The Perfect Weapon Chapter 2004: Part 4 Section 2

[camillecarelli]

Chapter 2004: Part 4 Section 2

Irina put her foot back down on the floor and held onto Jack’s arms. “Tell me all about it. Because I’m enjoying this new...pattern. That’s right, isn’t it? This kind of talking and teasing--”

“New patterns are good for us,” Jack agreed. Dropping his voice, he added, “As are old ones...” His fingers circled the lace-covered wetness the way she loved. “Now, the way I see it or rather, to be precise---”

“Precision is...” Irina caught her breath as Jack’s very precise fingers found just the perfect spot and.. “Oooh.. Good. Very good. Precision is wonderful.” She moaned and pressed herself against his hand and then groaned when he pretended to pull away.

“What were you saying about precision? Because I’m interested in the precise angle it would take for my---”

“Jack. Pay attention. You know how I like things all nice and neat and tied up--”

“We really can’t get into that particular fantasy of yours right now--- Ow!” Jack grinned when she bit his shoulder. “As I was saying when I was so rudely interrupted by moans and groans... The way I see it or rather to be precise the way I feel it...” Jack noted as his one hand continued to make smaller and smaller circles while his other hand went to her shirt and began pulling it up. “Is this. Option A. We can calmly make our way through the rotunda filled with junior agents and Kendall. And then we’d have to wait for the car because I sent Weiss to fill it up, when I'd really rather be filling you up---"

"Jack. The options..." Irina urged desperately, feeling the damp warmth of perspiration along her spine. If he kept talking like that she was going to climb on top of him and... Why was that a bad idea, anyway?

"Oh yeah, the car. Weiss is getting it washed. And he’ll probably stop at Krispy Kreme and we’ll have to wait. Wait to get out of here.”

“Blech. Bad idea.” She lifted her arms as he pulled the shirt off and tossed it somewhere. She’d worry about the mess later. Sometime. Whenever. She stretched her body against his.

“Exactly. Wait, make small talk, all the while pretending that we’re in no hurry to be alone-“ Jack trailed a finger down her the edge of her bra. Lace. Probably black. Oh well, he’d see it another time, he thought as he unhooked it with his other hand and tossed it aside. Somewhere.

“We could do that,” Irina scoffed as she impatiently pulled his tshirt free of his pants. “We’re both experts at dissembling-“

“Dissembling? Lying and acting. Let’s call a spade a spade. But are we both capable of doing that when every single last person comes up and wants to talk about your plans and my plans and Sloane and-“

“Oh shit. You’re right.”

“You said I was right?” Jack grinned. He moved his hands slowly from her hips over her ribs until they cupped her breasts. Lightly brushing his thumbs over her nipples, he finally said, “Of course, I am right. I’m always right.”

“Except when you’re wrong.” Irina shifted her feet, trying to find his. He had big enough feet, she should be able to find them and stomp on one of them with her heels... except... What his warm hands were doing to her breasts was very right indeed. And his mouth.. She moaned as he bent and teased her nipple with the warm wetness of his tongue.

“Of course. But the fact that I know I’m wrong means in fact that I am right.” He tickled the peak that was straining toward him with just the tip of his tongue. He had no idea what he was saying. Who cared? As long as she was happily annoyed, his job was done. Then sliding his fingers inside her panties, he changed his mind. His job was just beginning. Thankfully. There was a god.

Irina ground her teeth at his words and at the too-light touch of his fingertip. “You are so annoying!” Then ground them some more as Jack moved his hands away from her body. She put her hands out, seeking his, finding that he was slowly beginning to pull his tshirt off. If he was going to do a slow strip tease, she wanted to see it and it was dark so she couldn’t, so just get rid of the damn tshirt, she thought, shoving his hands aside and nearly ripping it from his body. “Options, Jack? Options! Sometime today, please!” She reached up, grabbed the shirt and threw it aside.

“Okay, so are we agreed that Option A is not the best way-“ Jack paused as his hands searched for the zipper of the skirt. Damn it, where the hell was it? On the side? They hadn’t put zippers on the side of women’s clothes in years and.. Oh, who the hell cared as long as it worked and slid...Yes. He had to get her out of those damn clothes before he shredded them, the way his control was completely shredding. He shoved the skirt down and she stepped out of it and kicked it aside.

“Yes. And Option B would be...” Irina smiled as she remembered that Weiss had their car. “I know. The car.”

“Yes. Good memories. You, me, a car.” Jack leaned forward to rub his cheek against his wife’s as he whispered, “Would you pull me in by my tie again?”

“If you want. The car is good, true. Back seat is done, trunk is done. But we’ve never done it on the hood of a car,” Irina noted, turning her head to capture his mouth in a long kiss. When their lips parted, she lifted her hair off her neck. “It’s getting warm---”

“Hot actually,” Jack said hoarsely as his fingers made a foray inside the lace that covered where he ached to be. Damn it, why was she even wearing these, he wondered, as he shoved them to one side of her and his fingers could freely touch what he wanted. And his ears, his very soul could hear her gasp of surprise and excitement before she clamped her legs together and held his fingers still.

“Is that right?” Irina asked with a smile in her voice as she slid her hands over the skin of his chest, brushing his nipples, hearing his slight intake of breath that she might have overlooked if she could have seen his eyes that would be warm, so warm and dark as he heated at her touch and allowed her to see it.

“Why yes. The car will be too hot by the time Weiss gets done running all over LA looking for the perfect glaze,” Jack shook his head. “Luckily for me...” Jack slid his finger inside his wife’s panties once again and smiled when he heard the sound her wetness under his fingertip. “I already have the perfect wet sweetness right here...Honey. Do you remember what I told you about why I call you that?...”

“Oh. My. God.” Irina moaned and felt the dampness between her legs ready her. Where was the table? Or the floor, that would be just fine. She’d even take the damn cot. Or the car... Damn, she was hot...

“Were you saying something? Was it about the car being too hot?” He reached down to his belt buckle and with the maximum amount of noise, unbuckled it and began to slide the leather through the loops.

“What? Oh, the car. I don’t know and I don’t care, Jack---” She listened and heard him unbuckle his belt, heard the slide of leather. Too slow, she decided and brushed his hands aside and shoved it all down, holding onto his shoulder when he kicked everything aside. Immediately, she pressed her nearly-nude body against his bare warmth and strength and smiled slowly when he groaned and pushed his hardness into her belly. “What were we talking about? The car hood? I could lean against it and---”

“Well, personally I’d recommend against the car hood because I’d hate for your round little ass to get hot from something other than my-“

“What makes you think it would be my ass on the bottom?” She teased, forcing her eyes open, although she could see nothing, could only seek and find him with her words, her mouth, her fingers, her... self. Although really, she would be glad to be on the bottom if it meant she could hold his ass in her hands. Honestly, she thought it looked better now than when he was a gangly young man. In fact... She slid her hands around to his backside and squeezed firmly. Da. Better now. Much better. “As I recall you always liked it when I was on top.”

Jack groaned. Did he ever like it when she was on top, but that table would probably not support his weight and hers. “Good point. Excuse me for failing to consider that option. I must be distracted.” He stopped when she began to laugh. The fact that her hands were sliding around to his front was purely coincidental to his distraction, no doubt. “But my other objection to Option B would be the question of location. Because today’s CIA has much more surveillance and as I recall from the last time in a parking garage-“

“I get the point...”

“As I recall, you have three...” Why the hell couldn’t he shut up, he wondered. Why was he talking so much, teasing... Why was she? This was.. new. A new pattern. Or just a new way to lose control and...yet to connect at the same time? Another damn paradox. Or was that irony or... who the hell cared, he told himself, stop trying to get control and let go. Life is messy. Let go, he told himself and bent down to take one hardened little nipple inside his mouth and suckle on it hard enough to demonstrate to her how much he wanted her.

Irina gasped as his mouth took her over and over, sent her spinning toward the edge. She delved her fingers into his hair and held on as his passion began to make her head spin. “Jack... hurry...please.”

“If that’s what you want.” He pressed their mouths together again, wrapping his arms around her, holding on.

“If it’s not too great a sacrifice.” Irina tilted her head back and groaned when his mouth began traveling down her neck and then found that spot below her ear that... She shivered and tried to pull him back into the glass cell.

“You’re going to be a sacrifice in about thirty seconds,” Jack said huskily, lightly biting her ear lobe, and feeling her shiver against him.

“What do you mean?” She rubbed her hands up and down his chest. So warm, she thought, then felt her body flash with heat at his next words.

“You’re going to be spread out on the table...” He stopped when her fingers clenched on his chest and his body clenched harder and harder at the image in his mind. Then he shook his head. “But then again, you’re not the sacrificial type.”

“Nyet?”

“No. Too strong. You are...” Jack smiled, remembering the night they had made Sydney. “The ultimate temptation for me, the combination of strength and softness. The warmth...the passion. Everything in you calling to everything in me without saying a word.”
“How?” She asked breathlessly, trying to focus through the haze in her mind, to find words that would make his heart pound the way his had done to her.

“By this...” Jack brushed his fingertips across her nipples. “Two of those hard little points that don’t lie.”

“Maybe I’m just cold, lying there naked, waiting for you on top of that table... My legs spread apart...” Irina smiled slowly when she heard him gasp. Ha. Gotcha, she thought. Words. Jack was susceptible to words. Talk, she told herself. Yes, of course. That was one difference now. They were talking, endlessly. A new pattern, she supposed, forged in those months when all they could do was talk.

“Go on. Your legs are spread apart.” Jack slid his hand between her thighs again and lowered his voice as he began to rotate his fingers before asking, “Waiting for me?”

“Yes, my legs are spread apart...” She shifted her legs further apart to accommodate his hand, then swallowed hard before continuing. “I’d be wearing those stockings you like so much --”

“And the heels?” Jack asked eagerly.

“Yes, of course.” Irina smiled, knowing she had worn heels tonight for a good reason. "The stockings and heels and nothing else. So I might just be cold with the cool air drifting across warm flesh...”

“Hmm. Maybe. But maybe you’re also calling to me without saying a word because your legs are open and I can scent your desire on you...”

Irina gasped. This new type of seemingly-endless word game was dangerous. To her ability to stand upright, that is. “Damn you, Jack!” She opened her legs wider, inviting him inside. Jack hissed in a breath and with suddenly impatient fingers tugged on the side seam of her panties. "Don’t rip them!" Irina put her hands over Jack’s to halt their movement. Ha. He thought he could tease her?

"Why not?" Jack groaned. “It’s quicker to rip them--”

"Because...” She paused to think. She actually liked it when he ripped her underwear in his need and haste but pushing Jack was really much more fun. How far could she push him? “I like them and they’re new and--"

Jack blinked. "What?! Who gives a shit! Only a woman would care about that. Just buy another pair!"

In a contemplative tone, Irina mused slowly, just to irritate, "Besides what would I do with ripped underwear? I’m not leaving them in a wastebasket over there in the corner. Carry them out in my hand?"

"I can put them in my pocket." Who cared, Jack thought, trying to push her back in the general direction of the table. If she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself against that glass wall or the floor. The floor would do in a pinch. The cot was small, but hell, they’d done it in the back seat of more than one car and that cot in Dave’s family’s cabin and... What was she doing with her hand? Oh no, she was cupping him and moving her hand over... He groaned and pushed into her hand. Thank god it was the right size.

"They might make a bulge. The boys would see the bulge in your pocket, or Kendall and--maybe we should just go home--"

"Now, she decides to get modest? I think not! And let me explain to you that if you don’t get those panties off right now the bulge they’re going to see in my pants--"
"Okay, okay!" Irina bit back her laughter. This was... She liked it when he was demanding, she remembered as she wiggled around pretending to take off the panties. But then again, he liked it when she pushed back. Casually, she suggested, "Let me take off my shoes and stockings--"

"Are you insane? That’s a waste of time and.. “ Jack pushed the panties down over her legs and then slid his hands back over her silk-clad legs. “Besides. Leave them on!"

"Convince me why I should,” Irina ordered, her hands biting into his shoulders as he began to raise up. Oh what the hell, she decided, and bent forward and took a sharp nip from his shoulder and sighed happily. He tasted good. She should have done that first thing. Screw the document, screw the fact that Judy was standing there, screw it all. She should have just shoved off that damn suit and bitten him, shown everyone that he was hers. Hers... Her thoughts trailed off as his mouth moved up her stomach and up over her torso before giving a nip, a stinging little bite to just the tip of her nipple. She gasped and he did it again to the other breast, then went back to the first one.

“Convince me why I should what?” Jack asked, rubbing his face between her breasts, feeling her heart pound under his cheek, and the swing of the puzzlebox necklace and the key she wore against his forehead.

“Why I...um, should leave on my stockings and heels?” Irina asked, her hands skimming over his body, feeling, touching all that warm skin that was heating for her. And...she sighed as her hands captured his hardness, this was for her too.

“Hmm. Let’s see...” Jack smiled as he bent his head and began to lick her collarbone. “If you leave those stockings on that I love and those high heels and I’m imagining you sitting on this table wearing just them, with those long legs of yours wrapped around me, I might be inspired to...”

“To what?” Irina asked, closing her eyes, seeing the picture he was painting in his mind. Their new house was definitely going to have mirrors on it again. “Mirrors, Jack. I liked those mirrors. Can we---”

“Whatever you want. Later. Right now...

“Right now, I’ll do whatever you want. So, Option C....”

“Is the cell. Hmm. C, the cell. Alliteration. Which as you know...”

“I know, a word game. And I can think of other words that begin with ‘C’....” Irina clamped a hand over her mouth as a giggle, so ridiculous, she thought, at her age, began to erupt.

Jack laughed softly. Had they ever laughed this much, talked this much before when making love? This new pattern was... a new start. “I have a better game than a word game.”

“Do you? Do tell.”

“It’s called a do over game. That’s what you want, right? A do over? If you’d been honest, true when you’d come back...” He slowly lowered his head and began suckling on that spot on her neck that always.. Yes. And if she didn’t say yes soon... “Tell me.” He pulled her hand down from his hip and began rubbing it over his hardness until she took over and he groaned once again. "Don't stop," he whispered.

“Yes, yes...” She moaned, tilting her head back. “Yes. If I’d told the truth. To myself first. What I wanted. What I wanted the minute I saw you standing outside that cell. I wanted you in here with me, locked in...”

“Did you want me locked in the cell or inside....” Jack slid his hand down and cupped her between the legs. “Or do you want me locked inside you?”
Irina gasped softly and felt her legs begin to tremble. It had been too long, she was so... emotional, she admitted, and she wanted him so much. “I need to sit down or lie down. Now.”

“How fortuitous, there’s a table over there. Somewhere.” Jack reached behind him and slammed the glass door shut, enclosing them within the transparent shell of the cell.

Irina smiled as she turned to face the direction of the table. Had she left that glass of water on the table or not? “At least you didn’t break that glass---”

“If you’d waited about two more seconds, I might have. And then...” Jack sighed. “We both knew it would have been over because you have a weakness for broken glass, don’t you?”

“What I have a weakness for - and don’t tell me that I just dropped a preposition...” Irina stopped when she felt Jack’s hands sliding over her hips and pulling her back against him. She shivered, she always liked that and... if she tilted her rear end up like this... Yes, she thought when he pressed forward. Then groaned when he withdrew and gave her a gentle push forward.

“You didn’t drop a preposition, you dropped your train of thought.” Get to the table before I lose it, he thought, pressing against her.

“Oh, shut up and ---”

“I know your weaknesses, anyway,” Jack murmured into her ear, making her shiver once again as he pulled her back against his front. “Like this position. Do you want to lean against the table and...”

“I want the table. Now.” Irina grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

Together they stumbled forward in the dark, Jack laughing softly when she banged into a corner and cursed at the sharp, if insignificant pain. “Did you hurt yourself? Do you need me to kiss it better? Is that what you need?” Jack asked in a whisper as his hands slid up, up, up her stocking-clad leg until it reached the warm skin above the lacy edge. “Where do you need a kiss? Where do you need me? Do you want me?”

“Yes...I want you.” She ran her hands into his hair and licked a line from his heart up to the base of his throat.

“That’s not good enough.” It’s not good enough because I need you so much, he thought as he pushed his body against hers. I’m losing it, losing it... Jack circled her waist with his hands and rubbed his thumbs against her skin.

“What do you mean?” Irina twined a leg around his, rubbing the stocking against his skin, pulling him toward her. She stopped all movement a moment later when he lowered his tone and began using what she had always thought of as ‘that voice’.

“You have to need me inside you....”

She opened her mouth to swear in frustration at him, then closed it. No. He needed something. He needed her to need him. Luckily she did, just as she always had even if she had not admitted it. Just tell him, she told herself. He needed to hear and she needed to admit it to him and herself. Some other time she could torment him this way; some other time it would be her turn to tease and tempt. But now... She smoothed her hands across his shoulders. “The truth is... I need you, Jack. Now.”

“Good. Because I need you too. So much.” Jack let out a deep breath. Irina listened carefully, heard his harsh breathing. Jack took her hands and put one over his heart and the other around his hardness. Leaning into her, he thrust into her hand and rasped out, “And because, the truth is... I have to tell you that I am losing my ability to control myself.”
She gasped. That was why she hadn’t recognized the look in his eyes. She had really only seen it once before. Gasping again, she blurted, her hand tightening, “We don’t have any stairs.”

“I do like the way your mind works,” Jack said, feeling the heat inside him grow to the point of discomfort. “And no, unfortunately we don’t have stairs here and that cot is too small. But we do have a table. If you’ll remember, we’ve used a table before---”

“I remember!” How could she ever forget the sight of him holding up that glass shard and coming toward her to shred her red dress?

“Good.” Jack lifted her onto the table. “That time we were on a table and made something new, something important. Our daughter. Now, this time we’re making something else new, something important---”

“Our future,” Irina finished, pulling him close to her, pulling him between her legs, feeling his flesh meet hers. So close, but not close enough. Taking his hands in hers, she leaned back and pushed their joined hands out to the side. Too late, she felt that abandoned water glass and began to pull away. Then she whispered, “Jack...The glass...” She felt rather than heard his intake of breath, remembering the last time he had shattered a glass in this cell, all the memories flooding back, the hope for the future flooding them as their senses were swamped with the feel, the taste, the scent of each other and together, hands joined, they pushed the glass over the side of the table with a sharp shove.

At the sound of the glass shattering, they both stilled.

The sound of the tinkling glass and spilling water flooded them both with memories of the past that swirled like the turbulent waters at the bottom of a fall. Grasping, needing each other to stay afloat, their hands clenching and kneading and clutching, their mouths seeking and their bodies finding each other,

“Shatter me, honey, shatter me again,” Jack groaned, his face against her neck, the web of her hair and the warmth of her embrace holding him tightly to her.

“Again?” Irina asked, winding her legs around his hips and pulling him toward her, slowly, so slowly. In the darkness she felt as if all time was suspended, that it was just the two of them inside the invisible walls of glass. Together. And together they would shatter all the glass that surrounded them and find freedom.

“The way you did when I saw that note, that pardon agreement. That evidence of your love... it broke a wall of glass that had been surrounding me...”

“You told me that...” Irina gasped. Telling her that meant he must trust her. A gift. He had given her the gift of trust. One she had sought with her rewritten agreement, rewriting the marriage contract as he had termed it once in anger, transforming the anger into trust. She closed her eyes, whispered a silent thank you to whom she could not say. “Thank you for telling me that. Thank you. Now. Come to me,” Irina whispered, pulling at him with her arms, her hands, her legs, her mouth, her body. “I need you. And we’ll shatter together.”

“This. This time...Inside you. Please. Now.”

“Yes, yes,” Irina gasped as she pulled him into her. He slid into her slowly, belying the tremble in his legs and the thudding of his heart. She lifted her hips up, meeting him, hoping he knew that she was trembling too. They both sighed as she enveloped him, as he fit himself inside her as if he would never leave. Winding her arms around him, just waiting, feeling the stillness of the dark around her as her head began to spin with colored lights, she tilted her head back, searching for him. “You told me... You promised...”

“Yes...” Jack gasped, feeling himself lose control in a sudden burst of light behind his eyes
“You said that if you had a horizontal surface and some time you’d make me see stars.”

“And...” Jack gasped as he pushed and she pulled in unison. “I do, do you?”

“Yes, yes. Now, now...” Irina moaned and moaned again when he pulled her up to press against his warm, damp body, taking hers as she was taking him.

Quickly, so quickly that the pleasure was almost a jagged pain, they moved together, the sharp sliding sensations overwhelming them until they both toppled over the edge in a shower of sparks and landed somewhere, someplace soft. Each other’s arms, each other’s hearts.

“Home. I’ve come home, milyi.” Irina whispered the words into his throat, then his ear, then against his lips.

“Welcome home, honey,” Jack whispered, pressing his lips to her heart. “Welcome home.”

Reluctantly moving apart, Jack put his hands on her hips and steadied her as she jumped off the table.

“Wait!” Irina ordered and reaching a hand out, groped around and found a chair and hauled it close. “Sit down--” She pressed his shoulder and he sat. Now, he could take directions, she fumed. Any other time and it would be an argument and that would be... So much like her Jack, she’d be thrilled. Unconsciously, her hand moved over his shoulder and down his chest, caressing the warm skin beneath her fingertips.

Jack captured her hand in his and brought it to his mouth for a soft kiss. “Honey, give me a minute. I’ve told you before I’m not twenty-three anymore--”

Irina began to laugh. “No, listen, you idiot. The glass. I don’t want you to cut yourself and I have shoes on. Stay still and I’ll get you your clothes.”

“Ah. Okay. I’m not moving.” Jack closed his eyes. The imagination was almost as good as seeing. Almost. Maybe he should get up and find that light switch...

Irina paused as she picked up Jack’s shirt and shook it out. Feeling something under her feet, she bent down and carefully handled a slice of glass. “Wait. Why did you just accede so easily to what I said?”

“To what you ordered, you mean? Let’s be precise---”

“If you want to be precise, I’m holding a shard of glass in my hands--”

“Having a good time for yourself? Because I’m having a fine time here by myself imagining you in those heels and stockings and nothing else bending over...”

“You’re doing what by yourself?” Irina snapped and flung the glass aside, then took a step, then another in his direction. Hands reaching out, she found his shoulder. Putting her other hand on his other shoulder, she straddled him and sat down on his lap. ‘Let me tell you something...” She slid forward as his hands closed over her hips and slid down over her rear end. What had she been talking about?

“This is a good position, honey. Very...” Jack lifted his hips in her direction as he bent his head and slid his mouth up her neck. “Nice. But I’d really rather try it out at home. Wouldn’t you?”

“Where? Why? Here is...” Irina sighed when she felt Jack’s legs brush against the tops of her thighs. “Here is fine...” Irina began to pull Jack’s hand forward when she heard a faint sound. “What’s that?”

“Huh? What? Nothing. Don’t worry about it...” Jack urged, continuing the slide of his hand between her legs. “It’s just some early staff---”

“There are people coming IN?” Irina gasped.

“I could come in again, if it gets you that excited,” Jack offered, glad the darkness hid his smile.

“Oh.. Shut up!” Irina slapped his arm and stood up. Scrabbling around in the dark, she found his clothes and shoved them into his hands. “Get dressed and let’s go.”

“Sure, honey. But you might want to get dressed too. As much as I’d really enjoy seeing you walk around like that, I don’t think I want anyone else to see---”

“Damn it, Jack, you distracted me!” Irina tried to sound annoyed, but the laughter of happiness bubbled up and overflowed. She didn’t bother to contain it and wasn’t quite sure she would have known how anyway - after all how much practice had she had at containing happiness in the last two decades?

“Happy?” Jack asked as they finished dressing and carefully exited the dark cell. Knowing where the switch was, he reached out and flicked it on. As light flooded the corridor, he squeezed the hand Irina held out to him, before bringing it to his lips for a kiss. Reluctantly letting it go, he asked again, “Happy?”

“I had almost forgotten what happiness was,” she told him, joy lighting her face as they walked out of the prison without a backward glance.

“I had too. My memory book seemed...surreal. But now, I’m ready to open it and start a new one,” Jack smiled. Of course one of those pages would include Sydney’s upcoming hissy fit, but what else was new? Talk about someone needing a new pattern.

“Me too,” Irina agreed, then pointed to the end of the corridor. “It begins---”

“It did the moment you chose a different path in Panama--” Jack stared at her, then straight ahead. A new path lay ahead, indeed. Who knew what today and all of the tomorrows would bring?

“And faced myself then and again, in that warehouse? Yes.” Irina looked up and saw Jack glance over at Sydney’s desk. Speak of someone who needed to face some hard truths, their daughter---

“Speaking of facing someone... Ready to face them? Our colleagues?” Jack wasn’t sure how to act. Like his usual self? That didn’t feel right. But... Oh, just play it by ear, he told himself. You can do this.

“I am if you are.” Irina checked his face. He looked fine, his mouth was a little tight, but... “Loosen up, Jack or they’ll think I merely pushed that stick higher up your butt.”

“What?” Jack stopped and looked at her before a smile lit his face. “You got me.”

“Not right now. But later, I have hopes.” Irina smiled and touched his arm. Striving for lightness, feeling Jack’s anxiety as he no doubt wondered what the rest of their lives were going to be like, starting right now, Irina said lightly, “Right now, however, I’m just hoping that Weiss did buy some Krispy Kremes, even if they are full of fat and calories---”

“Don’t worry about it. Calories are necessary when one has a high-energy day ahead.” Jack looked down at her and raised one eyebrow.

“Oh. And do I? Have a high-energy day ahead?” Irina asked archly, deciding to ignore the annoying eyebrow trick. For now.

“Well, let me tell you about a head that has high energy today...” Jack began.

Irina surprised herself when she burst out laughing in front of Jack’s, no -- their colleagues ahead of them. “Jack...” She shook her head. “Stop it. Really, I am hungry.”

“Are you? Hmm. I didn’t hear your stomach growling in there, but then again I was hearing all sorts of other interesting sounds coming from you like --- Oomph!” Jack grunted as the flat of his wife’s hand connected with his stomach. “So... You’re hungry?” Jack asked. Apparently this new life involved his wife smacking him in public. That was like Laura.

“Yes. Since I really didn’t eat much dinner last night. Too...nervous. I was nervous...” She stopped when he drew her behind a column, shielding them from view. To her surprise, she felt his hand soothing her hair and after ensuring that no one was watching them, leaned into his touch.

Jack shook his head in surprise. She had actually admitted to being nervous. That wasn’t like Laura. Nor was it the Irina he had seen in the glass cell in the past. In the past she would have died before admitting that, as she had denied it on their wedding day. He continued stroking her hair the way he knew she liked, thanking her, rewarding her for her honesty and enjoyed this quiet moment. “What were you saying?” he finally asked softly. Hearing the sounds of Kendall, Weiss and Marshall not far beyond them, he spoke up quickly, thinking to relax her as they moved forward again. “You’re hungry? Because I could easily give you something to eat. If you want to try out a new location we can go to that little cubicle where I shaved--”

“Humph. I think...” Irina slanted a look up at her husband’s face, then blinked when she saw the happiness on it before he smoothed it out to a more noncommital visage. When she winked at him, he looked down and smiling, said, “Well, I suppose it’s back to work now.” He turned on his cell phone once again.

“Look at Jack,” Marshall whispered to Weiss as the couple began to cross the rotunda in their direction. “Was that an actual smile or---”

“I’ve got nothing to say,” Weiss whispered back. “Kendall’s right there and we don’t need to encourage him to say something stupid.”

“Yeah, he’ll probably do it on his own,” Marshall agreed, brushing powdered sugar off of his tie.

“I can hear you!” Kendall protested, touching his nose. “And I think I’ll just keep my mouth shut for the moment.”

“Well, that’s too bad, because I have a question,” Marshall began. “I mean, why fur? Why pink fur? It doesn’t seem very...manly to me. I mean I can’t see Jack in pink fur...” Marshall broke off when Weiss began to choke on his donut.

“Jack in...pink...fur...cuffs?” Weiss laughed. Very loudly. Then seeing Jack’s narrow-eyed, suspicious gaze, he got himself back under control. “Nah, they’d be black. Leather. Not pink fur. Doncha think?”

“Why don’t you ask him about it?” Kendall sniped, pointing toward the man himself. “I’m keeping my mouth shut. I’m not that stupid.”

“Too bad! If you asked him about his preference in cuffs, well, I missed watching you get punched the first time---” Weiss asked, reaching for another donut. “Wait - does anyone want this last sprinkle one?”

“Not me. These are chocolate sprinkles and I like the multi-colored ones, don’t you?” Marshall asked, peering at the donuts as Jack and Irina walked up to them. Everyone stared into the box as if it held a secret code as they all tried to determine the best way to proceed in the circles of new relationships surrounding them. Weiss handed Jack his car keys. Irina stared at them and began worrying the key around her neck as Weiss once again watched her.

“Weiss...” Jack began and then looked at Kendall and Marshall in turn. “I hope you understand how much I’d appreciate it if you - and everyone - would refrain from saying anything to anyone---”

“You mean Sydney and Vaughn,” Weiss nodded.

“Yes. Until we -- she and I -- have a chance to do so,” Jack said firmly, glaring at Kendall, who nodded and amazingly, said nothing. Somehow he didn’t think he was going to have the same lucky response from Sydney. Somehow his ears were going to be burning after that conversation, he knew.

Kendall cleared his throat. “I’d just like to say that I won’t say anything and...good luck with that, Jack.”

Jack eyed Kendall. “Well, thanks. And in case you’re wondering, no hard feelings, Kendall. I don’t carry grudges after all.”

“Yeah, right,” Weiss said holding up his coffee cup in a mock toast. “And neither does Syd. Nope, not at all. Like she’s forgiven you for missing her ballet recital when she was seven.”

“You know about that?” Jack asked, wincing. Hmm, he would need energy to get through the upcoming conversation with his daughter, he decided and looked down at the donut selection.
“Yup. Vaughn had to hear about if for an hour one night, which meant I got to hear about it. Can’t you just give her some kind of blanket apology, Jack?”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that?”Jack grimaced.

“Wellll, this is not going to be a piece of cake, then is it?” Weiss smiled at the donut in his hand. “Not like these. These are light and fluffy.”

“So they are,” Jack agreed with a gleam in his eyes that made Irina brace herself. It was coming. Then he grinned and bent toward his wife, “Look at that. Donuts. Round circles with holes in the center. I wonder what it would be like to lick the glaze---”

“Jack!” Irina gasped, feeling her face turn pink even though she knew no one had heard him. Weiss looked amused. Marshall looked confused. Kendall looked away.

“Jack,” a voice said and they all looked up to see Devlin.

“Devlin.” Jack nodded and took the other man’s hand and shook it, wondering at the bemused expression on Devlin’s face. “You’ve been apprized of the situation with my wife---”

“Yes, yes, of course. Dr. Barnett, Kendall, the Intelligence Committee. It’s been a busy twenty-four hours for us all.” Devlin shrugged. “But I’ve been in this business a long time. ‘There are stranger things on this earth’ or something like that.”

"'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,'" Jack began.

"'Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Act 1, scene five." Irina finished.

“Hamlet,” Jack and Irina said together.

“I’d forgotten that,” Devlin nodded at Jack, who was still smiling. “I’d also forgotten what it’s like to see you smile at work. But I’ve heard from Dr. Barnett that you’re doing very well these days and now with your wife back, I expect I’ll be seeing more of the old smartass Jack back.”

“Until he talks with Sydney,” Weiss mumbled, his mouth half full.

“Ah yes, Sydney. Good luck. She’s...” Devlin stopped, trying for diplomacy. “A gifted agent, but, well, she’s...”

“A spoiled brat,” Irina finished, stating what she thought was the obvious.

Weiss choked. Irina slapped him on the back. Devlin shook his head and left the room, knowing that life was going to get more interesting in this division. And that Sloane’s life would no doubt cease being interesting very soon. Death, after all, wasn’t terribly interesting. He looked back over his shoulder, wondering just how the Bristows would close that circle. Torture of some kind would no doubt be involved. Of a kind that Sloane had probably never dreamt of in his own little twisted philosophy.

“Honey, the donuts?” Jack prompted. “Eat now, because I don’t intend to stop on the way and I don’t have anything at home---”

“Not even bread for toast?” Irina asked automatically as she walked up and looked into the box as well, her hand hovering without settling on any one donut.

“Pick one. It’s not a Rambaldi puzzle,” Jack told her. “Just a box of donuts.”

Irina shook her head to clear it as she looked at the brown of the chocolate sprinkles on the white box. She felt her face tighten as something so close to the edge of her consciousness teased her. She focused, holding her necklace, ignored Weiss bantering, albeit hesitantly, with Jack. Then it slipped away. She grimaced in frustration. “Just thinking...”

“Geez, Jack,” Weiss whispered. “I thought she’d be more relax---” Weiss took a quick step away. The look on Jack’s face was enough to freeze his nuts for...Well, who cared, his nuts weren’t getting any action anyway. He needed a life. He needed to get home, that sounded reasonable. He needed to walk his dog anyway. And too, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be here when Sydney got here. But...He looked at his watch again. Damn it, he needed to check on Sark again. “Jack, about Sark---”

“That little flying monkey is a never-ending source of irritation---”

“Why do you call him that? Flying monkey?” Kendall asked.

“Wizard of Oz, right?” Marshall piped up. “Because she---” He nodded toward Irina.

“Because she’s the Wicked Witch?” Weiss grinned. “Tell me, does she---”
“Stop now or die,” Jack hissed. Weiss backed up a step, then groaned when Jack smiled. “That was fun,” Jack turned to say to Irina.

“Evil man, isn’t he?” Irina asked conversationally. “I like that aspect of his personality.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Weiss asked of no one in particular. “But seriously, Jack, why flying monkey?”

“Well, it has to do with the Wizard of Oz, only it wasn’t Laur- Irina’s obsession with it.”

“Oh. Dave,” Irina surmised, then frowned. “But...what?”

"Well, it's... a long story and... " Jack shook his head. “Project Christmas---"

"I thought I knew everything about Project Christmas," Irina said sharply. There was something.... There. Something just beyond her grasp. The harder she tried to piece it together the more it eluded her. She had to tell Jack. It was pressing on her now that they were together again, as if this something had been waiting.
Jack grinned. "Not everything. And I know nothing about the Soviet version, so..."

"You know Sark, which is probably enough," Kendall interjected.

"No kidding. He's such a ....weasel," Weiss agreed.

Jack frowned and pushed a memory away. "No, he's a monkey, flying species because he never seems to get caught." He caught his wife's curious eye and mouthed, 'Later' at her. They still had much to discuss, many memories to revisit and reflect in the light of their new start. "But Eric, I’d appreciate it if you’d talk to him and if he won’t talk, then...” Jack sighed and with a sideways glance at his wife, told Weiss reluctantly, “Then call me. But do your best first, if you--”

“I get the drift, Jack,” Weiss said as blandly as possible.

“Good self-restraint there, Weiss,” Jack said, equally blandly.

“I’m a-working on it. It’s my mid-year resolution---”
“I thought your resolution was to only eat four donuts at any one time,” Marshall interjected.

“Life is short. Therefore eat the carbs first.” Weiss finished off his donut.

“Did you mother embroider that on a pillow?” Kendall asked.

Irina watched everyone talk and forced herself to relax. They all seemed...okay with her presence. Weiss had even joked with her earlier. Kendall, thankfully, was being quiet. And Marshall was being Marshall. Jack looked fine, more relaxed than she had seen him in this office before, although... She looked down at her hand, still feeling as if he were holding it when they’d shoved that glass over the side. Smiling, she shrugged and grabbed a donut at random and bit into it. “Oh, these are good.” She licked the sugar from her lower lip and held the donut out to Jack. “Want a bite?”

Jack bit back a groan and pointed to Weiss. “Is that car loaded up?”

“Yup,” Weiss answered. He would bet the man wanted to get home to some real privacy. “Gassed up, washed, loaded, ready to go.”

“How much do I owe you?” Jack asked, reaching for his wallet.

“Forget about it!” Weiss shook his head. “Consider it a sorta rewedding gift? For you and...I’m sorry. What do you want to be called?” he asked Irina.

“Hymie, I’m going with Hymie,” Kendall interjected without thinking.

Jack smiled and Kendall relaxed. Slightly. “Hymie. I do like that one. That’s one option---”

“Here we go,” Irina said to Marshall, rolling her eyes.

“There’s Chickie,” Jack offered.

“I absolutely forbid---” Irina began.

Marshall held up his index finger as he suggested, “Well, you could do a form of hyphenation as it were. Or would you call it a hybrid? Or an amalgam or a consolidation or--”

“Did Marshall swallow your thesaurus, Jack?” Irina asked sweetly with raised eyebrows.
“Jack’s thesaurus? No, his man---” Marshall bit off his words as both Weiss and Jack’s feet connected with his shins.

Irina’s eyes narrowed and she swallowed the last bit of her donut. “What’s going on?” She knew she wasn’t going to find out now, but she could make Jack nervous. And then she’d torture him later.

“Nothing!” All of the men answered in unison, then looked away from each other.

“Marshall,” Jack began, clearing his throat. “You were going to suggest a name---”

“Yes! How about combining your two names -- Laura and Irina into Lorena?”

“Ha. I suggested that in Panama.” Jack nodded. “I vote for that.”

“It’s my name!” Irina protested, putting her hands on her hips. “And I’ll---”

“Weiss, you were saying?” Jack interrupted. He just wanted to get home and he had the feeling that Irina would argue about this forever. He also had the feeling though that she’d been enjoying that conversation. When was the last time she’d had a friendly, meaningless conversation with coworkers? Hell, when was the last time he’d had one? He leaned toward her and whispered, “Sorry, I cut you off. You were enjoying this, weren’t you?”

“Yes, you idiot. I was trying, with these people that will be in my life, to feel my way---”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Jack said apologetically, but spoiled it by changing his voice and lowering the tone of it as he told her, “But I’d like to get home and have you feel your way around---”

“Eric!” Irina spoke up rapidly. “You were saying?”

“Oh, yeah.” Weiss grinned. Irina looked flushed and...happy. Jack looked more alive than he had ever seen him. Who would have ever expected that spending time with Jack and Irina would be so amusing? Although he should have expected it from that Mexico City transcript. The two of them created a whole that was greater than the sum of their parts. Together they were...different. He had no doubts they could and would be logarithmically scarier together too, but right now, they just looked...happy. Whodathunkit? He shrugged and smiled as he told them, “Excuse me for not answering in full and complete sentences. I got distracted.”
“He does that,” Irina noted, with a sideways glance at her husband.

“Let’s go, already!” Jack urged.

“Wait. Eric and Marshall... Thank you for everything,” Irina said softly. With a sidelong look at Kendall, she shrugged. “You...had your moments as well, I suppose. And Judy, where is she, anyway?”

“She said she’d seen...enough, I think and went up to work on some headache of a file,” Marshall told them innocently.

“Gee, can’t guess what that would be,” Kendall muttered. “Speaking of which, maybe I could use another aspirin.”

“If you want something stronger, Jack has a bag o’ drugs in his car---” Weiss told Kendall.

“You do?” Irina smiled. “Still have the shovel and---”

“A shovel?” Kendall asked, perplexed. “Why a shovel?”

“Welll, you never know when you’ll have to dig a hole, bury something,” Jack began when his phone rang. He groaned. “Talk about digging a hole. It’s Vaughn.” He narrowed his eyes at Weiss. “Did you--”

Weiss held his hands up. “I said nothing. I know nothing. Nothink, nothink.”
“Hey, isn’t that Colonel Klink---” Marshall began.

“No, Klink would be Kendall. All he needs is a monocle. Maybe you should have used that instead of the eyepatch...” Jack answered absently, taking a step to the side to answer the phone as the three other men debated about Klink’s assistant’s name and Irina looked bemused, then shrugged and took another donut. “Vaughn, is anything wrong?” Jack asked. “Is Sydney okay?” he asked and everyone paused to listen.

“She’s fine.”

“She’s fine,” Jack told everyone and nodded as the three men moved off, arguing the merits of Hogan’s Heroes versus Gilligan’s Island. “Sorry, I’m at work and everyone wanted to know how she was. Where are you?”

“Still at the hotel. Syd’s in the shower. She takes the world’s longest showers and..” Vaughn groaned silently. What a stupid comment and Jack would no doubt let him know it was stupid.

“Surely you didn’t call just to inform me of my daughter’s hygiene habits?”

“I, no. I just wanted to confirm, I guess, that you told Sydney you’d talk when she got back home.” Vaughn looked out the window and shifted his feet. They or rather Sydney had woken up early, which meant he had woken up early and... He frowned. And he had a feeling it was going to be a long day.

“Yes. I told her that. And before you ask, I meant it. I also want to, need to talk to you when you two get back to town,” Jack said firmly and noticed Irina’s sudden stillness at his words. He nodded and pointed at her and mouthed the words, ‘You too.’ She grimaced and nodded slowly and took a sharp bite of her donut, before seeming to become distracted by those sprinkles again. Clearly, she needed to be sleeping, Jack decided, if she was focusing on sprinkles.

“About what?” Vaughn asked, standing up straight. He didn’t know why, but then again, he often found himself doing that in Jack’s presence. Not that Jack was here, but...No wonder Sydney spent so much of their free time thinking about her father, he had that effect. “But why---”

“Why did you call, Michael?” Jack interrupted him.

“She’s...” Vaughn sighed. “Syd spent an hour talking about talking with you before going back to sleep and now she’s woken up and or...”

“Yes?” Jack prompted, striving for patience.

“Jack, I don’t know how to say this and you’re probably not the person to have this conversation with, I mean with whom to have this conversation, right?”

“Yes, points for proper English. But what is it? I’m somewhat busy today... “ Jack ignored Weiss’ smirk as the man came back for another donut and then stopped to stare when Irina snatched the donut away from his descending hand. At the rate she was eating, she was going to achieve her Laura weight in the next week. But he wouldn’t say that to her; it was a no-win situation for a man to talk about his wife’s weight.

Vaughn said in a rush, “I think she’s going to work herself into a state worrying about what you’ll say and what you won’t say and...”

“And...” Jack ground out. “Just spit it out. Time is precious and---”

“It’s just, do you know how many of our conversations revolve around you?” Vaughn blurted out, then cringed as he looked in the direction of the bathroom. Good, the shower was still going full blast.

“What?” Jack hissed, his eyebrows raised.
“You heard me.” No way was he going to take the chance of repeating that truth, Vaughn decided. It wasn’t as if there was anything wrong with Jack’s hearing. The guy seemed to know everything anyway.

“That’s...not good.” Jack sighed. That was a vast understatement. He wasn’t going to get grandchildren if his daughter kept yakking about her father. Talk about a mood killer, if one wanted to, which he did not, thank you very much. Then again, the two of them had better get married before he was a grandfather or some man would be having no other children.

“I know that! That’s why--- Oh, forget it.” Vaughn rubbed his furrowed forehead.

“No. I won’t forget it. You felt strongly enough about this to call me. And it’s not like we make appointments to have phone chats about the latest episode of our favorite soap opera. So, why did you tell me this?”

“I... don’t know what to do. I need some advice.” There, he had said it. Vaughn let out a long breath and sat down on the bed.

Jack stared at his phone and then asked incredulously, “You’re asking me for advice? My life is hardly an example of good relationship dynamics.” Then seeing Irina’s glare of death, he amended, “Up to now anyway.”

“No, but...”

“Michael, I... “ Jack swallowed. What a day. He’d started out with a dream about life from death. His wife walked back in. Sylvester had tried to panic him and he had passed that test. Been surprised and shocked and found someone to catch him. Made love in the damn glass cell in CIA headquarters. Watched his wife eat how many donuts?

And now Vaughn was asking him for the kind of advice for which he should be asking his own father, except that his father was no longer available. He rubbed his face. What a mess. What else could happen today? He twisted his mouth. He should never ask that question, really. Anything could happen, anything at all. Firming his lips, he offered, “The best advice I can give you from hard-won experience is to be honest with the people you love. And with someone like Sydney---”

“What does that mean?” Vaughn asked truculently, knowing he had no reason for his defensiveness. If Syd was so easy to handle, he wouldn’t be talking to her father, of all people!

“I love her. But she’s like her mother...” Jack grinned as he heard a nearly-silent “Humph!” come from the woman next to him. “Strong-minded, strong-willed. And if I’m being completely honest, like her mother she’s somewhat self-absorbed.” Jack smiled at Irina’s glare, before resuming his conversation. “I’m sure Barnett would tell you this, if you want to talk about it with her: That honesty is important. As is respect. You cannot let her ignore what you say. Not if it’s important. And if you’re being honest, then it is important.”

“I see.” Vaughn looked at the closed bathroom door where the shower was still going. “What you’re telling me is that I let her push me around?”

“Sometimes, I think you do. And maybe that works for you, but I honestly doubt it will work long-term. You’ll set up a pattern that won’t be effective permanently because at some point when you finally find something important enough to take a stand on, she’ll feel as though you changed the rules on her mid-game.”

“Mid-game?”

“The game between a man and a woman. Start as you mean to go on. Just be honest with each other. Respect each other and you’ll be on the right road. That’s...” Jack sighed and smiled as his wife patted his arm encouragingly. “That’s a good start on your journey together.”

“I... Thanks, Jack. I appreciate it,” Vaughn said softly. “Maybe...maybe we can play hockey again sometime?”

Jack stared blankly at nothing for a moment. “I.. Yes. If you want to, that would be... Great. I will talk with you when you come home. I promise. Bye. And...good luck. “ Jack nodded and hung up the phone with a deep sigh. Irina squeezed his arm, idly noting the astonishment of the three other men. She withdrew her hand - perhaps Jack wouldn’t like that public demonstration, but he hadn’t pulled away and... She rubbed her eyes tiredly. “Let’s go,” Jack urged and sent Weiss back for Irina’s purse.

“Hey, guys, why is there shattered glass all over the floor in there?” Weiss asked as he returned and handed Irina her purse.

“A little accident,” Jack shrugged, not meeting his wife’s eyes. “If you could make arrangements---”

“Sure,” Kendall agreed. “We need to get ready to move Sark back into there anyway.” Then he grinned. “You sure you don’t want to wake Sark up right now and interrogate him yourself, Jack? I’m sure it wouldn’t take more than an hour or two or three and you have nothing else to do today---”

“Unlike you, who I believe has to probably make a trip to that fetish store you frequent over on Hollywood Boulevard and pick up some new trinkets, Sylvester,” Jack said with a small smile as he and Irina began walking away.

“Oh! Is that where you got those pink fur handcuffs?” Marshall asked. “Because....”

“What was that phone call about?” Irina asked. “From Vaughn. How bad is it going to be, do you think and---” She bit back a yawn.

“Let’s go,” Jack suggested, leading the way to the parking garage. Walking toward their car, Jack told her, “Michael’s sick of Sydney, well, I guess the word is, obsessing about her relationship with me. He doesn’t know what to do about it. I think he wants us to sort it out so that they can move on to the next phase of their lives.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Irina agreed, touching the key on her neck chain as Jack unlocked her car door. Then she smiled, “So, will I find the lock to this key at your place?” She slid inside and sighed. These leather seats were comfy, in fact and perhaps another time...

Jack sat down and reaching over, clipped her seat belt closed. Lightly brushing his hands across her body, making her smile tiredly in remembrance as he touched the necklace, he whispered, “Let me tell you that we will be matching up a lock and key at our place.”

Irina shook her head. “Well, then, let’s go home,” she urged, pointing toward the exit of the parking garage. Jack nodded and put the car in motion. Reaching the exit, they both blinked in the sudden burst of golden sun on a bright summer day that blinded them just as a seagull swooped in front of the car. They blinked, then looked at each other and laughed softly. Putting the car in park, Jack leaned toward his wife, who was leaning toward him. “You blinked?” Irina asked with a soft smile.

“Yes. Kiss me,” Jack demanded, even as his lips met hers in a soft kiss that she thought she might have dreamed if she hadn’t opened her eyes and looked into his.

“Let’s go home,” she said once again, feeling his love like a warm blanket covering her as she closed her eyes and began to drift off to sleep, her mind still swirling with all that had been and would be. Could be. She had to tell Jack, ask him how she or rather, Cuvee, could have come to have the charm. She touched the puzzlebox necklace and opening her eyes, touched Jack’s leg. “Infinite possibilities?”

Jack’s eyes dropped to the necklace. “Infinite,” he agreed as they drove off into a day full of promise and potential.

TBC at