What the hell had she been thinking? That he wouldn't take the first chance he got to turn her in? Just because he wasn't after her blood anymore that didn't mean he would just let her get away. And just because they had shared bed again it didn't mean he had forgotten, not even to mention forgiven. I will never forgive you for what you did. And she hadn't expected him to. Neither had she expected herself to forget.
"I mean it, Jack."
She couldn't tell if it was the determination in her voice or the gun in her hand, but he did as he was told. Another beeping sound when he pressed a button to cancel the call. Letting his hand sink down, he stared back at her with gritted teeth.
"So whom were we going to call?" she asked in an almost casual, slightly mocking tone.
"None of your business," he growled.
"Really." She sneered. "And I thought it was CTU."
"I don't work for them anymore." The absurdity of his words struck him as he spoke them and he found her sneer widening as she heard them. It didn't matter that this time it was the truth.
"Right." She took another step into the room. "The phone," she said, the smile fading from her features, making way for a blank expression he knew so well. It was her back-to-business look. The mask her face became when she did what she was best at - kill or betray or possibly both. And again he wondered if all the vulnerability and tiredness she had shown earlier had just been part of her performance to lead to this point. Had she fooled him once again? He looked at the phone in his hand and tossed it over to her, cursing himself inwardly.
Not taking her eyes off of him she caught it, redialed and brought it to her ear. Taking a deep breath she cast her eyes down in anticipation of what was going to come. A part of her really hoped, nearly prayed it wouldn't be CTU to answer, but who else could he possibly have been trying to call. She couldn't help but hurt. Again he would force her to take actions, again he would force her to do something she didn't want to but had no choice. She couldn't let him take her back, neither the past two years nor the last few hours had changed a thing. The game was the same, the stakes as high as always.
A voice interrupted her line of thought and told her that there was one new message on Jack's voice box. So he hadn't been trying to call. They had tried to call him. Still the implications were the same. She sighed inwardly and wondered who it would be. Maybe someone she knew, a voice from her past? Someone she'd worked with? When the recording was finally about to be played she almost expected to hear Tony's voice. CTU, Almeida. But it wasn't Tony.
The shock came first and a strong note of deja-vu as Kim's voice found its way into her auditory canal. She threw a piercing glance at Jack but avoided his eyes again after just a second. Bowing her head she tried to give him less access to her face expression while she was struggling with the mix of emotions washing over her. Focus! She pushed away the chain of memories and images and the feelings they dragged along. Instead she tried to hang on to her relief. She had been hoping he hadn't called CTU the minute she turned her back on him. And now she found he hadn't. Despite her expectations. That was something. They could start from there.
She put the phone down and met his penetrating gaze. Whom are you kidding? Just because he didn't do it yet, doesn't mean he's not gonna do it later. What do you expect him to do? Just go home? She didn't know what to expect. She didn't know what she wanted him to do or what she wanted to do herself. For once she was completely out of options. She didn't know how to resolve this mess. It's still the same game, the same rules. If you don't want him to screw with you, you have to kill him. She couldn't believe they were right there again.
She threw her head back and took a deep breath, struggling not to laugh at the situation. She lowered the gun. Her arms and shoulders drooping, she slowly let her eyes wander back to meet his. "You should call your daughter," she sighed and tossed the phone back to him. Another deja-vu but she didn't waste a thought on it. Instead she cast a contemptuous look at the gun in her other hand and then, under his watchful eyes, tossed it aside as well. She saw it land on the couch and looked up to meet his gaze, rolling her shoulders back, awaiting his reaction.
He glared at her and she could tell he was pissed off. His look was intense and surely threatening, but to her relief she didn't find any signs of the old, deadly rage. He grasped her line of thought and something snapped in him. He felt the anger boiling up inside him and the urge to hit her. Slap her. Hurt her. Maybe he couldn't kill her, but he could surely hurt her.
Quickly he covered the distance between them and literally threw himself at her. She hardly had the time to react, just managing to prepare herself for the fall before he took her down and pinned her to the floor. Her left arm buried under the weight of his body and the wrist of her right arm in a tight grip, he pressed his elbow against her throat, making it hard for her to breathe. His piercing eyes staring directly into hers triggered flashbacks from Mexico. But something was different, of course. This time he just wanted to hurt her. Hurt her really bad.
"Alright," she tried to utter, coughing from the pressure on her trachea. "Easy." She understood he had to challenge the position of power the gun had given her. Put her back into place. It was part of their game. But she wished he would do it just a little bit less painful.
Still glaring at her piercingly, he realized the complete lack of panic or fear in her eyes. She didn't seem the least bit afraid of him and that just made him wanting to hurt her even more. He thought about bashing his fist into her face but instead he just increased the pressure on her throat and watched her struggle to keep breathing, while he recognized the first signs of insecurity in her features which were now twisted with pain.
Lying there under him it dawned on her that she had misjudged the situation. Her eyes and lungs burning, she couldn't but return his gaze and stare back into his penetrating eyes. It was by far not the first time his hands or arms were at her throat. The garage. The interrogation room. The plane. Mexico... She had lost count a long time ago. But this time he wasn't torn between pushing harder to finish her up or pulling back to let her live. This time he was just playing with her, his eyes wild with some kind of primitive glow. He didn't want to kill her, that much was for sure, still giving her just enough air to stay conscious.
"Jack", she tried to call out, but her voice failed her and her lips moved without making more than a scratching sound.
"What?" he hissed. "Are you trying to say something, Nina?" His eyes glowing demonically. "I can't hear you." Again he increased the pressure on her throat, but just for a second. He didn't want her to pass out. "First you pull a gun on me and then you don't wanna live with the consequences?"
She just stared at him in disbelief. He was out of his mind.
"You think you are safe now because I won't kill you? I'll show you how safe you are." Again he put a little bit more pressure on his arm. Her eyes watered and something snapped in her too. In one quick move she pulled her knee up, hitting him hard just between his legs and it was his turn to groan, his face contorted in surprise and pain. He loosened his grip around her wrist and she managed to jerk her arm free. Pushing him away he rolled off of her and landed next to her. With the pressure of his elbow removed from her throat she got her breath back and sucked the air in hungrily, coughing while she once again pushed herself further away from him. But he didn't seem much of a threat anymore, lying there with his hands covering his crotch area, breathing heavily.
"I'm sick of being your punching bag, Jack," she yelled, her voice trying to find a balance between mockery and anger. "How much fun do you think it's been to be threatened and bullied around by you all the time? How safe do you think I felt with your gun against my head or your hands around my throat? How many times you think I was convinced I'd drawn my last breath? So, sorry if you're pissed off just because I dared to turn the tables on you."
He didn't answer, just rolled over on his side, turning his back to her. Sitting up she rubbed her throat, coughing again. She realized she was working herself up but for once she didn't care about letting her emotions steer. "You think I just showed up again every now and then to make your life hell and have some fun before returning to my cozy fugitive existence?" She laughed with derision and pain. "Well, sorry to disillusion you, Jack, but that's not really how it was."
She tried to meet his gaze but he didn't make a move to look at her. His breath was steady again and at least he seemed to have calmed down.
"Sorry for having to break the news to you, but safe is the last thing I've ever felt around you."