Same Disclaimer Applies. The next few chapters have been written for a
while but I go caught without the saved file for a while. I promise to
update sooner next time...that is if anyone would like my too (evil smirk).
Hope you like it.
SYROS, GREECE
The evening progressed at a snails pace with neither Jack nor Irina speaking. Jack had asked if she wanted help making dinner and received no reply, prompting him to take up residence on the sofa in the living room and watch the news.
Without a word between them, Irina entered the living room and turned the power off on the television only to turn and walk out. Jack interpreted her actions to mean dinner was ready and sent a brief and silent plea out that she had not poisoned his meal. He was sure she had killed men for lesser evils than the one he had made her face a few hours before.
"This isn't going to kill me is it?" Jack raised a wary eyebrow.
Irina rolled her eyes and pursed her lips in disgust. "Of course not Jack. What purpose would that serve?"
Irina had taken their plates of food to the dinner room where they sat across from one another stoically. For a while the only sounds heard were those of knives and forks clanking against the flatware and the roar of the surf hitting the rocks below.
"Are you interested in talking yet?" Jack finally asked.
"I was never uninterested; however, you would likely not find any importance in what I have to say." She didn't look up from her meal.
"What did you do all afternoon? Usually when you're angry enough to leave you go for a walk but you took your car this time." Jack said nonchalantly.
"I drove into town. I spent most of the day shopping but you would have seen the bags in my room and deduced my activities, so was the question designed to back me into a corner or open up?" Irina glared at Jack and stabbed at her food.
"Neither, I just wanted to begin a dialogue." Jack ducked his head and muttered under his breath. "It seemed to have worked."
"As soon as you can understand Kashmir is not something we'll be having a dialogue about I'll be happy to converse." Irina relaxed into her seat.
"Fine. Kashmir is a closed subject." Jack nodded to which Irina sighed in relief. "For now." His tone held the promise of a discussion in the near future.
Silence blanketed the table once again; both occupants wondering who would brave the next topic.
"How's Sydney?" Irina asked with all the interest of a mother inquiring about the events of the day.
"Recovering. She was shaken after realizing the woman she thought to be her friend was an imposture." Jack stopped the fork full of food on the way to his mouth. "It's surprising how she continues to function with such compassion after all the betrayals she's faced." He shot the accusation at her.
"And her relationship with Michael Vaughn?" She ignored Jack's comment.
"They spent some time together in Santa Barbra and are in the process of moving in together. Frankly, I think they're moving too fast."
"Love waits for no one." A small smile graced Irina's lips.
"Irina Derevko, queen of the proverb. You seem quite content to dole out the relationship advice despite your history of unhealthy sexual accomplishments." Jack bit his tongue from saying anything further when he saw Irina tense. He was still hoping to get more information out of her.
"Think of me what you wish, but know that I only want happiness for Sydney." Irina answered venomously. Jack's response startled her.
"I know." He pushed the remainder of food around on his plate. "That may be one thing I can identify with you on. Both of us want to see Sydney happy and safe yet neither is very good at expressing without making her hurt more."
"Trying to protect her by keeping things from her only seems to tare at her more." Irina added.
"She keeps reminding us she is an adult. She has also demonstrated she can handle whatever life has to throw at her. It isn't healthy for her when we keep secrets from her." Jack continued the train of thought.
"We should tell her about the baby and your trip here." Irina stated with resignation.
Jack and Irina stared at each other, mulling over the idea with thoughtful expressions. They opened their mouths at the same time, speaking simultaneously.
"No." "I don't think so." Eliciting a gossamer smile from both.
"Where are you going?" Jack inquired when Irina stood from the table with empty plate in hand.
He followed her into the kitchen, depositing his plate into the dishwasher in a mimic of her own actions. She ignored his question, walking outside. Jack hurried after her as she climbed the first flight of stairs to the second level patio, then another to the flat roof.
White lights dotted the edge of the roof in the darkened sky. Ornate torches lined the back edge; coming to life as Irina lit them. An outdoor table set with umbrella sat in one corner while lounge chairs lined the front of the roof surface. Moving his gaze lower, Jack noticed the oddity. Rich green grass cover the roof like a sharply cut rug. It seemed so out of place for the island as even coarse thick blades were sparse.
"How did you get grass to grow on your roof, much less Greece in the summer?" Jack felt the smoothness under his bare feet.
"There's an intricate watering system underneath, keeping the roots damp." Irina explained. "I like to come up here and feel the soft grass underfoot." She smirked. "It's the little things."
Irina laid back on one of the loungers, cataloguing all the constellations. Jack took up residence on the seat beside her.
"Despite all the traveling I do, I forget how visible the stars are, everywhere but L.A."
"I like to come out here at night. With the sun gone and the breeze off the water, the temperature is perfect. It's my sojourn from time; I come out here and unwind from the stresses of the day." Jack caught the wistful element to her words.
"Why Syros? What made you choose it?" Jack turned his head to the side.
"The island is secluded enough that not may people would think to look for me here but it sees enough tourism to keep me from standing out. It's one of the few suburban islands in Greece, only beginning to draw tourists. Many of the people on the island own homes, wealthy people that come to get away from their own lives, none are interested in mine. The Army Base ensures no surveillance and few pictures by the visiting population. It's unassuming and secure but not vast enough to get lost. I don't think I could risk losing myself again." Jack felt there was a story there to be dissected later.
"And it had the most important feature of all: a hospital." She turned her head and returned Jack's gaze.
"Yes, I see how that would constitute a deal maker. But you couldn't have had the house built in the time you found out you were pregnant."
"You're correct. I built this right before I turned myself into the CIA. I was planning on living here once I got out of the intelligence field."
"What made you decide to turn yourself in at that particular point then?" Jack hoped she would shut down as before.
"In the more recent years, my organization has grown exponentially. It was quite sudden and demanded the majority of my attention. I had lost track of you and Sydney in that time." She took a deep breath. "When I encountered her in Tai Pei I realized how deep the waters had gotten for her. She had been treading in the open so long it was only a matter of time before she drowned. She needed help and she needed to get out, so I formulated a plan to do just that." When there was no indication she was going to carry on, Jack resumed asking questions.
"Why don't you have any guards posted? You're a target to many people including Sloane."
"I don't live in a fortress Jack, just a quaint house on the side of a mountain with others close by. Guards wouldn't be too inconspicuous would they?" Her lips curled with the sarcasm. "I don't need to be drawing attention to myself." She tried and failed at stifling a yawn. "I'm going to bed."
"I think I'm going to stay here for a while." Jack watched her get up from the chair, mindful of her extra weight.
"I'll put your bag in your room. It's the one across the hall from mine." She couldn't be sure but she thought she saw disappointment flash across Jack's eyes. "Goodnight Jack." She called before entering the sanctuary of her bedroom.
Jack stayed outside for a while longer, enjoying the play of lights in different parts of the island. He was having a difficult time reconciling the experience Irina had after leaving him with the images he had conjured up on the lonely nights he spent missing her. The events of the day caught up to Jack urging him to rest.
An hour had passed from the time Irina had gone to bed, surprising Jack; he had not noticed the passing time. Taking the time to lock up the house and turn off the lights the fatigue abated marginally.
While the four doors on the second floor had all been closed earlier in the day, the door across from Irina's room was open, inviting Jack in. The bedroom mirrored the décor of the rest of the house, with high ceilings, white walls, mahogany furniture and large pieces of art framed in gold.
Irina had not only taken his bag to the room, but laid out his sleepwear and put the other cloths in the closet or dresser. Perusing the items, Jack found quite a few things he had not arrived with; likely a result of Irina's trip into town.
As Jack lay in bed a barrage of images assaulted his mind. The tape he had so foolishly played earlier in the day was tattooed to his consciousness. Despite his experience being tortured and torturing others by request of Arvin Sloane, Jack felt his stomach rebel against the thoughts.
An irritated sigh escaped his lips and he lifted himself from the bed. Crossing the hall into Irina's room, he was careful to avoid making a sound. The moonlight gave Jack the means to make it to the side of the bed without walking into a piece of furniture but the details remained obscure.
He found Irina curled on her side, just right of the center of the bed. Her brow was furrowed and her jaw set harshly in sleep, gone was the aloof woman who feigned peace in a glass box. In her place remained a woman weighed down by the stress of her life and many others. A woman he had once cared for and if he was honest, still did.
Jack took a chance and lifted his hand to caress her face. Hoping his touch would smooth out the lines of worry and fear marring it. To his utter amazement, Irina's entire body relaxed further into the mattress as his palm made its journey from her hair line to her jaw.
The sense of wonderment vanished quickly, to be replaced by his own fear. Years of training and self-preservation should have honed her perceptions, awake or asleep yet she did not stir at his presence. With no guards to protect her or any sign of a security system to warn her, Irina was the proverbial sitting duck.
Jack sat at her bedside well into the night until finally returning to his own room in search of a moment's rest. If tomorrow turned out to be even half as eventful as today, he would need all the sleep he could get.
TBC
Please Review (-:
SYROS, GREECE
The evening progressed at a snails pace with neither Jack nor Irina speaking. Jack had asked if she wanted help making dinner and received no reply, prompting him to take up residence on the sofa in the living room and watch the news.
Without a word between them, Irina entered the living room and turned the power off on the television only to turn and walk out. Jack interpreted her actions to mean dinner was ready and sent a brief and silent plea out that she had not poisoned his meal. He was sure she had killed men for lesser evils than the one he had made her face a few hours before.
"This isn't going to kill me is it?" Jack raised a wary eyebrow.
Irina rolled her eyes and pursed her lips in disgust. "Of course not Jack. What purpose would that serve?"
Irina had taken their plates of food to the dinner room where they sat across from one another stoically. For a while the only sounds heard were those of knives and forks clanking against the flatware and the roar of the surf hitting the rocks below.
"Are you interested in talking yet?" Jack finally asked.
"I was never uninterested; however, you would likely not find any importance in what I have to say." She didn't look up from her meal.
"What did you do all afternoon? Usually when you're angry enough to leave you go for a walk but you took your car this time." Jack said nonchalantly.
"I drove into town. I spent most of the day shopping but you would have seen the bags in my room and deduced my activities, so was the question designed to back me into a corner or open up?" Irina glared at Jack and stabbed at her food.
"Neither, I just wanted to begin a dialogue." Jack ducked his head and muttered under his breath. "It seemed to have worked."
"As soon as you can understand Kashmir is not something we'll be having a dialogue about I'll be happy to converse." Irina relaxed into her seat.
"Fine. Kashmir is a closed subject." Jack nodded to which Irina sighed in relief. "For now." His tone held the promise of a discussion in the near future.
Silence blanketed the table once again; both occupants wondering who would brave the next topic.
"How's Sydney?" Irina asked with all the interest of a mother inquiring about the events of the day.
"Recovering. She was shaken after realizing the woman she thought to be her friend was an imposture." Jack stopped the fork full of food on the way to his mouth. "It's surprising how she continues to function with such compassion after all the betrayals she's faced." He shot the accusation at her.
"And her relationship with Michael Vaughn?" She ignored Jack's comment.
"They spent some time together in Santa Barbra and are in the process of moving in together. Frankly, I think they're moving too fast."
"Love waits for no one." A small smile graced Irina's lips.
"Irina Derevko, queen of the proverb. You seem quite content to dole out the relationship advice despite your history of unhealthy sexual accomplishments." Jack bit his tongue from saying anything further when he saw Irina tense. He was still hoping to get more information out of her.
"Think of me what you wish, but know that I only want happiness for Sydney." Irina answered venomously. Jack's response startled her.
"I know." He pushed the remainder of food around on his plate. "That may be one thing I can identify with you on. Both of us want to see Sydney happy and safe yet neither is very good at expressing without making her hurt more."
"Trying to protect her by keeping things from her only seems to tare at her more." Irina added.
"She keeps reminding us she is an adult. She has also demonstrated she can handle whatever life has to throw at her. It isn't healthy for her when we keep secrets from her." Jack continued the train of thought.
"We should tell her about the baby and your trip here." Irina stated with resignation.
Jack and Irina stared at each other, mulling over the idea with thoughtful expressions. They opened their mouths at the same time, speaking simultaneously.
"No." "I don't think so." Eliciting a gossamer smile from both.
"Where are you going?" Jack inquired when Irina stood from the table with empty plate in hand.
He followed her into the kitchen, depositing his plate into the dishwasher in a mimic of her own actions. She ignored his question, walking outside. Jack hurried after her as she climbed the first flight of stairs to the second level patio, then another to the flat roof.
White lights dotted the edge of the roof in the darkened sky. Ornate torches lined the back edge; coming to life as Irina lit them. An outdoor table set with umbrella sat in one corner while lounge chairs lined the front of the roof surface. Moving his gaze lower, Jack noticed the oddity. Rich green grass cover the roof like a sharply cut rug. It seemed so out of place for the island as even coarse thick blades were sparse.
"How did you get grass to grow on your roof, much less Greece in the summer?" Jack felt the smoothness under his bare feet.
"There's an intricate watering system underneath, keeping the roots damp." Irina explained. "I like to come up here and feel the soft grass underfoot." She smirked. "It's the little things."
Irina laid back on one of the loungers, cataloguing all the constellations. Jack took up residence on the seat beside her.
"Despite all the traveling I do, I forget how visible the stars are, everywhere but L.A."
"I like to come out here at night. With the sun gone and the breeze off the water, the temperature is perfect. It's my sojourn from time; I come out here and unwind from the stresses of the day." Jack caught the wistful element to her words.
"Why Syros? What made you choose it?" Jack turned his head to the side.
"The island is secluded enough that not may people would think to look for me here but it sees enough tourism to keep me from standing out. It's one of the few suburban islands in Greece, only beginning to draw tourists. Many of the people on the island own homes, wealthy people that come to get away from their own lives, none are interested in mine. The Army Base ensures no surveillance and few pictures by the visiting population. It's unassuming and secure but not vast enough to get lost. I don't think I could risk losing myself again." Jack felt there was a story there to be dissected later.
"And it had the most important feature of all: a hospital." She turned her head and returned Jack's gaze.
"Yes, I see how that would constitute a deal maker. But you couldn't have had the house built in the time you found out you were pregnant."
"You're correct. I built this right before I turned myself into the CIA. I was planning on living here once I got out of the intelligence field."
"What made you decide to turn yourself in at that particular point then?" Jack hoped she would shut down as before.
"In the more recent years, my organization has grown exponentially. It was quite sudden and demanded the majority of my attention. I had lost track of you and Sydney in that time." She took a deep breath. "When I encountered her in Tai Pei I realized how deep the waters had gotten for her. She had been treading in the open so long it was only a matter of time before she drowned. She needed help and she needed to get out, so I formulated a plan to do just that." When there was no indication she was going to carry on, Jack resumed asking questions.
"Why don't you have any guards posted? You're a target to many people including Sloane."
"I don't live in a fortress Jack, just a quaint house on the side of a mountain with others close by. Guards wouldn't be too inconspicuous would they?" Her lips curled with the sarcasm. "I don't need to be drawing attention to myself." She tried and failed at stifling a yawn. "I'm going to bed."
"I think I'm going to stay here for a while." Jack watched her get up from the chair, mindful of her extra weight.
"I'll put your bag in your room. It's the one across the hall from mine." She couldn't be sure but she thought she saw disappointment flash across Jack's eyes. "Goodnight Jack." She called before entering the sanctuary of her bedroom.
Jack stayed outside for a while longer, enjoying the play of lights in different parts of the island. He was having a difficult time reconciling the experience Irina had after leaving him with the images he had conjured up on the lonely nights he spent missing her. The events of the day caught up to Jack urging him to rest.
An hour had passed from the time Irina had gone to bed, surprising Jack; he had not noticed the passing time. Taking the time to lock up the house and turn off the lights the fatigue abated marginally.
While the four doors on the second floor had all been closed earlier in the day, the door across from Irina's room was open, inviting Jack in. The bedroom mirrored the décor of the rest of the house, with high ceilings, white walls, mahogany furniture and large pieces of art framed in gold.
Irina had not only taken his bag to the room, but laid out his sleepwear and put the other cloths in the closet or dresser. Perusing the items, Jack found quite a few things he had not arrived with; likely a result of Irina's trip into town.
As Jack lay in bed a barrage of images assaulted his mind. The tape he had so foolishly played earlier in the day was tattooed to his consciousness. Despite his experience being tortured and torturing others by request of Arvin Sloane, Jack felt his stomach rebel against the thoughts.
An irritated sigh escaped his lips and he lifted himself from the bed. Crossing the hall into Irina's room, he was careful to avoid making a sound. The moonlight gave Jack the means to make it to the side of the bed without walking into a piece of furniture but the details remained obscure.
He found Irina curled on her side, just right of the center of the bed. Her brow was furrowed and her jaw set harshly in sleep, gone was the aloof woman who feigned peace in a glass box. In her place remained a woman weighed down by the stress of her life and many others. A woman he had once cared for and if he was honest, still did.
Jack took a chance and lifted his hand to caress her face. Hoping his touch would smooth out the lines of worry and fear marring it. To his utter amazement, Irina's entire body relaxed further into the mattress as his palm made its journey from her hair line to her jaw.
The sense of wonderment vanished quickly, to be replaced by his own fear. Years of training and self-preservation should have honed her perceptions, awake or asleep yet she did not stir at his presence. With no guards to protect her or any sign of a security system to warn her, Irina was the proverbial sitting duck.
Jack sat at her bedside well into the night until finally returning to his own room in search of a moment's rest. If tomorrow turned out to be even half as eventful as today, he would need all the sleep he could get.
TBC
Please Review (-: