The Dangers Of Boredom, ch 3
A/N: Well would you look at that? I've finally managed to crank out another chapter. I'm getting better at this. Sorry for the massive delay in updating but at least I didn't take as long between now and the last update as I took between the first and second chapters. I've been busy, though. School's over, so I've been trying to find a job, making fun of my sister who's still in school, sunning myself by the pool, catching up on All My Children and basically just adjusting to my newfound freedom. Plus I saw Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, an excellent movie well worth your time and money, and then turned nineteen on June 5th. So Happy Birthday to me!
A/N2: This chapter is mainly for my amusement and so is pretty much just banter. And when you see a little asterisk () it means that the English translation is at the bottom. If you read the first chapter, which I encourage you to do if you haven't already, then you know about me and my multilingual cussing habit.
Disclaimer: I do not own Alias. If I owned Alias there would be a new episode every day, Michael Vartan and David Anders would always be topless and in every episode Lauren Reed would die a horrible painful death a la Kenny from South Park, (another show I don't own) my favorite method of which involves her turning a sort of grayish-green and sprouting rutabagas from all of her orifices. Sigh those are the good daydreams.
Distribution. Every true Buffy fan will remember this line: "Want. Take. Have." The only part I'm adding in is that you please ask first.
The Dangers of Boredom ch 3
Jack: What the hell are you doing here?
Irina (standing around cooking breakfast like nothing's amiss): Good morning Jack. Breakfast?
Jack: If by 'breakfast' you mean 'explanation of what in the name of hell am I doing here' then by all means. Breakfast away.
Irina: Good to see you to. Hope you're hungry. (She takes a good look at him and frowns.) If I may ask what on earth are you wearing?
Jack (who never changed out of his salsa dancing outfit): I was out last night. Some colleagues and I went dancing.
Irina: You look a tad on the ridiculous side.
Jack (miffed): Well whether I do or not you don't get to comment on it. Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn't turn you over to Dixon.
Irina proceeds to lift up her shirt and flash him.
Jack: That's two damn fine reasons.
Irina: Why thank you. Now, how about breakfast?
Jack: Don't mind if I do.
They eat and make small talk for a while and then fall silent for a few moments.
Irina: When are you going to work?
Jack: Pretty soon, actually. You better lay low until I get back from work. Wouldn't want you to disappear now that–
Irina: Wouldn't want me to 'disappear?' Jack, you thought I was missing for over twenty years. Been there. Done that. Bought the t-shirt. Might want to rethink that statement.
Jack (a bit miffed): Well you don't have to get snarky about it.
Irina (lifting up her over shirt to reveal a second, tighter shirt): No really. I actually have a t-shirt that says "I've been missing for over twenty years, so give me a cookie.' It happens to be my favorite t-shirt. Fits me like a second skin. Really shows off my figure, don't you think? Although, to be fair, I didn't actually buy it.
Jack: So on top of the whole 'I'm-in-the-business-of-blackmail,-extortion- and murder' you also add clothing thievery to the list? You must have one hell of a business card layout.
Irina (muttering to herself): I'm beginning to remember why I went missing for those twenty years. (To Jack) As a matter of fact, smartass, it was a gift from a friend.
Jack: You have friends?
Irina (sounding a tad desperate): 'Partners in crime?'
Jack: Yeah right.
Irina (even more desperate): 'Subordinates in crime?'
Jack: Fess up. It won't kill you.
Irina (defeated): 'People who I boss around in relation to the performing of crimes?' Jack: That's more like it. Might want to shorten it though. Come up with a catchy nickname.
Irina: Well, whatever but for the purposes of this conversation, not to mention my own sanity, I'm just going to call him my friend.
Jack: 'Him?' Anyone I might know?
Irina: You probably do. It was a gag gift from Julian. For some reason he thought it was hilarious.
Jack. 'Julian?' Doesn't ring a bell.
Irina: Surname sounds like 'lark.'
Jack: Park? Mark? Hark? Bark? Dark? Fark?
Irina: Fark isn't even a word. It's Sark, you idiot!
Jack: You're friends with Sark?
Irina: And this is surprising to you because...?
Jack: Nothing. Just can't picture you and Mr. 'I-Have-To-Have-Everything-My- Way-I-Always -Wear-Armani-Suits-Couldn't-Crack-A-Smile-To-Save-My-Life' as friends.
Irina: You know he's just going by 'Mr. Sark' now.
Jack: Why? Has he undergone any major surgery on his personality lately?
Irina: No, he just tried to fit that on his business card and it didn't really pan out so he thought it might be time to change it. I for one think it's a good change. He was originally going to go with Mr. Salvador Domingo Theodore Velasco Edward Michael Hollingsworth, but with a little persuasion on my part I managed to talk him into 'Julian Sark.' Do you like it?
Jack: The only thing I have ever admired about that man is his aim with a gun. Hits his target nine times out of ten.
Irina (sounding a little proud of herself): I taught him how to shoot you know.
Jack: Did you? You must be very proud of yourself, training an assassin.
Irina: I'm proud of his marksmanship, courtesy of me. At least I never taught him the finer arts of torturing. (Sounding a little confused) He went to a specialist for that. There was this one method that he was really fond of a while back that involved hog-tying your victim, covering him in honey and then leaving him outside an ant hill, but for some unknown reason he would only use that method on men and only on certain parts of their anatomy. Never did understand why.
Jack: Sounds direct and to the point.
Irina: "Well that may be true but there are way more interesting ways to kill a girl than a guy."
Jack: "And why might that be?"
Irina: "You're kidding right?"
Jack: "Oh yeah."
Irina: "My favorite one actually involves a crowbar soaked with napalm. I've always wanted to try that method out on Sloane but alas, he got the sex change operation and the chance went out the window. "Sigh
Jack: You're life is nothing but one tragedy after another.
Irina: I was thinking of writing it all down and turning it into a soap opera.
Jack: Maybe good for a hobby but there's better money in weapons. Or truffles if you can get your hands on them.
Irina: I actually thought of that already but you have to have these huge- ass hogs or boars or whatever to find them and I–
Jack: You what?
Irina: I have pig fear.
Jack: You're kidding right?
Irina: Don't laugh
Jack: Wasn't going to say a word.
Irina: Good man.
Jack: But wait, I've seen you eat bacon and ham and other pork products.
Irina: 'It's all well and good if it comes pre-packaged.' That's my motto.
Jack: Last time I checked your motto was a little more vulgar than that. In fact if I remember correctly it was 'Ma andi mandir biha. Or my personal favorite: 'Life is like a penis. When it gets hard, fuck it.' I believe there were a few more but I'm not going to repeat them.
Irina: That's so sweet of you.
Jack: That I'm not going to repeat them?
Irina: No. That you remembered after all this time. I'm touched.
Jack: You're touched in the head.
Irina: And once again the steamroller that is your personality rears its ugly head and paves right over our little trip down memory lane.
Jack: Sorry. Guess you'll have to take the detour.
Irina: You're impossible.
Jack: Impossibly charming, handsome, the list goes on and on.
Irina: You do realize that you're proving my case for me? If we were lawyers on opposing sides of a case, I would just sit back, relax and let you do all the talking.
Jack (Wistfully): A course of action which I hope you'll be employing some time soon?
Irina: Not likely.
Jack: Didn't think so. I won fifty bucks off a lottery ticket on Monday so I figure my luck for this week is spent.
Irina (Surprised): You play the lottery?
Jack: Every week. Why?
Irina: No reason. You just don't seem the lottery type.
Jack: Exactly what is the 'lottery type'?
Irina: Oh you know. Mid to late forties, not too wealthy and– wait.
Jack: What?
Irina: Something just occurred to me. How on earth did we go from discussing methods of killing to talking about the type of people who play lottery?
Jack: Not sure about that but I am sure that it's somehow all your fault.
Irina: Skut
Jack: It just takes a special type of whacked to follow our train of thought. Also doesn't hurt to have experience with the CIA.
Irina: It does help.
Jack: Are we ever going to get around to talking about why you've suddenly decided to drop by?
Irina: Knowing us? Eventually.
Jack: Eventually?
Irina: Eventually.
Jack: Eventually as in soon-eventually?
Irina: Patience is a virtue.
Jack: And unfortunately not one I possess.
Irina: Oh all right. I'm here to check up on Sydney. She left the country yesterday and I don't know why.
Jack: You mean there's actually something that you don't know about? I'm shocked! I've never known you not to have someone on the inside feeding you information.
Irina (indignant): Jack don't be a tete de bite. Of course I have someone on the inside but his wife chose yesterday to have her baby and he had to rush off leaving me in the dark.
Jack: Well if you must know she and Vaughn went down to Tahiti for some rest and relaxation.
Irina: I assume Mrs. Reed is no longer in the picture.
Jack: Well if she is still in the picture, which I seriously doubt, then she's on the floor in the form of a puddle of goo.
Irina: Do I want to know?
Jack: Probably not.
Irina: I wish I could have seen that. She and her mother always got on my nerves. Prissy bitches that they were.
Jack: How did you know them?
Irina: Every time there was a Covenant mixer I'd see the two of them. Never could hold their alcohol though. Lauren threw up on my Manolo Blahniks one time. Nearly offed her with an Uzi that I just happened to have on my person at the time but at that exact moment I was called up on stage to receive my award for being named Terrorist of the Month. By the time I remembered she was gone.
Jack: So Lauren and Mrs. Reed were Covenant? Huh, go figure. I wish we had known that yesterday, then our little fondue experiment could have been written off on our taxes for interrogation purposes. As it was Dixon had to use all the cheese in the building including a wedge of Brie that I had in the fridge in the lounge. I really was looking forward to that cheese.
Irina: Well look on the bright side. Now you can do the same thing to Mrs. Reed that you did to her daughter and since the CIA will cover all expenses this time, you won't have to give up your cheese.
Jack: I do like the sound of that.
Irina: I just wish that I could see it. I really hated both of them.
Jack: Tell you what. Put on a wig and some dark sunglasses and I'll sneak you in to the building and you can watch from the control room monitor. I'll turn up the volume so you can fully appreciate the screaming.
Irina: Sounds great to me. Let's go.
They both get ready and meet up by the door on their way out. As he grabs his keys from the hook he remembers something.
Jack: I just have one question for you.
Irina: What might that be?
Jack: Did the movie Babe give you nightmares? (Irina smacks him upside the head, hard.) Ow!
Irina: You do realize that you have a hangover?
Jack: No shit, Sherlock! And if I didn't before your little love tap certainly reminded me. So what?
Irina: So I'll be the one driving the car, for safety reasons, you understand. She grabs the keys.
Jack (Horrified): Oh. Shit.
Irina: That's exactly right. Probably not a good idea to piss me off.
Jack (Mumbling): Well I lived a good life.
Irina: What was that?
Jack (Louder): I'm so glad you're my wife.
Irina: I thought so.
Jack (Whispering): Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name...
A/N: My therapist tells me that when I get stressed out or unhappy I should go to my happy place. You want to know what my happy place is? Of course you do you're wonderful people. My happy place is a land where everyone owns some type of Jeeps and are therefore smart people, so I won't have to worry about dealing with idiots; there are very hot shirtless guys all over everywhere, all of them very funny and don't smoke or do drugs; and the thing that makes me happiest of all? Reviews. Reviews. Reviews! So please people. Keep me in my happy place. You only have to worry about providing me with one out of three.
Translations:
Ma andi mandir biha is Arabic for "I don't give a shit"
Skut is Arabic for "Shut the fuck up"
Tete de bite is French for "Dickhead"
A/N: Well would you look at that? I've finally managed to crank out another chapter. I'm getting better at this. Sorry for the massive delay in updating but at least I didn't take as long between now and the last update as I took between the first and second chapters. I've been busy, though. School's over, so I've been trying to find a job, making fun of my sister who's still in school, sunning myself by the pool, catching up on All My Children and basically just adjusting to my newfound freedom. Plus I saw Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, an excellent movie well worth your time and money, and then turned nineteen on June 5th. So Happy Birthday to me!
A/N2: This chapter is mainly for my amusement and so is pretty much just banter. And when you see a little asterisk () it means that the English translation is at the bottom. If you read the first chapter, which I encourage you to do if you haven't already, then you know about me and my multilingual cussing habit.
Disclaimer: I do not own Alias. If I owned Alias there would be a new episode every day, Michael Vartan and David Anders would always be topless and in every episode Lauren Reed would die a horrible painful death a la Kenny from South Park, (another show I don't own) my favorite method of which involves her turning a sort of grayish-green and sprouting rutabagas from all of her orifices. Sigh those are the good daydreams.
Distribution. Every true Buffy fan will remember this line: "Want. Take. Have." The only part I'm adding in is that you please ask first.
The Dangers of Boredom ch 3
Jack: What the hell are you doing here?
Irina (standing around cooking breakfast like nothing's amiss): Good morning Jack. Breakfast?
Jack: If by 'breakfast' you mean 'explanation of what in the name of hell am I doing here' then by all means. Breakfast away.
Irina: Good to see you to. Hope you're hungry. (She takes a good look at him and frowns.) If I may ask what on earth are you wearing?
Jack (who never changed out of his salsa dancing outfit): I was out last night. Some colleagues and I went dancing.
Irina: You look a tad on the ridiculous side.
Jack (miffed): Well whether I do or not you don't get to comment on it. Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn't turn you over to Dixon.
Irina proceeds to lift up her shirt and flash him.
Jack: That's two damn fine reasons.
Irina: Why thank you. Now, how about breakfast?
Jack: Don't mind if I do.
They eat and make small talk for a while and then fall silent for a few moments.
Irina: When are you going to work?
Jack: Pretty soon, actually. You better lay low until I get back from work. Wouldn't want you to disappear now that–
Irina: Wouldn't want me to 'disappear?' Jack, you thought I was missing for over twenty years. Been there. Done that. Bought the t-shirt. Might want to rethink that statement.
Jack (a bit miffed): Well you don't have to get snarky about it.
Irina (lifting up her over shirt to reveal a second, tighter shirt): No really. I actually have a t-shirt that says "I've been missing for over twenty years, so give me a cookie.' It happens to be my favorite t-shirt. Fits me like a second skin. Really shows off my figure, don't you think? Although, to be fair, I didn't actually buy it.
Jack: So on top of the whole 'I'm-in-the-business-of-blackmail,-extortion- and murder' you also add clothing thievery to the list? You must have one hell of a business card layout.
Irina (muttering to herself): I'm beginning to remember why I went missing for those twenty years. (To Jack) As a matter of fact, smartass, it was a gift from a friend.
Jack: You have friends?
Irina (sounding a tad desperate): 'Partners in crime?'
Jack: Yeah right.
Irina (even more desperate): 'Subordinates in crime?'
Jack: Fess up. It won't kill you.
Irina (defeated): 'People who I boss around in relation to the performing of crimes?' Jack: That's more like it. Might want to shorten it though. Come up with a catchy nickname.
Irina: Well, whatever but for the purposes of this conversation, not to mention my own sanity, I'm just going to call him my friend.
Jack: 'Him?' Anyone I might know?
Irina: You probably do. It was a gag gift from Julian. For some reason he thought it was hilarious.
Jack. 'Julian?' Doesn't ring a bell.
Irina: Surname sounds like 'lark.'
Jack: Park? Mark? Hark? Bark? Dark? Fark?
Irina: Fark isn't even a word. It's Sark, you idiot!
Jack: You're friends with Sark?
Irina: And this is surprising to you because...?
Jack: Nothing. Just can't picture you and Mr. 'I-Have-To-Have-Everything-My- Way-I-Always -Wear-Armani-Suits-Couldn't-Crack-A-Smile-To-Save-My-Life' as friends.
Irina: You know he's just going by 'Mr. Sark' now.
Jack: Why? Has he undergone any major surgery on his personality lately?
Irina: No, he just tried to fit that on his business card and it didn't really pan out so he thought it might be time to change it. I for one think it's a good change. He was originally going to go with Mr. Salvador Domingo Theodore Velasco Edward Michael Hollingsworth, but with a little persuasion on my part I managed to talk him into 'Julian Sark.' Do you like it?
Jack: The only thing I have ever admired about that man is his aim with a gun. Hits his target nine times out of ten.
Irina (sounding a little proud of herself): I taught him how to shoot you know.
Jack: Did you? You must be very proud of yourself, training an assassin.
Irina: I'm proud of his marksmanship, courtesy of me. At least I never taught him the finer arts of torturing. (Sounding a little confused) He went to a specialist for that. There was this one method that he was really fond of a while back that involved hog-tying your victim, covering him in honey and then leaving him outside an ant hill, but for some unknown reason he would only use that method on men and only on certain parts of their anatomy. Never did understand why.
Jack: Sounds direct and to the point.
Irina: "Well that may be true but there are way more interesting ways to kill a girl than a guy."
Jack: "And why might that be?"
Irina: "You're kidding right?"
Jack: "Oh yeah."
Irina: "My favorite one actually involves a crowbar soaked with napalm. I've always wanted to try that method out on Sloane but alas, he got the sex change operation and the chance went out the window. "Sigh
Jack: You're life is nothing but one tragedy after another.
Irina: I was thinking of writing it all down and turning it into a soap opera.
Jack: Maybe good for a hobby but there's better money in weapons. Or truffles if you can get your hands on them.
Irina: I actually thought of that already but you have to have these huge- ass hogs or boars or whatever to find them and I–
Jack: You what?
Irina: I have pig fear.
Jack: You're kidding right?
Irina: Don't laugh
Jack: Wasn't going to say a word.
Irina: Good man.
Jack: But wait, I've seen you eat bacon and ham and other pork products.
Irina: 'It's all well and good if it comes pre-packaged.' That's my motto.
Jack: Last time I checked your motto was a little more vulgar than that. In fact if I remember correctly it was 'Ma andi mandir biha. Or my personal favorite: 'Life is like a penis. When it gets hard, fuck it.' I believe there were a few more but I'm not going to repeat them.
Irina: That's so sweet of you.
Jack: That I'm not going to repeat them?
Irina: No. That you remembered after all this time. I'm touched.
Jack: You're touched in the head.
Irina: And once again the steamroller that is your personality rears its ugly head and paves right over our little trip down memory lane.
Jack: Sorry. Guess you'll have to take the detour.
Irina: You're impossible.
Jack: Impossibly charming, handsome, the list goes on and on.
Irina: You do realize that you're proving my case for me? If we were lawyers on opposing sides of a case, I would just sit back, relax and let you do all the talking.
Jack (Wistfully): A course of action which I hope you'll be employing some time soon?
Irina: Not likely.
Jack: Didn't think so. I won fifty bucks off a lottery ticket on Monday so I figure my luck for this week is spent.
Irina (Surprised): You play the lottery?
Jack: Every week. Why?
Irina: No reason. You just don't seem the lottery type.
Jack: Exactly what is the 'lottery type'?
Irina: Oh you know. Mid to late forties, not too wealthy and– wait.
Jack: What?
Irina: Something just occurred to me. How on earth did we go from discussing methods of killing to talking about the type of people who play lottery?
Jack: Not sure about that but I am sure that it's somehow all your fault.
Irina: Skut
Jack: It just takes a special type of whacked to follow our train of thought. Also doesn't hurt to have experience with the CIA.
Irina: It does help.
Jack: Are we ever going to get around to talking about why you've suddenly decided to drop by?
Irina: Knowing us? Eventually.
Jack: Eventually?
Irina: Eventually.
Jack: Eventually as in soon-eventually?
Irina: Patience is a virtue.
Jack: And unfortunately not one I possess.
Irina: Oh all right. I'm here to check up on Sydney. She left the country yesterday and I don't know why.
Jack: You mean there's actually something that you don't know about? I'm shocked! I've never known you not to have someone on the inside feeding you information.
Irina (indignant): Jack don't be a tete de bite. Of course I have someone on the inside but his wife chose yesterday to have her baby and he had to rush off leaving me in the dark.
Jack: Well if you must know she and Vaughn went down to Tahiti for some rest and relaxation.
Irina: I assume Mrs. Reed is no longer in the picture.
Jack: Well if she is still in the picture, which I seriously doubt, then she's on the floor in the form of a puddle of goo.
Irina: Do I want to know?
Jack: Probably not.
Irina: I wish I could have seen that. She and her mother always got on my nerves. Prissy bitches that they were.
Jack: How did you know them?
Irina: Every time there was a Covenant mixer I'd see the two of them. Never could hold their alcohol though. Lauren threw up on my Manolo Blahniks one time. Nearly offed her with an Uzi that I just happened to have on my person at the time but at that exact moment I was called up on stage to receive my award for being named Terrorist of the Month. By the time I remembered she was gone.
Jack: So Lauren and Mrs. Reed were Covenant? Huh, go figure. I wish we had known that yesterday, then our little fondue experiment could have been written off on our taxes for interrogation purposes. As it was Dixon had to use all the cheese in the building including a wedge of Brie that I had in the fridge in the lounge. I really was looking forward to that cheese.
Irina: Well look on the bright side. Now you can do the same thing to Mrs. Reed that you did to her daughter and since the CIA will cover all expenses this time, you won't have to give up your cheese.
Jack: I do like the sound of that.
Irina: I just wish that I could see it. I really hated both of them.
Jack: Tell you what. Put on a wig and some dark sunglasses and I'll sneak you in to the building and you can watch from the control room monitor. I'll turn up the volume so you can fully appreciate the screaming.
Irina: Sounds great to me. Let's go.
They both get ready and meet up by the door on their way out. As he grabs his keys from the hook he remembers something.
Jack: I just have one question for you.
Irina: What might that be?
Jack: Did the movie Babe give you nightmares? (Irina smacks him upside the head, hard.) Ow!
Irina: You do realize that you have a hangover?
Jack: No shit, Sherlock! And if I didn't before your little love tap certainly reminded me. So what?
Irina: So I'll be the one driving the car, for safety reasons, you understand. She grabs the keys.
Jack (Horrified): Oh. Shit.
Irina: That's exactly right. Probably not a good idea to piss me off.
Jack (Mumbling): Well I lived a good life.
Irina: What was that?
Jack (Louder): I'm so glad you're my wife.
Irina: I thought so.
Jack (Whispering): Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name...
A/N: My therapist tells me that when I get stressed out or unhappy I should go to my happy place. You want to know what my happy place is? Of course you do you're wonderful people. My happy place is a land where everyone owns some type of Jeeps and are therefore smart people, so I won't have to worry about dealing with idiots; there are very hot shirtless guys all over everywhere, all of them very funny and don't smoke or do drugs; and the thing that makes me happiest of all? Reviews. Reviews. Reviews! So please people. Keep me in my happy place. You only have to worry about providing me with one out of three.
Translations:
Ma andi mandir biha is Arabic for "I don't give a shit"
Skut is Arabic for "Shut the fuck up"
Tete de bite is French for "Dickhead"