Chapter 47
They continued on their journey after a quick, but filling, lunch and, once on the road again, Jack took the liberty of calling Vaughn back, as promised, albeit a little late, and organizing with him where to meet them. The conversation was quick and, while Jack ached to hear his daughter's voice, he wasn't prepared to point that out. The drive, again, began as a quiet one, their stomachs full, Irina convinced Jack to try to sleep, telling him that if he didn't he was going to collapse and insisting he give his arm time to heal.
Jack agreed after a few moments of stern looks and settled back to sleep. Of course, leaning back in a chair and shutting his eyes with the intent to sleep didn't actually mean that sleep was going to come, but Jack wasn't too upset that slumber was avoiding him. Instead he settled to watch Irina through narrowed eyes, memorizing the contours of her face and the way her chest rose and fell with each breath.
Her hair bothered him; he'd never really seen her with hair any other than the long golden-brown locks that were naturally hers. The stiff blackness not suited to the tanned skin and brown eyes. But it was only temporary and would doubtless be washed away with chemicals on their return.
Nothing else about her was different, the clothes she had chosen carefully suited not only to her current alias but also to herself, the contrast of white on black ironic to their situation. The sharply heeled boots and shapely black pants did everything right for her legs and he slowly followed the soft curve of her calf through the black denim.
He glanced up and watched her eyes as they focussed on the busy roads. She glanced at him and he closed his eyes fully, adjusting his breathing in a moment to simulate sleep. With his eyes shut he missed Irina's roll of the eyes.
After a few minutes of faux-sleep he cautiously opened his eyes to slits and went back to surveying the woman across from him. She'd moved and the loose white shirt was pulled tight against her, the faint discoloration telling Jack she was wearing a black bra underneath and for a second he wondered if it was new. Not that it mattered.
He yearned to reach out and touch her, the smooth stomach and gentle curves of her hips just begging for attention. He sat still and let his eyes continue to sweep her body, he catalogued every tiny detail in his mind, the information, quite possibly, all he would have to live off for a very long time.
Her movement startled him and he watched as she reached up to pull the dark glasses down over her eyes. He tilted his head, ever so slightly, and looked out the windscreen.
He straightened in his seat quite obviously and Irina sighed, pulling the glasses back up onto her head. "You were going to watch me." Jack told her, more a statement than a question.
She smiled, not looking towards him but directly ahead, "If you had been asleep, you wouldn't have noticed." She paused, seeing if he would dispute it, "You were watching me anyway."
He smiled, his face showing only the slightest blush, "You knew?"
"Of course. I enjoy it." A cryptic answer, but she was talking nonetheless.
"You enjoy my watching you?" Jack asked.
"No, I enjoy watching you watch me."
"Ah..." Jack waited a moment, wondering what she was talking about. When she wasn't forthcoming with an answer he gave a slight shake of his head and brought his hand up to play with the hair just overhanging her ear, he felt her shudder immediately. "Why?"
"Why what?" she asked, having difficulty concentrating on the road at that very moment and no longer bothering to try to follow the conversation, just happy that the talk meant that his hot breath continued to flow past her ear. She could feel herself leaning towards him, completely against her own will.
"Why do you enjoy watching me watch you?" She had to concentrate on the words, she had to join them up to even begin to make sense of them and all the hard work almost fell apart as she felt him blow deliberately on the spot just below her ear.
She managed to provide an answer, "Because, you always look so..." she paused, lost for a moment, "real."
Jack laughed, his lips now vibrating lightly up against her neck. He understood what she meant; in the last few days, he'd seen the same look on her face as she watched him.
"Jack..." he read his name as a warning mare than anything else She sighed heavily and angled an arm up to push him away. He smiled at her, his head cocked to the side, "Not now," she told him, though they both knew it wasn't because she didn't want it.
He settled back in his seat, the pain in his arm now a dull throb, and looked out at the surroundings. A sign stating their arrival at Avalon Airport loomed up ahead and he relaxed as Irina managed to find a park near the private area of the airport as they had agreed to meet Sydney and Michael near the private plane gate. As the two climbed out of the four- wheel drive, the movement to grab the other's hand was mutual.
Catching Jack's eye, Irina smiled reassuringly and together then made their way to the lounge area near what was labeled Gate One.
They settled down and five minutes later were both feeling and looking restless. Despite feeling utterly exhausted, neither was about to fall asleep and the plane's departure was still over an hour away. No sign or Sydney and Vaughn either.
Irina was the first to break, not that it was a competition, but nonetheless, she was suddenly on her feet, pulling a fifty dollar note from nowhere and saying, "I'm going to go and grab a coffee. Want one?"
Jack smiled at her and nodded.
"Why don't you give Sydney a ring, see how far off they are." She sounded awkward but, at the moment, Jack couldn't quite place his finger on the reason why. And then she was gone, stalking off towards the small café.
Jack shook his head, over-whelmed by her complexity, and then pulled out the mobile phone they'd procured from the car and dialing the memorized number.
The phone was answered quickly and Vaughn's voice was hushed, "Vaughn," he stated, the common CIA habit still unbroken.
"Vaughn, it's Jack. How far off are you?" he demanded.
"Hold on," Jack heard a muffled exchange and then he was back, "About forty minutes. You're there already?"
Jack replied, "Yes, we just arrived, we're in the lounge as agreed on."
"Good, how's the arm?" Vaughn asked, true concern in his voice.
"It's fine," Jack told him, the blunt answer softened by the friendly tone. "Just a flesh wound."
"Right," an awkward silence followed, though only for a second. "I'll see you soon then." The line went dead and Jack flipped the phone shut.
He looked up to see Irina headed back towards him with two polystyrene cups of steaming coffee. She placed them down on the table in front on them, not bothering to take the lid off her own. "So?" she asked.
The curious uncertainty still hanging about her. He ignored his coffee and answered her, "Forty minutes."
"Hmmm..." her response was neutral.
"What?" Jack asked.
She looked at him, her eyes narrowed, her mind ticking over and he could see she was debating an issue. He wondered what it was and was given an answer when she approached him directly. "I need to tell you something...before this is all over."
His own eyes narrowed but he made no comment. "We need to find somewhere more...private." He raised an eyebrow, obviously playful in the way he had so often been twenty years ago, but she shook her head, "No, I just...I need to feel secure when I say this."
Jack had a good idea of what she was about to say, he knew the enormity of it, but he still had to hear it, no matter how many times she said it, he would always have to hear it.
He nodded and stood up, grabbing her hand and pulling her after him, their coffees forgotten.
They found a quiet corner, away from the gate, somewhere in between the private and the public areas, the check-ins shut and not a person in sight. The corner was out of sight mostly anyway, and a decorative plastic garden obscured them from view further. Someone who was actually looking for them would have had trouble seeing them.
They stopped, their eyes locking and Irina grabbed the other hand, aware that too much movement would send sharp shots of pain up his arm. She took a breath. Jack waited.
"I know I've said it," she began, her voice starting strong and full, but the slight shake still there, "But, with us going home, I have to make sure you understand." Jack remained faceless, his features giving nothing away. He wanted to interrupt, to tell her he understood, but he knew she needed to explain herself.
"Jack, no matter what, you have to know. I love you, more than anything else, ever." His lips broke into a reassuring smile and his hands moved up to trace patterns on her hips. "Promise me."
"What?" he asked.
Her voice dropped and he had to strain to hear her, "Promise me you'll keep going, regardless." He wasn't sure he quite understood her, but he nodded and almost immediately she slid her arms around his neck, dragging his lips to hers. The kiss was soft, measured by both to see what the other expected. Jack would have liked to draw it out, take his time, but her smell was strangely overpowering.
The closest either had come to a shower in the last forty-eight hours was the hot spring and the smell of sweat and musky dirtiness surrounded her lithe body. As she pulled back for a breath of air, her hands skimming down to his waist, he buried his lips in the crook of her neck, kissing tentatively the salty, soft skin there.
Involuntarily, Irina let a hand stray into Jack's hair, surprised at both his and her eagerness. He had to admire her for her ability to coerce him into anything. Briefly, his lips moving to her shoulder, fingers deftly moving away the material, he wondered how many men had been brought to their knees before the goddess in front of him.
She shuddered under his lips and he was brought back to reality. Her other hand, he could feel, had worked beneath his shirt and was now lying on his back, urging him on. Too much was the musky sent and searing heat that radiated from her, that he bit down at the edge of her shoulder, determined to mark her as his own, not caring that it might be his only chance, just knowing it was a chance. She moaned in a surreal mixture of pleasure and pain and he pulled back in a vague bid to regain control and to blow on the already bruising skin.
Jack brought his lips back to hers for a hungrier, though still soft and searching, kiss. She moaned into his mouth as his hands found her hips and in an animalistic moment pulled her into him roughly, their bodies locking together, neither ever wanting to let go. Despite the overwhelming feeling, Irina managed to angle her head back, slightly shocked, but definitely not upset, by his actions, his fingers now digging into the small of her back, another artistic array of bruises she would cherish.
"You don't want to think this through?" Irina had to ask, it was that tiny voice at the back of her mind that couldn't believe that anyone could ever make her feel this good, this free, especially without the underlying hatred she had feared for so long.
"Irina," he put a certain emphasis on the word, something he had learnt, no doubt, off her, "If I think about this, instead of doing this, for one more second, I swear to God, I'll - " It was enough and she wasn't about to waste any more time, they didn't have long. She slammed into him, hips and mouths melding together as she forced him to open his mouth to her. She remembered the taste, not just from their incident at the hot spring but from years ago when she'd let her instincts overcome her head and let go of herself. He tasted like Jack, like rain almost.
Substantially shocked when he'd been cut off mid-sentence, but not regretting her decision, Jack welcomed her rough attack on his lips and the chance to explore her mouth, as vigorous as she was. Immediately the coffee on her tongue was tangible. Apparently she'd had a sip on her way back to the lounge.
He let out a painful gasp as she grabbed at his arm. A flesh wound it might have been but it still stung with a vengeance. Irina pulled away the moment she heard him. The severe look of worry already on her face as she tentatively asked him if he was okay. He nodded, smiling slightly, as the pain ebbed away.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."
He didn't remember ever having seen her is such a state and, inane though it may have been, he found the mixture of worry and a definite desire, rather sexy. He moved back towards her, his lips skimming her jaw-line before joining with her mouth again, their instincts perfectly matching each other as their mouths opened simultaneously.
He felt, rather than heard, her moan into his mouth as one of his hands snaked around to her stomach, each of his fingers, rippling over the taunt abdomen he had always wondered at, and now, even more so. Jack, taking control, or what he told himself was control; let his hand climb further, the fingers moving over each rib, his thumb skimming over the dip between the two sides of her rib cage.
Irina was loosing control, and her head lolled back the moment Jack let his lips leave hers to work at her throat. His hand, warm and rough on her skin was moving, ever so slowly, up over her ribs, taking each inch into consideration as his fingers worked their magic. She moaned again as his forefinger found the delicate skin just below her right breast and knew that if he moved any higher he was going to encounter material.
His lips distracted her from the thought as he ran his teeth over the shoulder he had managed to expose, she shuddered and angled his head back towards her with both hands, twice she kissed him on the lips, chastely, ironic though it was, and then hard and coarsely. Jack pulled back, eager to continue, but wanting a breath. He let his fingers move, expertly, just under the soft material of the bra and again she moaned.
"I love you," he murmured against the crook of her neck, where his head now rested, his fingers content to play at the soft skin he'd found.
"I know," she grinned, her voice a rasp and heavy with lust, "But you have to remember your promise."
Jack searched his memory banks which were increasingly filled with visions of the woman he had up against the wall, "To keep going?"
She nodded, her hair, black though it might be, still playing against his forehead, "What did you mean by that?" he asked.
It took a moment for him to realize that she'd become very still. When he did, he raised his eyes to look at the bemused expression on Irina's face. She stared at him for a moment before answering his question, her voice still rasping, but serious now, "When they put me back in the cell. I don't want you to wait. Move on." Jack's expression made it perfectly clear he wasn't allowing himself to understand her. "You can't live life loving someone you can't have."
They continued on their journey after a quick, but filling, lunch and, once on the road again, Jack took the liberty of calling Vaughn back, as promised, albeit a little late, and organizing with him where to meet them. The conversation was quick and, while Jack ached to hear his daughter's voice, he wasn't prepared to point that out. The drive, again, began as a quiet one, their stomachs full, Irina convinced Jack to try to sleep, telling him that if he didn't he was going to collapse and insisting he give his arm time to heal.
Jack agreed after a few moments of stern looks and settled back to sleep. Of course, leaning back in a chair and shutting his eyes with the intent to sleep didn't actually mean that sleep was going to come, but Jack wasn't too upset that slumber was avoiding him. Instead he settled to watch Irina through narrowed eyes, memorizing the contours of her face and the way her chest rose and fell with each breath.
Her hair bothered him; he'd never really seen her with hair any other than the long golden-brown locks that were naturally hers. The stiff blackness not suited to the tanned skin and brown eyes. But it was only temporary and would doubtless be washed away with chemicals on their return.
Nothing else about her was different, the clothes she had chosen carefully suited not only to her current alias but also to herself, the contrast of white on black ironic to their situation. The sharply heeled boots and shapely black pants did everything right for her legs and he slowly followed the soft curve of her calf through the black denim.
He glanced up and watched her eyes as they focussed on the busy roads. She glanced at him and he closed his eyes fully, adjusting his breathing in a moment to simulate sleep. With his eyes shut he missed Irina's roll of the eyes.
After a few minutes of faux-sleep he cautiously opened his eyes to slits and went back to surveying the woman across from him. She'd moved and the loose white shirt was pulled tight against her, the faint discoloration telling Jack she was wearing a black bra underneath and for a second he wondered if it was new. Not that it mattered.
He yearned to reach out and touch her, the smooth stomach and gentle curves of her hips just begging for attention. He sat still and let his eyes continue to sweep her body, he catalogued every tiny detail in his mind, the information, quite possibly, all he would have to live off for a very long time.
Her movement startled him and he watched as she reached up to pull the dark glasses down over her eyes. He tilted his head, ever so slightly, and looked out the windscreen.
He straightened in his seat quite obviously and Irina sighed, pulling the glasses back up onto her head. "You were going to watch me." Jack told her, more a statement than a question.
She smiled, not looking towards him but directly ahead, "If you had been asleep, you wouldn't have noticed." She paused, seeing if he would dispute it, "You were watching me anyway."
He smiled, his face showing only the slightest blush, "You knew?"
"Of course. I enjoy it." A cryptic answer, but she was talking nonetheless.
"You enjoy my watching you?" Jack asked.
"No, I enjoy watching you watch me."
"Ah..." Jack waited a moment, wondering what she was talking about. When she wasn't forthcoming with an answer he gave a slight shake of his head and brought his hand up to play with the hair just overhanging her ear, he felt her shudder immediately. "Why?"
"Why what?" she asked, having difficulty concentrating on the road at that very moment and no longer bothering to try to follow the conversation, just happy that the talk meant that his hot breath continued to flow past her ear. She could feel herself leaning towards him, completely against her own will.
"Why do you enjoy watching me watch you?" She had to concentrate on the words, she had to join them up to even begin to make sense of them and all the hard work almost fell apart as she felt him blow deliberately on the spot just below her ear.
She managed to provide an answer, "Because, you always look so..." she paused, lost for a moment, "real."
Jack laughed, his lips now vibrating lightly up against her neck. He understood what she meant; in the last few days, he'd seen the same look on her face as she watched him.
"Jack..." he read his name as a warning mare than anything else She sighed heavily and angled an arm up to push him away. He smiled at her, his head cocked to the side, "Not now," she told him, though they both knew it wasn't because she didn't want it.
He settled back in his seat, the pain in his arm now a dull throb, and looked out at the surroundings. A sign stating their arrival at Avalon Airport loomed up ahead and he relaxed as Irina managed to find a park near the private area of the airport as they had agreed to meet Sydney and Michael near the private plane gate. As the two climbed out of the four- wheel drive, the movement to grab the other's hand was mutual.
Catching Jack's eye, Irina smiled reassuringly and together then made their way to the lounge area near what was labeled Gate One.
They settled down and five minutes later were both feeling and looking restless. Despite feeling utterly exhausted, neither was about to fall asleep and the plane's departure was still over an hour away. No sign or Sydney and Vaughn either.
Irina was the first to break, not that it was a competition, but nonetheless, she was suddenly on her feet, pulling a fifty dollar note from nowhere and saying, "I'm going to go and grab a coffee. Want one?"
Jack smiled at her and nodded.
"Why don't you give Sydney a ring, see how far off they are." She sounded awkward but, at the moment, Jack couldn't quite place his finger on the reason why. And then she was gone, stalking off towards the small café.
Jack shook his head, over-whelmed by her complexity, and then pulled out the mobile phone they'd procured from the car and dialing the memorized number.
The phone was answered quickly and Vaughn's voice was hushed, "Vaughn," he stated, the common CIA habit still unbroken.
"Vaughn, it's Jack. How far off are you?" he demanded.
"Hold on," Jack heard a muffled exchange and then he was back, "About forty minutes. You're there already?"
Jack replied, "Yes, we just arrived, we're in the lounge as agreed on."
"Good, how's the arm?" Vaughn asked, true concern in his voice.
"It's fine," Jack told him, the blunt answer softened by the friendly tone. "Just a flesh wound."
"Right," an awkward silence followed, though only for a second. "I'll see you soon then." The line went dead and Jack flipped the phone shut.
He looked up to see Irina headed back towards him with two polystyrene cups of steaming coffee. She placed them down on the table in front on them, not bothering to take the lid off her own. "So?" she asked.
The curious uncertainty still hanging about her. He ignored his coffee and answered her, "Forty minutes."
"Hmmm..." her response was neutral.
"What?" Jack asked.
She looked at him, her eyes narrowed, her mind ticking over and he could see she was debating an issue. He wondered what it was and was given an answer when she approached him directly. "I need to tell you something...before this is all over."
His own eyes narrowed but he made no comment. "We need to find somewhere more...private." He raised an eyebrow, obviously playful in the way he had so often been twenty years ago, but she shook her head, "No, I just...I need to feel secure when I say this."
Jack had a good idea of what she was about to say, he knew the enormity of it, but he still had to hear it, no matter how many times she said it, he would always have to hear it.
He nodded and stood up, grabbing her hand and pulling her after him, their coffees forgotten.
They found a quiet corner, away from the gate, somewhere in between the private and the public areas, the check-ins shut and not a person in sight. The corner was out of sight mostly anyway, and a decorative plastic garden obscured them from view further. Someone who was actually looking for them would have had trouble seeing them.
They stopped, their eyes locking and Irina grabbed the other hand, aware that too much movement would send sharp shots of pain up his arm. She took a breath. Jack waited.
"I know I've said it," she began, her voice starting strong and full, but the slight shake still there, "But, with us going home, I have to make sure you understand." Jack remained faceless, his features giving nothing away. He wanted to interrupt, to tell her he understood, but he knew she needed to explain herself.
"Jack, no matter what, you have to know. I love you, more than anything else, ever." His lips broke into a reassuring smile and his hands moved up to trace patterns on her hips. "Promise me."
"What?" he asked.
Her voice dropped and he had to strain to hear her, "Promise me you'll keep going, regardless." He wasn't sure he quite understood her, but he nodded and almost immediately she slid her arms around his neck, dragging his lips to hers. The kiss was soft, measured by both to see what the other expected. Jack would have liked to draw it out, take his time, but her smell was strangely overpowering.
The closest either had come to a shower in the last forty-eight hours was the hot spring and the smell of sweat and musky dirtiness surrounded her lithe body. As she pulled back for a breath of air, her hands skimming down to his waist, he buried his lips in the crook of her neck, kissing tentatively the salty, soft skin there.
Involuntarily, Irina let a hand stray into Jack's hair, surprised at both his and her eagerness. He had to admire her for her ability to coerce him into anything. Briefly, his lips moving to her shoulder, fingers deftly moving away the material, he wondered how many men had been brought to their knees before the goddess in front of him.
She shuddered under his lips and he was brought back to reality. Her other hand, he could feel, had worked beneath his shirt and was now lying on his back, urging him on. Too much was the musky sent and searing heat that radiated from her, that he bit down at the edge of her shoulder, determined to mark her as his own, not caring that it might be his only chance, just knowing it was a chance. She moaned in a surreal mixture of pleasure and pain and he pulled back in a vague bid to regain control and to blow on the already bruising skin.
Jack brought his lips back to hers for a hungrier, though still soft and searching, kiss. She moaned into his mouth as his hands found her hips and in an animalistic moment pulled her into him roughly, their bodies locking together, neither ever wanting to let go. Despite the overwhelming feeling, Irina managed to angle her head back, slightly shocked, but definitely not upset, by his actions, his fingers now digging into the small of her back, another artistic array of bruises she would cherish.
"You don't want to think this through?" Irina had to ask, it was that tiny voice at the back of her mind that couldn't believe that anyone could ever make her feel this good, this free, especially without the underlying hatred she had feared for so long.
"Irina," he put a certain emphasis on the word, something he had learnt, no doubt, off her, "If I think about this, instead of doing this, for one more second, I swear to God, I'll - " It was enough and she wasn't about to waste any more time, they didn't have long. She slammed into him, hips and mouths melding together as she forced him to open his mouth to her. She remembered the taste, not just from their incident at the hot spring but from years ago when she'd let her instincts overcome her head and let go of herself. He tasted like Jack, like rain almost.
Substantially shocked when he'd been cut off mid-sentence, but not regretting her decision, Jack welcomed her rough attack on his lips and the chance to explore her mouth, as vigorous as she was. Immediately the coffee on her tongue was tangible. Apparently she'd had a sip on her way back to the lounge.
He let out a painful gasp as she grabbed at his arm. A flesh wound it might have been but it still stung with a vengeance. Irina pulled away the moment she heard him. The severe look of worry already on her face as she tentatively asked him if he was okay. He nodded, smiling slightly, as the pain ebbed away.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."
He didn't remember ever having seen her is such a state and, inane though it may have been, he found the mixture of worry and a definite desire, rather sexy. He moved back towards her, his lips skimming her jaw-line before joining with her mouth again, their instincts perfectly matching each other as their mouths opened simultaneously.
He felt, rather than heard, her moan into his mouth as one of his hands snaked around to her stomach, each of his fingers, rippling over the taunt abdomen he had always wondered at, and now, even more so. Jack, taking control, or what he told himself was control; let his hand climb further, the fingers moving over each rib, his thumb skimming over the dip between the two sides of her rib cage.
Irina was loosing control, and her head lolled back the moment Jack let his lips leave hers to work at her throat. His hand, warm and rough on her skin was moving, ever so slowly, up over her ribs, taking each inch into consideration as his fingers worked their magic. She moaned again as his forefinger found the delicate skin just below her right breast and knew that if he moved any higher he was going to encounter material.
His lips distracted her from the thought as he ran his teeth over the shoulder he had managed to expose, she shuddered and angled his head back towards her with both hands, twice she kissed him on the lips, chastely, ironic though it was, and then hard and coarsely. Jack pulled back, eager to continue, but wanting a breath. He let his fingers move, expertly, just under the soft material of the bra and again she moaned.
"I love you," he murmured against the crook of her neck, where his head now rested, his fingers content to play at the soft skin he'd found.
"I know," she grinned, her voice a rasp and heavy with lust, "But you have to remember your promise."
Jack searched his memory banks which were increasingly filled with visions of the woman he had up against the wall, "To keep going?"
She nodded, her hair, black though it might be, still playing against his forehead, "What did you mean by that?" he asked.
It took a moment for him to realize that she'd become very still. When he did, he raised his eyes to look at the bemused expression on Irina's face. She stared at him for a moment before answering his question, her voice still rasping, but serious now, "When they put me back in the cell. I don't want you to wait. Move on." Jack's expression made it perfectly clear he wasn't allowing himself to understand her. "You can't live life loving someone you can't have."