Chapter 10

The Countess spun, arm raised.  A soft pffft was heard, and her gun flew from her hand.  "You!" she spat, clutching her injured hand to her chest.  "What the hell are you doing here?"

Irina stepped into the room, her pale face thrown into sharp relief by the head to toe black camo she was now wearing. "Retrieving something that belongs to me," she said grimly.  Her eyes swept the room and settled on her half-naked husband.  Jaw tightening, she examined the Countess more closely, noticing that the robe she wore covered nothing at all.  The skin tautened across her cheeks, becoming almost translucent.

 "Something that belongs to you?" repeated the Countess, slightly bewildered.

"I believe she's referring to me," explained Jack apologetically to the Countess.   "I'm afraid my wife can sometimes be a bit possessive."  He eyed Irina carefully.  "I'd recommend no sudden moves."

"Did you get what you came for?"  Irina demanded in staccato tones, her control stretched paper-thin.  Her hand tightened reflexively on the gun.

"Yes.  Thank you."  Jack raised his hands above his head and stretched the chain between them. A second pffft shattered the chain and he lowered his hands back down.

"Your wife?" The Countess turned to Irina.   "This is your husband?"  Her face twisted into a sneer.  "You're welcome to him.  He's pathetic in bed."

Irina's head snapped back to the Countess and she stared at her for a moment in stunned silence.  "What did you say?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Pathetic.  Has all the sex appeal of a dead fish.  Wouldn't recognize slot B if you drew him a diagram."

Irina shot a hard glance at Jack, who shrugged sheepishly.  The tension slowly drained from her face and her lips began to twitch.  "Really," she drawled.  "Do tell."

"As enlightening as it would be to listen to the two of you discuss my sexual prowess -,"

"Jack, could you come here for a moment?" interjected Irina sweetly. 

Sighing, Jack approached her.  "Kiss me," she commanded, keeping her gun trained on the Countess. 

Jack rolled his eyes, but obediently bent his lips to hers.  The resulting kiss, expertly delivered, left little doubt in anyone's mind about his ability. 

Irina stepped back, face flushed and lips swollen.  "Like that?" she taunted the Countess.

"Take him and get the hell out of here," snarled the Countess, her face now purple.

"Ah, yes," said Irina, her voice now low and menacing.  "Three *is* a crowd, isn't it?"  A knife materialized in her other hand and, with a lightning move, a gash appeared on the Countess's face from ear to chin. 

The Countess screamed.  "My god, my face!  What have you done?" 

"Made sure you don't forget."

Feet pounding up the stairs to the second floor could be heard in response to the Countess' scream.  "I hate to interrupt," said Jack, "since the two of you seem to be getting along so well, but is the way in also a way out?"

Irina nodded.

"Then I think it's time we left," said Jack firmly.

**

Thirty minutes later they paused for breath in a densely wooded area.  Both listened attentively for several minutes, but the only sounds to be heard were those of the forest – branches rustling in the wind, night predators stalking their prey.  Jack sighed in relief.  "Looks like they chose not to follow."

A gleam lit Irina's eye.  "It's possible," she admitted, "that they were too busy."

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing too drastic.  I'm sure if they acted right away they'll have been able to save a portion of the villa."

"You really didn't like her, did you?"

"I don't like to share."

"You were jealous?  Of her?"

"Is that so hard to believe?  She was young - ,"

"Shallow."

"...gorgeous -,"

"Showy."

"...and willing."

Jack paused.  "That was a plus," he acknowledged.  "Two years is a *very* long time."

"I might be willing, under the right conditions."

A muscle jumped in Jack's jaw.  "And those would be?" he asked warily.

"That you wear those glasses, Professor.  And nothing else." 

Blood began to pound in Jack's ears.  Dragging his gaze away from her with difficulty, Jack turned to stare fixedly at a stand of trees in the distance and switched the glasses back on.  "Watchtower to Base." 

"Watchtower, come in," came Vaughn's worried voice.

"Am proceeding to nearest extraction point."  He felt Irina's arms snake around his waist from behind.  "Executing standard evasion protocol. Estimated rendezvous in 4 hours."   He groaned involuntarily as her hands began to wander.  "Do you copy?"

"Watchtower, are you injured?"

Jack closed his eyes as Irina began to lightly stroke him.  "I'll be...fine in a couple of hours," he replied tightly.

"We'll have a medical team standing by, Watchtower.  Take it slow."

"I'll...do my best," Jack gasped.  "Going radio silent now."  He reached up and switched off the glasses transmission, then moved his gaze down to Irina's hands.

Richards stared at the screen, momentarily nonplussed.  His hand hovered over the controls, then decisively punched "STOP".  He leant back in the chair, running his hand over his face.  One day soon he, too, would be a field agent.  And as much as he wanted to see what other moves Jack Bristow had learned that hadn't been part of CIA training...he leant forward and advanced the glasses 3-1/2 hours.

The view that greeted him was…a close-up of fallen leaves.  The glasses, he realized, had been dispensed with sometime over the previous time period.  As, he suspected, had the boxers. He turned up the volume.

"You doped them both, didn't you?  Both the Countess' glasses?"  Irina's head lay pillowed on Jack's chest as he laconically stroked her hair.

Her smile curved into his skin.  "Her butler was kind enough to leave them out for a couple of minutes, along with whatever it was he was lacing yours with."

"Alas, poor Vasek, I knew him well...," Jack murmured.  "And after you worked your magic on the drinks?" His tone was cautious.

Irina tensed under his hand, and he shifted to caressing her neck and back. "I went to the far end of the villa," she replied evenly, "and amused myself by setting explosives."

"Irina –"

"Jack," she interrupted.  "Don't.  I don't want to know what did or didn't happen."  Taking a steadying breath, she turned towards him, eyes both granting and begging for absolution.  "I understand better than most.  You did what you needed to do." 

Jack exhaled slowly and drew his thumb across her cheek.  "Yes."  He lightly traced a pattern on her face.  "It's not easy, that kind of work," he admitted.  "It would be difficult to do that continuously for ten years."  His thumb paused.

"Impossible, I would think.  But I wouldn't know."

Jack nodded, wordless, and drew her into his arms. 

Minutes passed in silence, and Richards double-checked the glasses to make sure they were still functioning.  A soft "beep" punctuated the stillness.

Jack swore softly.  "It's time."  The words sliced through the night air.  "If I miss the pickup Vaughn will have a search party combing the woods."

Irina was silent, her eyes suddenly desolate.

"When will I see you again?"

Irina bit her lip.  "I need to go back, Jack.  There's too much at stake.  It... won't be soon."  She turned in his arms and placed a lingering kiss on his lips.

Jack closed his eyes briefly.  "Be careful," he whispered.  "Do," his voice tightened, "do what you need to do."  He opened his eyes and let her see the absolution there.

"Jack," she said softly.  "It won't be easy for us, not for a long time yet."  She hesitated, then added urgently, "Whatever happens, whatever people try to put between us, remember."  She took a ragged breath.  "Remember that I love you and Sydney more than life itself."

Jack studied her face, her eyes dark pools of regret and longing.  "I know," he said simply.