Chapter 49
In no position to dispute the premise of the question, she answered, her words spiteful even though the uncertainty was beginning to form. "You've been using me. And for a mission nonetheless. I think that's grounds for an argument."
"No, I wasn't using you," he wasn't defending himself, so much that he was trying to put her into a position where she could no longer provide answers to his questions. "What are you really upset about?"
"You never make it easy do you Jack?" he noticed the change in tone as she slipped into the defensive.
"Make what easy?"
She paused, as though thinking it over, but he doubted she was, then she replied, "Life."
A Stalemate.
They stared at each other, Jack's arms beginning to ache as he forced himself to continue holding Irina's hands above her head. He was sure that if he let his concentration, or his grip, slip for just a moment, she'd take control, and that was something he didn't want to think about.
Irina looked back into his eyes with defiance and arrogance. She wasn't going to speak, she wasn't going to move, she wasn't going to give him the chance to make another move and, eventually, he'd have to start over. Hopefully, it would be the instant that Sydney and Vaughn turned up. If all went to the haphazard plan in her head, they'd walk right past and Irina would be able to provide the excuse for moving away. But how much longer was she going to have to endure the agony of both Jack being so close and her resolve, though ever decaying, to believe he had been using her.
She blinked and opened her eyes in time to see Jack blink then the two way stare return, a small smile playing about his lips. Keeping her face as blank as she could manage, she blinked again and, once more, saw Jack blink only an instant after her. Obviously, this was a game to him.
Taking an undetectable breath, she blinked again however upon opening her eyes she didn't look at Jack. Her eyes were to the clock and she quickly read the time. It could only be another fifteen minutes until her daughter's arrival. That was all she had to hold on for.
Everyone knew that the mind was predisposed toward changing pattern on the third attempt. Everyone. It was one of the first things you were taught in CIA training because enemies apparently used it. Jack had found out that this wasn't rarely true and enemies were actually predisposed to being paranoid and forgoing what their mind wanted and changing their patterns on the second or forth attempt.
But Irina had done what he wanted. Once, twice she had blinked and he had followed, determined to drag her into another little game but on the third he didn't blink and watched as her eyes quickly sought out the nearest clock. This all happened in an instant and, as Jack saw another opening; he didn't have the time, nor the will power, to think about it.
With her head turned ever so slightly, Jack's movement was fast enough for her to miss entirely. Again, she felt the same lips on her skin, this time, along her jawbone as his tongue traced a quick, wet line up to the tender skin behind her ear.
There he hovered, pulling back so that his lips were a mere millimeter away and his breath still hot enough to burn. Frozen, the two of them waited, each wanting the other to provide explanation, and neither winning.
After what had felt like an eternity, Jack hadn't been throttled and the woman before him seemed to have stopped breathing, he let his lips move back to the skin he cherished, his hands remaining on her wrists but his lips and teeth persuading her towards the edge as he moved down her neck, following the muscle down to her shoulder. He bit down lightly and then moved across, knowing he shouldn't, knowing she could kill him with a well- aimed kick, but going ahead nevertheless.
As his teeth gently scrapped across her collarbone, Irina couldn't help but let her head loll back to rest on the wall behind her. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that she hated him, her body was always going to point out the blatantly obvious. She had to bite her own lip to stop the moan as she felt Jack's tongue sliding down to where his teeth had marked her own only minutes before. He pulled back, blowing on it, letting his eyes move up to hers.
Despite what she later claimed she was feeling, the look of raw desire in her eyes was unmistakable and the moment's eye contact she shared with Jack told her it was mutual. His lips crushed down on hers and she felt his hands release her wrists. Losing most, if not all control, her hands quickly found his hair, immersing themselves in the salt and pepper curls.
His hands, now free as well, moved almost as fast, one to the small of Irina's back where he pulled her closer to him, trying to pull just one more inch of skin onto his. The other found her black ponytail and made short work of pulling the tie free, letting the straightened locks fall around her face.
The kiss was passionate and aggressive. Both of them fighting to gain dominance and cast the other into submission, not so much because it was what they wanted but because it was what made it fun. With a jolt, Jack felt Irina's leg hook up around his. The pain that the heel of her boot was causing to the back of his knee was ignored as every inch of his body caught fire again, his body crushed up against hers as she drew him even closer with her powerful limbs.
Briefly, he wondered how she was still managing to fill her lungs with air, the wall and him sandwiching her into an ever tighter space. Pulling back for another mouth full of air, they locked eyes and shared a hasty smirk before simultaneously going back for more.
Addictive, was the only word for it, and to Jack, at that moment, there was no evident reason for stopping. Irina, on the other hand, saw one and with force pulled away, her hands realigning themselves, one to the nape of his neck, her long fingers winding around to his chin, and the other to his shoulder. Bringing her lips to the dip between his collarbones, she placed feather light kiss up to the peak of his chin and then scrapped her teeth down to the crook of his neck.
Once there, her teeth bit down, hard enough to scratch at the skin and cause, unseen, another bruise to form. She moved back in time to find Jack reacting accordingly, her hands already above her head and their breath mingling between them, short and labored.
Her bite, it seemed, had been too sharp for Jack to consider it tender. And he was right in assuming so. Slumping towards her, by no means angry, but realizing that they had to talk before she caused him serious harm, he placed a feather-light kiss just below her ear and moved back, letting her arms flop to her sides, his reflex no longer required. "I wasn't using you."
Underneath the rough, and still obviously hungry tones, his voice was so sincere that she almost believed him without question. He looked a beaten man and stood stoic before her. "I swear on our daughter's life, I wasn't using you."
It was the one thing she had never questioned, his love for Sydney. It brought the uncertainty crashing down, and with it, anger. "Then what?" her voice came out harsher than she had planned, but it would have to do.
His face showed her the confusion and the bewilderment he was feeling and, as his shoulders slumped she waited patiently for an answer. He looked up at her, taking another step back, a good meter between them, "You can't possibly expect me to go back to living as though you were dead."
She watched him carefully, not sure what the answer had to do with the question.
He continued, "Not after all of this. How could you expect me to do that?"
Her brow dipped as she tried to piece together the pieces of the puzzle. What exactly had caused the argument?
Jack saw that the realization was dawning on her and he went on, "I thought, incorrectly, that the only way you could expect me to be capable of moving on was if you hadn't experienced what I had. If you were basing your expectations on what you knew you would have been capable of in my position." His words weren't coming out particularly eloquently, "I thought you were saying it was just a meaningless fling."
In no position to dispute the premise of the question, she answered, her words spiteful even though the uncertainty was beginning to form. "You've been using me. And for a mission nonetheless. I think that's grounds for an argument."
"No, I wasn't using you," he wasn't defending himself, so much that he was trying to put her into a position where she could no longer provide answers to his questions. "What are you really upset about?"
"You never make it easy do you Jack?" he noticed the change in tone as she slipped into the defensive.
"Make what easy?"
She paused, as though thinking it over, but he doubted she was, then she replied, "Life."
A Stalemate.
They stared at each other, Jack's arms beginning to ache as he forced himself to continue holding Irina's hands above her head. He was sure that if he let his concentration, or his grip, slip for just a moment, she'd take control, and that was something he didn't want to think about.
Irina looked back into his eyes with defiance and arrogance. She wasn't going to speak, she wasn't going to move, she wasn't going to give him the chance to make another move and, eventually, he'd have to start over. Hopefully, it would be the instant that Sydney and Vaughn turned up. If all went to the haphazard plan in her head, they'd walk right past and Irina would be able to provide the excuse for moving away. But how much longer was she going to have to endure the agony of both Jack being so close and her resolve, though ever decaying, to believe he had been using her.
She blinked and opened her eyes in time to see Jack blink then the two way stare return, a small smile playing about his lips. Keeping her face as blank as she could manage, she blinked again and, once more, saw Jack blink only an instant after her. Obviously, this was a game to him.
Taking an undetectable breath, she blinked again however upon opening her eyes she didn't look at Jack. Her eyes were to the clock and she quickly read the time. It could only be another fifteen minutes until her daughter's arrival. That was all she had to hold on for.
Everyone knew that the mind was predisposed toward changing pattern on the third attempt. Everyone. It was one of the first things you were taught in CIA training because enemies apparently used it. Jack had found out that this wasn't rarely true and enemies were actually predisposed to being paranoid and forgoing what their mind wanted and changing their patterns on the second or forth attempt.
But Irina had done what he wanted. Once, twice she had blinked and he had followed, determined to drag her into another little game but on the third he didn't blink and watched as her eyes quickly sought out the nearest clock. This all happened in an instant and, as Jack saw another opening; he didn't have the time, nor the will power, to think about it.
With her head turned ever so slightly, Jack's movement was fast enough for her to miss entirely. Again, she felt the same lips on her skin, this time, along her jawbone as his tongue traced a quick, wet line up to the tender skin behind her ear.
There he hovered, pulling back so that his lips were a mere millimeter away and his breath still hot enough to burn. Frozen, the two of them waited, each wanting the other to provide explanation, and neither winning.
After what had felt like an eternity, Jack hadn't been throttled and the woman before him seemed to have stopped breathing, he let his lips move back to the skin he cherished, his hands remaining on her wrists but his lips and teeth persuading her towards the edge as he moved down her neck, following the muscle down to her shoulder. He bit down lightly and then moved across, knowing he shouldn't, knowing she could kill him with a well- aimed kick, but going ahead nevertheless.
As his teeth gently scrapped across her collarbone, Irina couldn't help but let her head loll back to rest on the wall behind her. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that she hated him, her body was always going to point out the blatantly obvious. She had to bite her own lip to stop the moan as she felt Jack's tongue sliding down to where his teeth had marked her own only minutes before. He pulled back, blowing on it, letting his eyes move up to hers.
Despite what she later claimed she was feeling, the look of raw desire in her eyes was unmistakable and the moment's eye contact she shared with Jack told her it was mutual. His lips crushed down on hers and she felt his hands release her wrists. Losing most, if not all control, her hands quickly found his hair, immersing themselves in the salt and pepper curls.
His hands, now free as well, moved almost as fast, one to the small of Irina's back where he pulled her closer to him, trying to pull just one more inch of skin onto his. The other found her black ponytail and made short work of pulling the tie free, letting the straightened locks fall around her face.
The kiss was passionate and aggressive. Both of them fighting to gain dominance and cast the other into submission, not so much because it was what they wanted but because it was what made it fun. With a jolt, Jack felt Irina's leg hook up around his. The pain that the heel of her boot was causing to the back of his knee was ignored as every inch of his body caught fire again, his body crushed up against hers as she drew him even closer with her powerful limbs.
Briefly, he wondered how she was still managing to fill her lungs with air, the wall and him sandwiching her into an ever tighter space. Pulling back for another mouth full of air, they locked eyes and shared a hasty smirk before simultaneously going back for more.
Addictive, was the only word for it, and to Jack, at that moment, there was no evident reason for stopping. Irina, on the other hand, saw one and with force pulled away, her hands realigning themselves, one to the nape of his neck, her long fingers winding around to his chin, and the other to his shoulder. Bringing her lips to the dip between his collarbones, she placed feather light kiss up to the peak of his chin and then scrapped her teeth down to the crook of his neck.
Once there, her teeth bit down, hard enough to scratch at the skin and cause, unseen, another bruise to form. She moved back in time to find Jack reacting accordingly, her hands already above her head and their breath mingling between them, short and labored.
Her bite, it seemed, had been too sharp for Jack to consider it tender. And he was right in assuming so. Slumping towards her, by no means angry, but realizing that they had to talk before she caused him serious harm, he placed a feather-light kiss just below her ear and moved back, letting her arms flop to her sides, his reflex no longer required. "I wasn't using you."
Underneath the rough, and still obviously hungry tones, his voice was so sincere that she almost believed him without question. He looked a beaten man and stood stoic before her. "I swear on our daughter's life, I wasn't using you."
It was the one thing she had never questioned, his love for Sydney. It brought the uncertainty crashing down, and with it, anger. "Then what?" her voice came out harsher than she had planned, but it would have to do.
His face showed her the confusion and the bewilderment he was feeling and, as his shoulders slumped she waited patiently for an answer. He looked up at her, taking another step back, a good meter between them, "You can't possibly expect me to go back to living as though you were dead."
She watched him carefully, not sure what the answer had to do with the question.
He continued, "Not after all of this. How could you expect me to do that?"
Her brow dipped as she tried to piece together the pieces of the puzzle. What exactly had caused the argument?
Jack saw that the realization was dawning on her and he went on, "I thought, incorrectly, that the only way you could expect me to be capable of moving on was if you hadn't experienced what I had. If you were basing your expectations on what you knew you would have been capable of in my position." His words weren't coming out particularly eloquently, "I thought you were saying it was just a meaningless fling."