He squeezed my shoulder then, much the way he had yours. He put his lips close to my ear, and murmured softly, "I know it is hard. But you should be very proud of your sister." I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat and breathing a grim sigh of satisfaction as I mastered myself. Still, he did not let go. I stiffened as his index finger grazed my neck. "You should not be alone tonight. Come, have some dinner with me, and together we will pretend to forget she is gone." I turned my head so I look him directly in the eyes - those cool, calculating gray eyes, ones that were now surveying me with a more-than- cursory interest. Physically, he was very attractive to me. But that did not make my words to him any more difficult. "I see how it is now. You cannot have the sister you want, so you will settle for the other. I will not be your substitute for Irina." He laughed softly, took his hand off me. "You never could be. For one thing, you are far too forward. Your sister is a subtler little witch. In contrast, you are almost . refreshing." He drew closer to me, too aware, I think, that I found him desirable. "Besides, no one could replace your sister. Just as no one could replace you. No," he protested as I backed away, rolling my eyes. "This is not a man's shallow flattery. Surely you know that, while she has many qualities you do not, the reverse is also true. In all honesty, Katya, I find you as attractive as your dear sister - simply in a different way." I looked at him doubtfully, hoping I didn't show any sign of surprise or pleasure at his statements. He smiled to see my hesitation. "Another thing that is different about you, my dear. You are more deliberate, more cautious. I have always found this curious. I would've assumed that Irina possessed the greater measure of wisdom, having more slightly experience than you, but ." He paused, pleased that he had coaxed a small smile onto my face. "I am asking you to come to dinner, you know. Not into my bed." At least not necessarily, I thought. "Just dinner. I care for your sister, and wish to commiserate her absence with someone who can empathize. Is that so much to ask?" I kept my voice carefully neutral as I replied: "I supposed not." He smiled his disarming smile once again as he offered his arm. I took it, and felt my pulse quicken. Mentally, I shrugged to myself. Why the hell not? On my third glass of wine, Khasinau made a suggestion. But it was not the one I had expected. "We are developing a code to communicate orders to agents like Irina, those who are under deep cover. She has told me that you are skilled with language, encryption, that you enjoy manipulating communications. Given your forthright attitude, I find this surprising." He furrowed his brow in mock confusion, and I, always more inclined to find things amusing after my third drink, let out a laugh. "I thought you might enjoy working on this project. With me. Ultimately, you would 'write' our communiqués to your sister. What do you say, my dear?" He paused to let his words sink in."Really?" I suppressed a hiccup. "Why are you even asking? Of course I'll do it! As long as I can still have some missions in the field," I added hastily. After all, field ops were the most exciting, and I could already hear you, Irina, chastising me for losing my edge while you were gone. Khasinau nodded, looking pleased with himself. "Of course. Well, I knew you would like that. If your work is good enough, you might even be able to sneak in a few personal messages - though I doubt you would ever presume to abuse the system so." Again, I blamed my laughter on the wine. Where I place the blame for what happened next is an entirely different matter. Suddenly, he had was out of his chair, putting his hand on my shoulder again, and then resting it lightly, teasingly, on my neck. "I am glad that this pleases you, Katya. I would like to please you." And before another thought could cross my wine-soaked brain, he was kissing me, softly at first, then more insistently, practically lifting me out of my seat as he took me in his arms, and drew me very close to him. As I felt myself responding, felt my arms slip around his neck, I also felt myself let go of my remaining pride. I wanted this. I wanted him. I knew then, as I have always known, that there is a fundamental difference between love and desire, no matter how much we try to make them out to be the same thing. I was fully aware of which of these two things I felt for Khasinau. So, exhilarated as I was by his touch, I had no illusions, and was unafraid. Love and desire. I suppose they can occur simultaneously, but they never have for me. Tell me, my sister, what does it feel like when this happens? What was it like for you?
Chapter Two: Love and Desire
"You are certain of this now, Irina."
"Yes."
"You realize this is your final chance to back out. After this, you reach a point of no return. Should you abandon you mission, I cannot predict what will happen, but I know it will not be pleasant." Punishment from the KGB. Fom Russia itself. That was what Khasinau meant.
"I understand." Your face was stone. I could only hope mine displayed the same lack of emotion, as I looked on you for what could be the last time. The thought occurred to me that after this, I was going to need a really big distraction. I wondered idly what it would feel like to get really drunk.
"Good." Khasinau smiled and put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed reassuringly as he gave you the final assignment file. I read the name of your target in the infinitesimal flutter of your eyelids, and the slight thinning of your lips. "I know you can do this, Irina. I cannot say that I am glad to see you leave us, but I could not put this assignment in more capable hands." "Thank you, sir." You shook his hand, and then, in a seemingly impulsive gesture, you embraced him, gave him an intimate, lingering kiss on the cheek. "I'll miss you . I'll miss it here too." You had invaded his suave, smug demeanor, broken his composure with the surprise of your touch, if only for the briefest of instants. He cleared his throat as his face resumed its usual expression of serenity and control. "Well," he nodded, "I will give you two a moment." We smiled at each other, both amused that you had gotten to him. If you could unsettle Khasinau that quickly, poor Mr. Bristow wouldn't stand a chance. But the smiles quickly faded and - well, my memory blurs at this point. The next thing I clearly remember is your absence, and Khasinau beside me again as I struggled to contain my emotions. He squeezed my shoulder then, much the way he had yours. He put his lips close to my ear, and murmured softly, "I know it is hard. But you should be very proud of your sister." I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat and breathing a grim sigh of satisfaction as I mastered myself. Still, he did not let go. I stiffened as his index finger grazed my neck. "You should not be alone tonight. Come, have some dinner with me, and together we will pretend to forget she is gone." I turned my head so I look him directly in the eyes - those cool, calculating gray eyes, ones that were now surveying me with a more-than- cursory interest. Physically, he was very attractive to me. But that did not make my words to him any more difficult. "I see how it is now. You cannot have the sister you want, so you will settle for the other. I will not be your substitute for Irina." He laughed softly, took his hand off me. "You never could be. For one thing, you are far too forward. Your sister is a subtler little witch. In contrast, you are almost . refreshing." He drew closer to me, too aware, I think, that I found him desirable. "Besides, no one could replace your sister. Just as no one could replace you. No," he protested as I backed away, rolling my eyes. "This is not a man's shallow flattery. Surely you know that, while she has many qualities you do not, the reverse is also true. In all honesty, Katya, I find you as attractive as your dear sister - simply in a different way." I looked at him doubtfully, hoping I didn't show any sign of surprise or pleasure at his statements. He smiled to see my hesitation. "Another thing that is different about you, my dear. You are more deliberate, more cautious. I have always found this curious. I would've assumed that Irina possessed the greater measure of wisdom, having more slightly experience than you, but ." He paused, pleased that he had coaxed a small smile onto my face. "I am asking you to come to dinner, you know. Not into my bed." At least not necessarily, I thought. "Just dinner. I care for your sister, and wish to commiserate her absence with someone who can empathize. Is that so much to ask?" I kept my voice carefully neutral as I replied: "I supposed not." He smiled his disarming smile once again as he offered his arm. I took it, and felt my pulse quicken. Mentally, I shrugged to myself. Why the hell not? On my third glass of wine, Khasinau made a suggestion. But it was not the one I had expected. "We are developing a code to communicate orders to agents like Irina, those who are under deep cover. She has told me that you are skilled with language, encryption, that you enjoy manipulating communications. Given your forthright attitude, I find this surprising." He furrowed his brow in mock confusion, and I, always more inclined to find things amusing after my third drink, let out a laugh. "I thought you might enjoy working on this project. With me. Ultimately, you would 'write' our communiqués to your sister. What do you say, my dear?" He paused to let his words sink in."Really?" I suppressed a hiccup. "Why are you even asking? Of course I'll do it! As long as I can still have some missions in the field," I added hastily. After all, field ops were the most exciting, and I could already hear you, Irina, chastising me for losing my edge while you were gone. Khasinau nodded, looking pleased with himself. "Of course. Well, I knew you would like that. If your work is good enough, you might even be able to sneak in a few personal messages - though I doubt you would ever presume to abuse the system so." Again, I blamed my laughter on the wine. Where I place the blame for what happened next is an entirely different matter. Suddenly, he had was out of his chair, putting his hand on my shoulder again, and then resting it lightly, teasingly, on my neck. "I am glad that this pleases you, Katya. I would like to please you." And before another thought could cross my wine-soaked brain, he was kissing me, softly at first, then more insistently, practically lifting me out of my seat as he took me in his arms, and drew me very close to him. As I felt myself responding, felt my arms slip around his neck, I also felt myself let go of my remaining pride. I wanted this. I wanted him. I knew then, as I have always known, that there is a fundamental difference between love and desire, no matter how much we try to make them out to be the same thing. I was fully aware of which of these two things I felt for Khasinau. So, exhilarated as I was by his touch, I had no illusions, and was unafraid. Love and desire. I suppose they can occur simultaneously, but they never have for me. Tell me, my sister, what does it feel like when this happens? What was it like for you?