One Last Detail

Lisa sat very still next to Jackson, only beginning to absorb the horrific implications of what she had done for him. The pen, tucked into her waistband, jabbed her uncomfortably; a pathetic reminder of her helplessness. She had seen it on the floor on the way back from the bathroom; had grabbed it and shoved it into the top of her skirt almost without thinking.

Jackson had spoken very little to her after she had at last made the terrible call, and Lisa felt absurdly abandoned by him. And insulted that he had nothing further to say to her, now that she had done what he wanted. He used me… She swallowed hard and furrowed her brows at the seat in front of her. In the bathroom, as he held her against the wall, there had been the briefest moment when something had passed between them. A moment when she had seen not anger but a pleading desperation in his eyes; someone trapped in his own torment and anxious that she not make a bad situation worse. That glimpse of humanity in Jackson made everything else about him harder for her to accept.

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Jackson scrubbed a hand over his face wearily. He was tired, but relaxed. It had taken half the flight, but Lisa had come through, as he had known she would. She was, after all, a professional. Glancing in her direction, he studied her profile as she stared out the window. She had certainly kept him on his toes, but most of that had been his own fault for trusting her. For all her good qualities, she was a liar.

The incident in the airplane bathroom resurfaced in his mind, and he fidgeted at the humiliating memory. That moment when he had felt exposed, as if they were intimate. In one uncanny second, Lisa had somehow connected with him, seen him; something he never allowed in his life. Which she then had promptly trashed by lying to his face. That sort of disrespect was unforgivable. Just as well, he thought. It had jolted him back to business quicker than anything else could have, and given him a handy excuse to immediately cover his gentle slip-up with an appropriately angry show of force.

She probably doubted that he intended to leave her alive, which would explain some of her desperate acts. What would happen to Lisa after they got off the plane depended entirely on her behavior. But at the moment, he could do no more than promise her she would walk away. And he would keep that promise, if it were possible. He threw her another sidelong glance, which she ignored. There was one more thing he might attempt. Something that might serve him well in the future if need be…and only if he could persuade her. A last detail…

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Lisa put her head back on the seat and struggled with her desperate wish for Jackson to speak again. She hated him, yet dealing with his silence was more difficult than his words. With something akin to horror she realized that she missed talking with him. The tension between them was as if they were lovers who had argued and were deliberately freezing each other out - each hoping the other would crack first. She closed her eyes, noting how quiet the cabin had become.

"Come on, Leese," Jackson murmured. "Dr. Phil wouldn't want you to be so miserable over this."

Lisa's head came up off the cushioned seat; she opened her eyes and faced him again, his voice causing dread and gratitude to churn sickeningly inside her. "What do you expect me to feel?" she asked.

"Well, for one, you could try feeling proud. Or how about relieved? You saved your dad's life," he said. "You made the right decision."

"It doesn't feel right," she whispered, looking away.

Jackson leaned close. She did not dare turn to face him.

"A lot of things don't feel right," he said softly. "But they are."

Lisa stared out the window, afraid even to move as powerful, conflicting emotions assailed her. Is this Stockholm Syndrome? She wondered. Already?

She craved his attention, needed it, realized that she would panic if she lost it, all the while hating his power over her. Oh, God…

She felt her hair stir as he leaned closer still. "What you can't admit is that I'm the best relationship you've had in years, Leese. No matter what else we've done tonight."

Lisa shut her eyes as this knife of truth pierced her. It was horrible, but she could not deny it. Her throat tightened with anguish. "So what?" she hissed venomously, trying to ignore his closeness.

"What made you come sit beside me in the Tex Mex, Leese?" Jackson whispered. "Was it that I looked safe to you? Were you just tired of being alone so much?"

Lisa turned, at last looking him in the eyes. "What do you want me to say? That you did a great job pretending to be a nice guy? Does it make you feel good somehow - that you fooled me?" Despite her efforts to contain herself, her eyes burned with angry tears.

"No," Jackson said somberly. "I enjoyed every minute of our little conversation at the bar. And so did you. It's just that everything since has pretty well ruined it for you." His eyes moved over her face. "It's understandable."

Lisa drew back slightly under his scrutiny.

Jackson seemed to hesitate, then spoke again. "I didn't need to make contact with you before the flight. In fact, my higher-ups would probably have been pissed off that I did. Do you know why I did?"

Spellbound, Lisa shook her head.

"Because I wanted to."

The silence between them was charged; Lisa's eyes moved over his face in thrilled trepidation. He was willing to defy his superiors - killers - to have a drink with her? Almost too far-fetched to believe.

Jackson shifted in his seat to face her more comfortably, as if he had much to say. "I wanted to meet you, Leese. Get a sense of your personality; see what you were like. I couldn't resist. You made me go against my better judgment."

Lisa stared at him. Was this some bizarre sort of line? It sounded more like a confession.

Jackson lowered his voice more still. "I had my mind made up that I probably wouldn't like you. I guess I wanted to prove myself right so I would feel better about what I had to do. But…I did like you. You proved me wrong." He paused, and his eyes flicked away for a moment before locking with hers again. "So then… I just wanted you to have a good experience with me before I had to turn your night to shit."

Lisa chewed her lip. "What…are you saying you regret doing all of this?"

Jackson smirked faintly. "Don't take it that far." He paused. "I just wanted to remind you how you felt earlier tonight. When you liked me," he added with teasing sarcasm.

Lisa's eyes softened slightly. "Yeah..."

"You hadn't done that in a long time, had you, Leese?" Jackson said. "Taken a man's invitation to share a drink…let him buy…lower your defenses for just a few minutes…?"

Lisa shook her head and looked down at her lap.

Jackson reached out with a gentle hand and turned her face toward him again. "Were you interested in me?" he asked smoothly.

Lisa swallowed nervously at his hand on her face. "Yes," she managed to whisper.

Jackson bent to her, and it seemed all right that he did. She closed her eyes, unable to bear his gaze. His lips brushed hers softly. Then returned with more pressure, invitingly. Her lips trembled open slightly, and he responded with a slow, gentle exploration. The warmth of his kiss sent a shock through her. She weakened limply in her seat as Jackson leaned into her more, his tongue caressing hers. She heard him draw in a deep breath, and he slid his hand back into her hair, holding her at the nape of her neck.

His stubble was rough in her palm as she stroked his jaw…somehow her hand had ventured there. She moaned softly into the kiss, wanting more. Jackson moved closer still, and she rose to meet him, her hands ruffling his hair, luxuriating in its softness.

Lisa tilted her head back, forcing Jackson to break the kiss. In astonished pleasure, she gasped as he kissed her neck with tormenting slowness, licking and breathing huskily into her hair, warming her. Another soft moan escaped, beyond her control.

Dimly she was aware of her surroundings and the passengers around her, but they had faded to the edges of her consciousness. There was only Jackson… Jackson's gentle mouth on her neck…the warm scent of him…the sound of his exhalations in her ear, his breathing low and heavy in arousal.

His hand found her thigh, began to slide up over her skirt. Toward her hip, her waist…

Remembering what was tucked there, Lisa stiffened and opened her eyes. Terror flooded through her as she envisioned him feeling the pen in her waistband, and understanding exactly why she had hidden it there.

She felt Jackson pause. His hand ceased movement, though his mouth still lingered where her jaw met her neck.

"Sir." Quiet outrage emanated from the flight attendant as she stood over them.

Jackson released Lisa slowly, and sat back in his seat to face the attendant in mock contrition.

"Ma'am," the woman addressed Lisa, disgust in her features. She looked from Lisa to Jackson several times in silence, ensuring she had their attention. Finally she directed her dislike at Jackson. "There are children on board this flight," she said in a terse whisper. "If the two of you can't control yourselves for twenty more minutes, I will have to report this as a disturbance."

Lisa, flustered at what had just happened, scarcely heard the attendant's words. Her flesh still tingled where Jackson had kissed her; her heart galloped wildly in her chest.

Jackson ran a hand back through his hair. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again," he said silkily, prompting another withering glare from the attendant.

The woman darted a glance at Lisa, observing her flushed appearance. "It better not," she cautioned them, and moved away at last.

Lisa was reeling. Her body was on fire, and the sudden end to the heightening passion was disorienting. In disgusted horror, she became conscious of what she had just done, and the cabin seemed to tilt sideways as a slight dizziness overcame her briefly. In one selfish moment, she had given in to pure sensation, had forgotten who Jackson was. As he had wanted her to. She looked at him. When he had kissed her, she had been able to hear his desire in the sound of his breathing. Now he sat coolly next to her, unaffected.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered furiously. She wanted him to look at her, to acknowledge what had happened.

Jackson turned to her, his eyes narrowed slightly against the glare from the rising sun, and Lisa had never seen anything as beautiful as he was then. Or as terrible.

"The same reason you did," Jackson said simply. "Let's leave it at that, Leese." His eyes held hers for several heartbeats without a trace of emotion.

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Jackson waited for her rage, her disgust, for her to spit in his face, even. She merely turned away to contemplate the sunrise outside her window. He sat back, satisfied. Beneath his calm exterior, his heart was slowly resuming a quiet pace. He had not intended the kiss to play out as it had, had never expected it to escalate so rapidly…he had nearly gotten away from himself. His arousal threatened to return at the memory, and his eyes darted towards Lisa again. She had been every bit as excited, he knew. This was good.

He closed his eyes for a moment and imagined the flight attendant on the witness stand, if it ever came to that….

"No, I don't believe Lisa Reisert's version of events. Any of it. I certainly don't believe Mr. Rippner attacked her in the bathroom. I saw them afterwards, and they were all over each other in their seats…"

"Are you saying they were kissing?"

"Kissing, making out, yes."

"Could Mr. Rippner have been kissing Miss Reisert against her will?"

"Oh, no. She was enjoying herself. I had to ask them to stop…"

Jackson grinned to himself. One detail could set a man free. He never missed a detail.

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Lisa stared at the sun as it rose above the horizon. There would be no end to Jackson's power over her. Why did he kiss me? Her mind worked furiously, and suddenly his words came back to her…

"I just wanted you to have a good experience with me before I had to turn your night to shit."

Perhaps his sensual kiss was intended to be a final good experience for her... before he killed her. She closed her eyes. It made sense. She ran her finger along the length of the pen that protruded from her waistband. Now I know what to do…