"You'll leave a mark."
"Who are you worried will see?" Her forehead was resting on the indents that she had just imposed, her question resonating through his skin. The single drop of doubt in her voice washed across him causing genuine surprise.
"No one. There's no one else Irina." He felt her smile and moved closer. Their legs already entwined. Her arm reaching across his waist. Skin pressed to skin. She moved further up his body settling in at his neck. His fingertips traced her spine.
"I walked into a chair."
"What?"
"The bruise. On my thigh. I walked into a chair. It wasn't from..."
"I didn't ask."
"No. You didn't." The drop of doubt drowned by something kin to hurt. He paused.
"A chair?"
"Yes."
"How is it the CIA hasn't caught you?"
Laughter flooded the room. "Shut up."
He lay his fingers against her ribs and held her tighter. "I should have asked." He kissed his apology into her hair.
She pressed an open mouth kiss against his throat as her acceptance. "How do you feel?"
"Better. Now. For now." She moved on to her back pulling him with her, his body covering hers.
"Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered the words against his mouth, each one a feathered kiss. Her legs cradled him, holding him in place as she awaited his answer. Silence permeated the room. His eyes swirled with pain and she knew the words would not be forthcoming. She reached up and traced underneath his eyes with the pads of her thumbs. "Its alright." It wasn't. But she wouldn't push him now. A thumb trailed down his nose and to his mouth. His gaze held hers as his tongue wet its tip before his teeth clamped down. She inhaled sharply. Pleasure and pain mingled and meshed.
"I know that..." she stopped to think, to choose words that would inform but not seek to excuse. "I can't ask you to believe that I didn't want to leave you and Sydney. I know that. But I need you to believe that I don't want to leave you now. I swear it." She closed her eyes in protection against his response. Silent prayers to whoever would hear her roared from her mind.
"I believe you." She kept her eyes closed as moisture seeped from under her lids. Her hand raised to cover them. She had never cried before him without the mask of Laura. Unaccustomed and uncomfortable she shielded herself, terrified that she would completely liquefy beneath him. Jack pried her hand gently from her face. "This isn't weakness." He kissed her mouth and whispered his belief again. Her eyes flew open as she surged against him. Her mouth found his as legs that had previously held him still stroked to encourage movement. Trust proving a heady stimulant.
When coherencey returned to them it was accompanied with the creeping light of early morning.
"When will I see you again?"
"Its too dangerous Jack." She beat across his attempt at protest. "And don't tell me otherwise. The last thing we need is for me to have to break you out of prison because the NSC suspects that you're working with your..." she trailed off.
"My wife." He finished for her. "And you can't. If anything happens, if they arrest me you are not to come after me." The severity of his tone thrust her into a sitting position.
"Don't be ridiculous." The little peace they had found began to dissipate.
"I'm serious Irina. You escaped CIA custody. You're number 6 on their most wanted list. If they caught you you'd undoubtebly be executed. If they caught both of us then who would find Sydney's killers? Goddamn it Irina."
"Goddamn you Jack! Do you think I could leave you to rot? You're not the only one that lost her. I've lost my daughter too. I won't loose you." Anger propelled her from the bed. She couldn't be next to him. A thought that did not translate as he stood to grasp her shoulders.
"Irina. Promise me. For her."
She shoved him with enough force that he landed back on the bed.
"Bastard." Her hands started to shake but the anger was gone. He was right. She knew it. She'd do as he asked and if it came to pass it would crush what was left of her. She grabbed for the top that she had been wearing earlier and put it on before reaching for her underwear.
"What are you doing?"
"Putting clothes on. I'm cold and tired. I left in a hurry and didn't pack anything."
"Take another shirt."
She stopped completely and stared at him. Stood above him in a state of half undress as the anger flowed back into her veins. "I. Don't. Want. Another. Shirt." She bit the words out. "I want my shirt. I want my daughter to be alive. I want my husband to not be falling apart and asking me to leave him in a prison cell." The shake started to spread from her hands, rocking the rest of her. He stood and took her in his arms, holding her against the shake, absorbing it into his bones.
"One year Jack. That's all you're getting. One year from today, I don't care where you are I am coming for you and all this stops. We'll lay our daughter to rest and we'll disappear."
"Irina..." If he had plans to the contrary she wouldn't allow them. She wanted his agreement now.
"Agree and I will come see you again in a week."
"Will you cook?"
She sagged against him and grinned.
There was no point worrying over things that hadn't happened.
One year. They'd be more careful.
They'd be fine.