The Perfect Weapon Chapter 2007: Part 1 Section 1 of 2

[camillecarelli]

Chapter 2007: Part 1 Section 1 of 2

Yasmina’s eldest daughter turned up the wick on the small oil lamp inside their tent. Dave blinked as the light hit his eyelids. He opened them slowly and smiled at the girl. So bright. So much promise. She should have been long since married, but Yasmina had held out hopes for something different for her and persuaded her husband to delay accepting the marriage offers. “Genie lamp...” Dave whispered.

“I know!” The daughter turned and smiled. “Would you like me to hum the ‘I Dream of Jeannie’ song?” she asked. Her English was the best in the encampment and spoken with a light British accent. “From the story about the man who went to the moon and then came home to find something much more amazing in a little bottle in the sand?”

“Yes. That story. That song. That would be....” Dave sighed and closed his eyes and concentrated on the blonde in the television show. What was her name? He couldn’t quite remember and feeling a touch of fear, asked quickly, “Can you hum it to me, please? Maybe it would help me sleep again.”

“Happily,” the daughter whispered and sank down to her knees next to her Uncle Daoud, as the children called him amongst themselves. She began to hum, glad when he relaxed and stopped shaking.

“Do you remember, Vaughn, on the trip home from Kashmir last time? We played Screw Your Neighbor?” Sydney asked hesitantly. Her mother had told her to push, but then Vaughn had erupted over the stupid song and now... But then again, Vaughn’s outburst had led to her father talking to him and Vaughn seemed calmer now. Maybe it needed to get messier before it got better?

“Yeah, I remember. I won.”

“Yes.” Pushing onward, Sydney continued. “And that song - remember, even my father sang?”

Vaughn nodded and reached out for Sydney’s hand and smiled at her when she relaxed. “Yes, he sang. “ After Irina had manipulated Jack into doing so, Vaughn thought but did not say. Perhaps, ‘cajoled’ was a better word. Yes. “Your mother cajoled your father into it, as I recall.” Then he smiled naturally. “I never thought I’d see Jack singing. I could have filmed it and sold copies to Ripley’s Believe It or Not.”

“Jack really did sing?” Weiss asked, nearly dropping the cards he was shuffling.

“Clearly, Houdini’s genes have passed you by,” Vaughn noted as Irina grabbed the cards from Weiss. “We sang. Sydney was all hyper about some memory of them camping and singing songs based on geography or something.”

“I was not hyper!” Sydney huffed. He wasn’t remembering the story properly at all!

Sark said softly as he watched Irina shuffle the cards, “I don’t think that unless you’ve experienced memory loss that you can understand the... completion one would feel at closing a circle, Agent Vaughn. Any circle. No matter how seemingly inconsequential.”

Sydney nodded. “Yes, that’s a very good way of putting it...Sark.” How odd and how annoying that this...snotty little brat would understand how she felt. But then again... She spoke up quickly, not wanting to feel any connection with Sark. “But, we were remembering this time we went camping and we tried to find songs about every state--”
“A geography lesson?” Dixon surmised.

Irina nodded. “Of course. Once a teacher...” She smiled and shrugged as she straightened the deck of cards. Sark stared at her. It was true. It was when she was teaching that, for more than five seconds at a time, she’d almost relaxed. In another life, would she have been happy as a teacher? In another life, what might he have been?

“I can’t think of very many geography-based songs myself,” Sark commented. “Clearly a deficit in my education, Irina.”

“That’s shocking," Jack drawled. "Given that I can think of two that came from a movie, which was always one of Laura’s obsessions.”

“I don’t have ob...” Irina trailed off when everyone looked at her. She put down the deck of cards. “Okay, I do. I admit it. That is the first step, nyet? My name is Irina Derevko and I have a tendency toward obsessing about...things.”

“Welcome, Irina!” Everyone chorused. Vaughn looked shocked that he had done so. Sark looked confused. Again. Weiss and Dixon both shrugged. Sydney gave a quick, tired giggle. Jack touched his wife’s hair and smiled at her. She was getting tired too, he knew, hearing her use the word, nyet and ‘things’. She was never so imprecise, but it had been the world’s longest day. Until tomorrow that is.

“Is there a twelve step program for this?” Irina asked, touching her husband’s hand as it smoothed her hair. “Because as I recall you were very good with steps---”

“AHEM!” Jack choked. “The movie, honey, with two state songs---”

“Oh, that. I’d really rather talk about a twelve-step program---”

“What twelve-step program?” Sydney interrupted.

Seeing the panic on Jack’s face, Irina relented. First, however, she scooted closer to her husband and allowed her hand to accidentally brush against his thigh as she told Sydney, “There are two from the movie, ‘The Music Man,’” Irina noted. “Remember?”

“Oh!” Sydney laughed. “You’re right. I’d forgotten about that. You knew them then. From the movie, I guess?”

“Yes. Dave had taken me to see that movie at the theater that played revivals. He loved that movie because---”

“He was from Iowa! I remember. Originally, his family was from Iowa!” Sydney exclaimed. “There was the song about being from Io..way and being stubborn--”

“You sure you’re really not from Iowa? Honey?” Jack asked as he picked up his wife’s large hand that seemed to cover far too much of his upper thigh, especially those fingertips that really were--

“Stubborn? Who, me?” Irina asked, trailing her fingertips across Jack’s hip as she helpfully removed her hand from his leg and then slid it around his back, searching for.... Good, an opening! Keeping a bland look on her face that didn’t fool her husband or, she thought, Weiss... She narrowed her eyes at him and he looked skyward. She stuck her finger in the gap between Jack’s shirt and his pants and widened it to allow her whole hand to touch his skin.

“Stubbornness may be what’s helped him stay alive all this time,” Dixon suggested.

“And a desire to live long enough to kill Arvin,” Jack suggested, leaning back into Irina’s hand as it stroked the bare skin of his back above his pants. No one could see that, could they?

“How do you intend to trap Arvin?” Dixon asked. “I have a vested interest, as well.”

“So you do,” Jack agreed. “I think...I’ll be using my ace in the hole. Or not in the hole, actually.”

“Cut the cryptic comments,” Weiss called out. Then seeing the look on Jack’s face, he added, “Please. I mean. Cryptic -- haven’t we had enough of that? I mean, Rambadli is bad enough..”

“Agreed,” Jack nodded. He looked off for a moment, toward the window of the plane facing him. It would probably be best to set this game in play. He didn’t know if it would prove to be the end game of choice. “Just in case...” He stopped when everyone looked startled. A small smile teasing one corner of his mouth, Jack shrugged. “Yes, I do say that, don’t I? But just in case, I’ll tell you all that I intend to use Arvin’s greatest personal weakness.”

“Greatest personal weakness?” Sydney repeated. Then her eyes cleared and she shook her head. “Dad. No. Tell me you’re not going to use---”

“Emily,” Dixon said flatly. “Somehow you’re going to use Emily.”

“Yes.”

“But---” Sydney protested.

Jack held up his hand. “In this type of game--”

“Every weakness is exploitable,” the group chorused. Jack rolled his eyes.

“Apparently I need to devise some new phrases,” Jack said, rolling his eyes.

“Not when it works,” Irina told him.

“Would you have used Irina’s weaknesses against her?” Sark asked, even as he wondered what they were. “If she had chosen differently in Panama?”

“Of course,” Jack said swiftly. “Why wouldn’t I? She used my every weakness against me.” He winced when Irina dug her nails into his skin.

The guard stepped inside the tent and stomped his foot. It would have been more impressive had there been a floor instead of dirt beneath his feet. Someday, he vowed, he’d stomp his foot and people would notice. Although his wife would probably still ignore him when she felt like it, like now. “Yasmina!”

Yasmina looked over her shoulder. “Yes? How is your head? You took a nasty spill in the cave.”

“Yes, after you knocked me in the head with the hilt of your knife!”

“Is that what you think? I think you are delusional.” Yasmina pressed Daoud’s hand in warning when he gave a soundless chuckle. A second later he lapsed back into unconsciousness.

“You think....? Ack!” After twenty years of marriage, he knew when to quit. “Before -- Did I hear him say the word,” the guard paused and then forced his lips to form the foreign name. “Jack?”
“Jack?” Yasmina shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

“Our benefactor warned me---”

“What do you think Daoud would do to our benefactor were he free?”

“I think, nothing, myself.”

Yasmina scoffed. “Pfft. He would kill him.”

“What? Daoud?” The guard shook his head. “He is too gentle, this American. His head in the clouds, with his talk of movies. Interesting, but not real. A soft life, he has led, in that country... But this Jack--”

“Jack?” Dave mumbled, his head rolling back and forth. “Where are you?...”

“Jack?” The guard asked sharply, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at Daoud’s words. He’d never heard Daoud mention the name before, but now... “Our benefactor warned me of a Jack, showed me a picture--”

“A picture? From one of those magic...” Yasmina searched for the English word. “Cameras?”

“I do not know! And I do not care! He showed it to me to warn me. Of this Jack. Of a swift and brutal attack mounted by this Jack coming from the sky that could leave our camp, all of us, dead.”

“Did he? Dave’s friend, Jack.” Yasmina nodded. “His....” She made an X in her palm and then rubbed her hands together. “Blood brother.”

“Blood...” The guard looked at the blood-stained bandages in the laundry pile to the side and whitened as he thought of his children. “Blood brother? He said nothing of this! You know of this and I do not?” He stared at his wife, whose lined face was unreadable. “We should move Daoud back to the cave,” he said harshly, making a move toward the tent entrance.

“Do not be foolish,” Yasmina whispered. “It is night. Dark. No moon. You and the others will surely break your necks trying to maneuver him into the maze of that cave. I know you are wise enough to realize that tomorrow will be soon enough.”

His wife was correct, but he hardly needed to admit that aloud, the guard thought. “I am also wise enough to remember that you hit me with something...”

“Do not be foolish. I, hit my husband?” Yasmina opened her eyes wide. Then she shrugged. “But if I had, it was only to protect us.”

“Protect us?” The guard scowled.

“Yes. You do not realize how sick Daoud was. What would have happened to all of us had he died? Our payments would cease and our children might starve!”

“And that is exactly why I want to move him back into the cave! If this Jack comes--”

“What will be, will be.” Yasmina bowed her head. “The will of Allah,” she said piously. Lifting her head she looked out toward the unseen eastern horizon, thinking that she was supposed to face west, toward Mecca for prayers. Daoud was a nonbeliever, she knew. Someone who believed, she also knew from his stories and his tales of these movies she had never seen but in which she had faith, in choices and making one’s own destiny. A belief she admitted to finding appealing even if she had trouble understanding how Daoud could make his own destiny trapped in a cave for so long.

Irina smiled. “The problem being that I have no weaknesses.”

“Really?” Jack reached out and touched his fingertip to Irina’s breastbone. Leaning down to whisper in her ear, he asked, “Passive transmitter ring any bells? Or was it just the jets on the hot tub that rang your bell? Ow!” Jack rubbed the back of his arm, where Irina had pinched it a little harder than was strictly necessary. Irina smiled smugly and picked up the deck of cards again.

“Can I die now?” Sydney mumbled and covered her red cheeks with her hands. She hadn’t heard a word and didn’t need to in order to read lips and really, she had to learn to stop doing that around her parents. She looked around and noted that Weiss, Vaughn and Dixon had studiously begun talking about baseball or something else equally boring. Sark looked alternately bored too and...almost anxious. What was going on with Sark? Ever since the protocol he’d been different. Almost human. Almost, oh hell, likable. In an annoying-to-the-point-of-wanting-to-slap-way, that is.

Sark looked around at the circle of people who might very well shape his life or death and decided that the clear confines of the glass cell were less attractive by the minute. He had nothing to lose after all by trying Jack’s suggestion. He cleared his throat and nodded at Sydney. “Jack told me I should apologize and--” He stopped at the arrested look on Sydney’s face. “Is there another problem, princess?”

“He...Never mind.” Sydney shook her head as she had a sudden sensation of weightlessness and a swift memory of her father’s face rushing at her. Oh my god. She covered her mouth. “I jumped off a roof once,” she whispered to no one at all.

“You what?” Sark asked, when no one else said anything.

“When I was six. Right before my mother...pretended to die...”

“Left.” Irina said sharply and held up a card she smoothly pulled from the deck. “I left you two. Call a spade a spade.”

“There’s also abandoned, deserted, forsaken--” Jack interjected. At Irina’s irate look, he shrugged. “Just giving you some vocabulary options.”

Sark grinned. “Because he’s all about the options, Irina.” Ha. He had made a joke. An inside joke.

“I’m going to give you some options!” Irina growled, grabbing Jack’s shirt collar and giving it a little shake. When Jack raised his eyebrow and looked pointedly over her shoulder at Sydney, Irina glared at him, but said more calmly as she released his collar with a little pat. “It wouldn't be forsaken in that sentence, by the way. It would have been ‘I forsake you two.’”

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t it be, ‘I forsook you two’?” Jack continued, unable to resist as his wife’s tired face contorted with anger. His gaze dropped downward and as soon as he gave her a small smug smile, Irina hissed in a breath and brought her knees up to her chest.

“Um, well. Do go on with your story, Sydney,” Irina suggested, sliding the queen of spades back into the deck.

”Um, okay,” Sydney said slowly. “I forgot how you two liked to argue about words.”

“Oh, I love word games,” Irina said in a low voice. “It was often the only way to....” She paused and lowered her voice and deepened her accent while staring straight into Jack’s wary eyes. “The only way to....sa-bo-tage...Is that how you say that word, Jack? Sa-bo-tage? The only way to sabotage one of your father’s games--- Hey!” Irina laughed as Jack vaulted to his feet and grabbed her arm and pulled her up.
“Excuse us!” Jack growled as he tugged Irina across the hold of the plane.

“Where you going?” Weiss asked, picking up the cards Irina had scattered when she’d gotten up.

“We need to have a little discussion about the game in play,” Jack noted, before pushing Irina into the bathroom and shoving the door closed with his foot.

“I bet,” Weiss said under his breath, hiding his smile until he saw Dixon raise his hand to cover his own smile. “But I don’t think there’s anything little about it...Oomph!” Weiss grunted as Vaughn’s elbow hit him in the ribs. He rubbed his stomach. Too much Happy Family for dinner. Or had it been lunch?

“I can’t quite believe she permitted him to--” Sark began, staring at the closed door. Did he actually hear laughter coming from behind it?

“Oh, I don’t think she permitted him,” Weiss said.

“No, she didn’t. She wanted to go with him,” Vaughn agreed. He remembered another flight and watching Irina...well, she had wanted Jack, or at least to touch his hair. Who was she, this woman?

“She...did?” Sydney asked, squirming uncomfortably.

“Ah.” Sark nodded. “The game between a man and a woman.”

“Yes.” Dixon took his hand away from his mouth. “The best game.”

“Irina said---” Sark bit off his words as he realized Sydney was looking at him expectantly.

“What? What did she say?” Sydney asked curiously.

“Well, princess...” Sark counted. One, two, three, four and there, yes, she kicked at him. Good. At least someone acted like he was alive. “If you insist upon knowing, she once told me that the best game between a man and a woman was the chase game.”

“Really?” Sydney stared at the closed door. “But she didn’t...”

“I think the point is that you let yourself be caught on occasion,” Sark suggested. “Or so she said.”

“Well, now, you’ve got me here inside this little box from which I cannot escape...” Irina slid her arms around her husband’s neck. “What are you going to do to me?”

“There’s not much room to do anything...” Jack frowned, lowering his lids to hide his eyes. “We’ve already established that I’m too big and you’re too loud. But then again...”

“But what?” Irina asked eagerly, arching into his chest as his hands pushed up her shirt, slid against her bare back and pressed her into him. “What could we do?”

“This,” Jack whispered a second before his mouth swooped down and captured her eager lips with his own. In another second, he was unable to tell who had captured whom, nor did he then, as ever, care.

“So, princess, continue your story since it appears that your parental units are otherwise occupied--”
“They are not!” Sydney looked away from the closed bathroom door to glare at Sark. He must be the most irritating boy, man, whatever, on the planet! He was confusing her.

“They are too!” Sark gestured toward the bathroom, wondering what the hell he was doing teasing Sydney. Well, it was amusing and passed the time anyway. It was better than trying to remember the last time he'd teased a girl. Had he ever teased a girl? “What do you think they’re doing in there?”

Sydney squirmed around. “They’re...talking or something but---”

“You are either amazingly prudish--”

“There’s no room in there anyway!” Sydney exclaimed, slapping the floor of the plane.

“Or, second option. You are totally lacking in imagination...” Sark smiled, just to see Sydney’s face turn red.

“This is not how I imagined our first night together would be...” Irina sighed and nuzzled into Jack’s neck.

“Oh? Did you actually use your imagination for once?” Jack turned his head and nudged her face up with his nose, then teased her lips with his mouth. “Tell me. Since we can’t do much in here except talk and this...” He let out a small breath when she took over the kiss and teased his mouth with small, tempting forays of her tongue.

“Actually...” Irina bent forward and bit his shoulder through his shirt. In a quick movement, she flicked open the buttons of his shirt and then bent forward to lick the faint marks she’d left on his skin. “I used my imagination multiple times while we were separated.”

“Oh? Tell me how you did--” Jack trailed off as he tunneled one hand through the silk of her hair and twisted it around his hand.

“Well, one involved finding you in the shower...” Irina licked her lips and opened Jack’s shirt wider. She licked a path along his collarbone and then raised a fingertip and ran it through the moistness. “All wet and--”

“That wasn’t what I meant.” Jack pulled her up against him.

“No. Clarify yourself--” Irina rubbed her body up against her husband’s and cursed the small space and the timing.

“Did you do yourself with your hand or with a battery-operated--?”

“Jonathan Donahue Bristow!” Irina slammed Jack’s shoulders back into the door.

Thud.

“What was that?” Weiss asked, looking back over his shoulder.

Vaughn looked down. Sydney looked pained. Dixon looked away. Sark looked amused. His mouth quirking up into a smile, he shrugged. “Do you really want an answer to that question, because I can see Sydney does not--”

“You’re making me remember how much I hate you,” Sydney noted, staring at him coldly.

“You’re making me remember the option B version of my shower idea,” Irina warned.
Jack lifted his hands from her waist and cupped her breasts. Squeezing them gently, he noted, “I don’t think I heard Option A and as you know...” He lightly pinched her nipples and licked his lips when they hardened instantly. Thank god for lightweight bras. “I like to be fully apprized of all of my options.”

Irina pressed her breasts into his hands and rubbed against his palms. “Harder. That’s what I want. Do it.” She waited until he molded her flesh in his hard hands. “And I think you’re missing the point. If this is my fantasy, therefore you would have had no options.”

“I see. In this fantasy you didn’t want me to have a choice because... Okay, what would I have done? In your imagination when you surprised me in the shower?” Jack rubbed his thumbs against the hard peaks she had teased him with and stifled a groan. “I’m going to kill you...” he whispered.

“Well, first you would have been angry. For a second.” Irina rolled her eyes at his snort. “It was my fantasy, remember. And then I would have negated your anger by taking off my clothes and getting into the shower with you.” She leaned forward and licked the base of his neck, while her hands slid over his chest.

“I would have been that easy?” Jack gritted his teeth together as she skimmed his nipples and then reached down to play with his belt buckle.

“Well, if you weren’t I had a option B.”

“Do tell.” Jack leaned his head back against the door and once again bit back a groan, this time as she raised herself up to lean against him and nip at the skin of his throat.

Against his skin, Irina whispered, “I would somehow manage to tie you to the shower rod and --”

Jack laughed and looked down at his wife. He slid his hands down over her buttocks and lifted her against him. “How?”

“Oh, I don’t know! It wasn’t important!” Irina said impatiently and bit at his ear lobe. “Pay attention--”

“The game - the process wasn’t important? How shocking! Irina Derevko--”

“Irina Bristow.” She bit his shoulder again and grimaced at the marks she’d left. “Sorry, too hard. I just want...” She kissed his skin and rested her forehead against him. “Irina Bristow, remember?”

“I know what you want.” Jack pushed her hand down to his pants and groaned again when her fingers touched him. “Believe me. I know.”

“My name--”

“Whatever.”

“What were we talking about?”

“Your fantasy of somehow getting me tied up by unknown means. Which is shocking. Irina Bristow, gamesplayer extraordinaire doesn’t consider the game important?”

“No, you idiot!” Irina reached up and bit Jack’s chin. “The end result was the point.”

“Which was?”

“You were wet...” Irina sighed.
“And...” Jack prompted when Irina said nothing more.

“Oh. Isn’t that enough?”

“Yeah, if you want the water in that shower to run cold--”

“No, no. It’s my fantasy and therefore we have endless hot water. And you’re wet and at my mercy.” Irina smiled and then said nothing more as she looked at him. How could she get him to do that? Maybe...she could just ask. Hmm. That was a thought worth thinking. Jack tied to the shower rod. But maybe she’d rather have him tied to the shower nozzle? Yes! That was it. Like in her old portfolio. Of course then his hands weren’t tied, but...Well, she didn’t have that picture anyway and replicating it wouldn’t be, well, the same. No, nothing was really the same. Time to move on. To a red robe belt tied around his wrists while water poured down over him and he couldn’t do anything but---

“Honey...” Jack laughed softly. “Are you with me?”

“Oh, I’m with you....” Irina looked up at him and slowly pressed her mouth against his, taking control of the kiss and him with possessive strength. “You’re with me because you are mine. Remember. Moya. Mine...”

“I remember.” Jack opened his eyes. This kind of possessiveness was good, very good, he decided as her hands slid around his neck and her mouth traveled across his cheek to own his throat. He tilted his head back for her and asked huskily, “So I’m wet and at your mercy...?”

Irina nodded as she moved her mouth along the curve of his neck. “Your hands were above your head, tied to the shower rod with the tie from my red robe--”

Jack swallowed hard and looked at the ceiling, hoping for control. If she kept doing that... He had to stop this story. “Hope it wasn’t one of those tension rods, because all I would have had to do was pull hard on the rod--”

“Pulling hard on the rod is my job, Jack...” Irina smiled. Then slapping his arm, she reminded him, “And this was my fantasy, so of course the rod was attached to the wall with four inch screws---”

“All you want is a four inch screw? You’re easy to please and frankly, somewhat insulting.”

Irina began to laugh. “Stop it! Don’t make me laugh. I’m trying to seduce you with my fantasies--”

“Of a four inch screw? Were you fantasizing about me or Arvin?” Jack laughed.

Irina leaned her head against Jack’s shoulder and muffled her laughter into his skin. “Well, that ruined the mood, Jack.”

“Well, if the four inch screw isn’t enough--”

“I think not. You know how demanding I am.” Irina's hands bit into Jack's upper arms as she held on tightly. This time she would not let go.

“I have a vague recollection. Refresh my memory.” Jack's smile faded into a moan as his wife's mouth met his in a kiss that demanded everything he could give. Wrapping his arms around her he enfolded her into an embrace that told her, just as his lips and tongue told her, that he would never let her go. "Always..." he whispered suddenly and then slanted his mouth back over hers until they both broke apart, staring at each other.

"Oh! Again..." Irina tugged his head back to hers, this time tilting her head back and allowing him entrance to her.

"That was..." Jack rested his forehead against hers, knowing they needed to stop before they embarrassed themselves.

“Are you...um... refreshed?” Irina asked, belatedly remembering the game she had begun.

“Yes." Jack touched Irina's cheek and smiled. "But...I was thinking...”

“I bet,” Irina said dryly, realizing belatedly that he was trying to find control for them both.

“If the shower rod is that important to you--”

“The rod is...” Irina slid her hand down his pants and watched his jaw tighten. Good. “Always important. Or rather, its performance is important. It would be a disaster if it fell down on the job.”

“Yes, that’s why I - who was just trying to be helpful --” Jack stopped waiting for Irina to finish rolling her eyes. “Just wanted to suggest that you could always use a toggle bolt to hold the rod in place.”

Irina gaped at him and then shook her head. “Okay, I’ll bite. How--”

“You often do.” Jack touched a fingertip to the side of his wife’s mouth. “And some other time I think I’ll give you a map of the places I like to be bitten. A hands-on, interactive...pop-up map. Would you like that?”

Irina pressed her lips and her legs together. A hands-on guide to the places where Jack liked to be bitten? “Hmm, um. Shut up. So, how does one..toggle the bolt?”

“Well, first you need a good strong screwdriver...” Jack smiled. “So tell me, what’s your preference? Manual or battery operated?”

“Jack!” Irina yelled.

“See, told you.” Jack gave that half grin that always worked. “You are too loud for us to do anything in here. Even this innocent conversation.”

“Innocent?”

“Well, of course. I mean, I just want to know - being a good husband and all - if you think it’s all in the wrist action or if you prefer the vibrations of--”

“JACK!”

“Because I could....hum,” Jack offered.

At the shout of Jack’s name from the bathroom, Weiss and Vaughn looked at each other. Dixon looked out the window. Sydney looked shocked, then covered her eyes, then thought better of it and covered her ears. Sark looked eager, for trouble, as he smiled at Sydney and commented, “I do believe I’m going to ask Jack for pointers because reluctantly I’m impressed--”

“Shut up!!” Sydney just pulled her voice back from yelling. “I don’t know what they’re doing, but it’s not...that!”

“Stop it!” Irina laughed and tried, but not very hard, to pull away from Jack’s mouth which was fastened to the side of her neck as he hummed. “What is that?” Irina listened and shuddered as Jack’s hand drifted up to her breast and began rubbing the nipple in time with the song. “Wait a minute! Is that...’Somewhere Over the Rainbow’?” Irina began to laugh again as she ran her fingers into her hair and held him close.

Sydney’s head jerked up. “I remember that...”

“What, Syd?” Vaughn asked gently.

“The laughter. I remember that. The two of them...” Sydney stared at the door. “My father is teasing her. That’s what’s happening. He would tease her and she would yell his name or slap at him or...launch her self at him. And then laugh. He could always make her laugh.” She looked away from the door and noted Sark’s look of astonishment.

“Could he?” Dixon prompted, “Is there anything else you can remember?”

“Sometimes, he’d get her going so much....” Sydney smiled. “She would slap at him. He would wink at me.” She stopped abruptly. When Vaughn touched her hand, she looked at no one and said softly, “Uncle Dave would too. Tease her. He could irritate her. In different ways, of course...”

“Was Irina truly good friends with Dave?” Sark asked. It was hard to conceive of the notion.

“Yes.” Sydney nodded. “He was at our house all the time...He was just there. For us, for himself. He loved us.”

“I’m sure he did, Syd.” Vaughn squeezed her hand.

“He apparently told me that you were the princess, if you recall,” Sark offered as he put his hand to his temple and closed his eyes. “He might have called you that. Do you remember?”

“I...yes.” Sydney nodded. “I remember. He took me for ice cream, played miniature golf and...the movies. He and Mom both loved the movies. I think...I think Dave was probably the person with whom she was closest aside from my father.”

“He sounds like a special person,” Dixon said softly.

Sydney smiled sadly. “He was my uncle Dave. I took him for granted. Like...” She looked at Sark, then away. “Like I suppose all lucky children do take for granted the love in their lives. And...In fact I thought Dave really was my uncle until his funeral. It was only then that I realized that he and my father weren’t brothers.”

“I think, sometimes...” Weiss cleared his throat. “That blood ties are less important than what lies in the heart.”

“Yes.” Sydney nodded. “Dad sang at that funeral. I never heard him sing again.”

Jack lifted his head as Irina tugged at his hair. “Was I humming off key?”

“I’ve missed this,” Irina admitted, tracing the outline of Jack’s smile with her fingertip.

“Me too.” He kissed her fingertip.

“And if we’re very quiet-“ Irina stopped at Jack’s snort. “No, I’m serious. We’re...spies! We should be able to be quiet.”

“Our daughter is out there-“

“But she can’t see us...” Irina said cajolingly, as she feathered a kiss on the base of Jack’s neck. Her lips traveling down his chest, she whispered, “No one can see this.”

“Or this?” Jack whispered back as his hands slid under her shirt.
“Or this.” Irina whipped her shirt off and dropped it on top of the tiny sink.

Jack reached up and unclipped the front hook of her bra and smoothed it off her body. Bending his head, he kissed her collarbone. Irina shivered and clasped her hands around the back of his neck as his mouth slowly traveled down to her nipple. Pressing his lips against it, he paused. Irina dug her nails into his neck and pushed her breast against his mouth and then stopped abruptly when she heard something.

“Jack..” Irina stared at him. “What are you...”

“Just starting to hum again.” Jack pulled back and looked into her eyes then back down at her nipple. Sliding his tongue out, he gave it a long lick. “Because apparently I need to practice. I’d hate to be off key.”

“You’re not serious!” Irina pushed back.

“Sure, I am. You can just hop up on this sink and if I don’t mind that old back injury from New Jersey...” Jack put his hand on his back ostentatiously and then waited. 1, 2, 3...

“Jack Bristow!” Irina squawked. “I was not that heavy!”

“It was a small car. You were eight months pregnant. It was 3am and a state trooper had just rolled into the rest stop. I was moving quickly.”

“Hey, Syd,” Weiss shrugged. “I mean, they haven’t seen each other in months and maybe they just want a little privacy-“

“They’re not doing anything. We’re all out here! I’m out here and I’m their daughter and--”

“How do you think you got here?” Weiss asked. “Stork? Pumpkin patch?”

“Well, those are options A and B,” Vaughn agreed, then tried to shift away when Sydney slapped at him.

“Stop it!” Sydney growled. “Those are my parents. If they had sex - which I’m not going to agree to - they did it in the dark, in the bed under the covers, with their eyes closed and no one enjoyed it!”

“I don’t think that’s one options paper that’s too likely,” Weiss laughed, remembering Jack’s...visit to Irina in the glass cell, where the options were the floor, the wall and the table. Oh and a chair. But he’d bet on the table.

“And as I recall,” Irina smiled slowly and put her hands on Jack’s belt buckle. “We all survived. Sydney was born the next day. And here she is right now, with us as much as... When did she get to the Op Center this morning? It seems so long ago, I can’t recall.“

Jack frowned. “She could have been in the Op Center when you and I were doing it on the table in the glass cell!”

“I have very fond memories of our kitchen table...” Irina smiled. “We could have made Sydney on that table.”

Jack smiled in return. “Or the car. Or the bed. Or the steps.”

“Which reminds me. In my survey of your apartment this morning, I noticed one serious flaw--”

“What, isn’t the security up to your standards?”
“No, it was fine. The problem was...” Irina ran her hands up his chest and hooked them around his neck. “I noticed no steps in your apartment...” Irina sighed. “The twelve-step program is something that I’d like demonstrated again.”

“You can stop with the twelve-step comments!” Jack hissed, lowering his voice. “That’s what got you into trouble in the first place-“

“No, I think it was wearing that chain out in public-“

“I mean out there!” Jack slammed his hand on the door. “Sydney could have heard--”

Bang

“I think she heard that,” Irina said dryly. “What do you think they made of that banging?”

Jack sighed. “No doubt they think that’s your head banging against the door as I bang you.”

“Jack!” Irina growled. He was throwing her off balance today, as if he’d saved up every teasing comment he could possibly make for months and... “I missed you, you know.”

Jack cupped her cheek. Irina looked up and kissed him gently, smiling as he began to speak. “I...know.”

Irina glared at him and then began to laugh. “You’re just trying to push my buttons.”

“Oh, you want to play the button game?” Jack asked eagerly.

“Oh.” Sydney relaxed and smiled. “My father is teasing her. They’re just playing one of their games.”

“Games?” Vaughn asked cautiously.

“He’s irritating her and she’s falling for it. I think...she wanted, wants to fall for it.” Sydney smiled and looked down at her hands as vague, happy memories of her parents’ laughter flitted through her mind like the clouds passing by the window of the plane. “She really did love him, us, you know,” Sydney told Vaughn. “I still don’t really understand her choices, then.”

“I don’t know how Jack does,” Vaughn added. “Knowing that she loved you and left you?” He shook his head.

“That’s gotta screw you up,” Weiss noted as he shuffled the cards.

Sark said to Vaughn, “I admit I still have trouble comprehending-“

“The simplest concepts?” Sydney smiled sweetly. “That’s okay. In this country we make allowances.”

“Allow me this then. The confusion of knowing Irina Derevko all of my life - known life, that is - and seeing her, hearing her now. That woman was completely, utterly committed to her game plan, to her organization, to Rambaldi and she’s given that up? I still don’t quite believe it. Why? And why after everything... would Jack forgive her?”

Sydney looked perplexed at the question. “Why? Well, for love, of course. What else?”

Vaughn stared at Sydney and nodded slowly. Sydney was her father’s daughter. And...perhaps, Irina’s heart was bigger than he had assumed.

“How I wish we could. But I am too loud.” Irina shrugged and decided that if she couldn’t have what she really wanted, she could torment her husband. Option B it was. “You know, I firmly believe that Sydney should have the details of how--”

“No, she shouldn’t! Are you insane?”

“No, I really think she needs to know that we conceived her out of love--”

“I’m sure she knows that! If she thinks about it and I’m sure she doesn’t--”

“Why not?”

“Because... because it’s just not normal. And it’s certainly not healthy! And if I have to think about her thinking about it--”

“What?”

“I may not be able to perform properly myself!”

“That’s an empty threat and we both know it. Thankfully, I know that. But I won’t tell her about the steps--”

“There is a god--”

“Yes, because after all, we might have conceived her on the table, in the car or even, gasp!” Irina put her hand to her heart. “The bed.”

“I don’t want to hear this!”

“How long is it going to take them to play this game, anyway?” Sark asked. “Jack told me that he’d engage the protocol again to see if he could recover my memories.”

“If he said he’ll do it, he’ll do it!” Sydney sniped at him. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“It’s not my knickers that are in a twist right now,” Sark responded. “Or around my ankles-“

“They’re not called knickers in this country, by the way.” Weiss tossed a card at Sark. “Although Irina sure had a ton of luggage and shopping bags, including some from-“

“Shut up!” Sydney grabbed the card from Sark and flung it in Weiss’s face. “You were her baggage handler, not her fashion...broadcaster!”

“Boys!” Dixon called out. “Stop teasing Sydney. It’s not nice. And Jack won’t like hearing about it.”

“Uh-oh,” Weiss muttered. “We’re dead.”

“Yes, so find some other way to pass the time.”

“I think I”ll just die.” Sydney groaned and lay down on her back and put her forearm across her eyes. She was beginning to think she wanted a female partner.

“You could just pretend to die, like your mother,” Weiss suggested. “And return when it’s convenient.”
“Very funny.” Vaughn rolled his eyes.

Dixon shook his head and reminded them, “Syd, you were going to tell us a story...”

“Oh!” Sydney gave a grateful smile to Dixon and sat up. Matter-of-factly, she related, “So, I jumped off the roof of our house and---”

“You what?” Weiss asked, his eyes wide. “I must have misheard you, because it sounded like you said--”

Sark shook his head. “Oh, we all heard it. She jumped off the roof of her house when she was six years old.”

“Why?” Dixon asked, glad his daughter had spent her time at that age dressing their dog up in baby clothes, putting him in a doll carriage and wheeling him around the neighborhood. All she’d gotten was an occasional scratch.

“I was playing this game with my father...”

“Your father did not suggest--” Dixon interrupted. “I will not believe that--”

“No, he--” Sydney began.

“What game would involve you jumping off a roof?” Vaughn asked sharply. “Or was this a Project Christmas---”

“No. He didn’t do that until after Irina left,” Weiss reminded Vaughn.

“Allow me my confusion,” Sark interjected, tapping his foot in Sydney’s direction. “You were jumping off roofs before your father engaged the Project Christmas--”

“Apparently. We were playing hide and seek, I suppose you’d call it which was much better than the stay put game--”

“The stay put game?” Weiss smiled.

“Yeah. I was always getting out of bed after they put me down for the night and wanting to come sleep in their bed and my father would let me but my mother would get mad, so finally my father came up with the stay put game to...” Sydney turned red.

“Maybe you’d like to hear of my other fantasy of surprising you while you were asleep in bed?”

“Oh!” Jack looked at his wife eagerly. “That sounds good. Although why is it that your fantasies involve surprising me?”
“So you couldn’t kill me or kick me out. I do know that much about myself, Jack. And you.”

“And why did you want to tie me up?” Jack asked. “Do you know why you like that so much?” Before she could answer, he gave her a hard kiss and whispered against her lips, “Moya.” Irina gripped his arms in a tight clasp.

“I think we all are capable of surmising why Jack devised that particular game, Sydney.” Sark bit his lip to keep from smiling, then realized that smiling was the perfect choice. Yes and there went Sydney, kicking him once again. He smiled more broadly. “Or do I need to spell it out for you?”

“No!” Sydney closed her eyes. “Do you want to hear the story?”

“We have nothing else to do. Why ever not?” Sark shrugged.

Sydney opened her eyes. “Well, I was on the roof.”

“How did you get out there, anyway?” Vaughn asked.

“Oh.” Sydney shrugged. “I climbed out the bathroom window and stood on the sill. I grabbed the molding on the roof edge and pulled myself up until I could shimmy up onto the roof and--”

“And you think girls aren’t tough enough for hockey?” Weiss asked. “She was six years old, man!”

“I’m doomed,” Vaughn moaned.

“Why?” Sark asked. “Are felicitations in order? Have you asked the princess to marry you? Have I been excluded from major gossip in the glass cell or--”

“Sark!” Sydney and Vaughn exclaimed together.

“I was just inquiring. Because if Vaughn--”

“That’s Agent Vaughn to you, you little monkey!”

“Hmm. Irina was correct. Women do either end up with men just like their fathers or the opposite. I see we know which category Agent Vaughn falls into.”

“WHAT?!” Vaughn yelled.

Jack and Irina looked at the door. Jack looked at his wife. “So. How did Vaughn end up erupting like that anyway?”

“I encouraged Sydney to push him--”

“Why?”

“Because he’s like you. He needs a good kick in the ass sometimes--”

“He’s what?” Jack blinked. “He is not like me in the slightest.”

“Of course not.”
“Don’t patronize me!”

“I’m not patronizing you. I’m agreeing with you.”

“In a patronizing tone of voice. And I don’t need a kick in the ass at any time!”

“You’re absolutely correct--” Irina slid her hands down Jack’s back. His ass needed to be squeezed, not kicked. She decided to put her theory in practice and curved her hands around his buttocks and pulled him into her. She looked up at him and smiled.

“Why are you agreeing with me?” Jack asked suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“So suspicious!”

“Damn straight and-“

“Oh, bite me, Jack.” Irina cupped her breasts in her hands. “Go ahead, bite me.”

“They’re-“

“We’re hidden from view, Jack. We’re spies, remember?”

Sydney spoke up quickly before Vaughn could punch Sark, although why she cared she didn’t know. “Anyway! I thought I’d found the perfect place. Hidden. I was hidden. I could see but could not be seen.”

“The roof.” Dixon looked over at the bathroom where Irina was hidden from view, remembering Irina and Sydney on a roof not so very long ago.

“Yes. And then I thought....” Sydney swallowed. “I thought it would be fun to jump off the roof like I’d jumped off the stairs or the couch or anything else and have him catch me and if it hadn’t been a second story roof--” Sydney broke off as she saw the appalled looks on the faces of Vaughn, Weiss and Dixon. “Well, I wanted him to catch me.”

"And if you don't want to be surprised, we can play my favorite--" Irina suggested, relaxing into the warmth of Jack's hands supporting her weight as she leaned back to look at him.

“Your favorite game is the chase game, but you're always wanting to tie me up in the shower, in the bed. So tell me this, Ms. Logic. How can I chase you if my hands are tied?”

“Major tactical error,” Irina admitted. “One I won’t make again. This time... “

“This time if I had to bite through the damn bonds I’d chase after you and find you and...”

“What?”

“You’ll have to find out. If...You’re foolish enough to try it again.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be.”

“Yeah, right.” Jack tipped her chin up and kissed her smiling face. “Don’t worry. This time I’ll find you.”

Sark shrugged, the only one not shocked by the story. “Apparently he caught you since you’re standing before me and are not just a distant memory of a greasy spot on the sidewalk.”

“He caught me.”

“And then what? He must have smacked your butt for that one!” Weiss hoped Jack had smacked her butt for that one. Geez!

“He did.” Sydney looked down and nodded. “He never did that.”

“He was scared to death,” Dixon told her. “Surely as an adult you must realize that.”

“I do. And even then...I did. He explained it to me. Along with a very detailed explanation -- because this is Jack Bristow, detail man -- about why you apologize and how.”

“He gave me instructions on how to apologize too,” Sark told Sydney.

“But apparently not as explicit as the ones he gave me. Because you don’t start off an apology with, ‘Jack told me...’” Sydney frowned and raised her chin. “Therefore, do it over again. Properly. Now.”

“Whoa...” Weiss whispered to Vaughn. “That is so...Jack.”

“I know.”

“Pozhaluista. Please.” Jack whispered as Irina’s lips lifted and she looked up at him again.

“What?”

“Do it again.”

Jack stopped Irina when her lips touched him again and a surge of heat flushed over him. “Damn it, we have to stop.”

“Why?” Irina slid her arms around him. “You can be quiet. I’d like to give you-“

“Honey...” Jack closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her. “And I’d like to give you what you want too. But you’re loud and I’m too... I won’t be able to be insouciant when we open the door and walk out.”

“What are you talking about?” And who the hell used the word ‘insouciant’ when talking about... Irina looked down at Jack’s pants and smiled. “Back...then, we used to sneak off to the garage or-“

“And our friends knew what we were doing. They teased us about it, remember? They knew. Your lips would be red or your hair would be a mess-“

“It was my fault?” Irina planted her hands on her hips. “Sometimes your hair would be a mess too. In those days your hair was longer-“

“Get over it. The seventies are gone. And I’m not a kid anymore. Those were our friends - of the same age - waiting for us. Out there is our team, which includes our daughter-“

“You are such a prude.” Irina poked him in the shoulder and looked at him challengingly. Would this work?

“No, I’m not and you are not going to goad me into anything.”

“Well, I had to try.” Irina smiled up at him. She reached for her bra and relinquished it gladly to Jack, who had always enjoyed dressing her almost as much as he’d enjoyed undressing her. Any reason to touch, she knew and appreciated, shivering as his fingertips just happened to brush against her nipples as he fastened the clasp of her bra.

“I appreciate that, but our timing is off.” Jack sighed as he watched Irina tug her shirt back on. Helping her tuck it back into her pants, he reminded her, “We’re not going to be alone for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh, shit,” Irina said as realization dawned. “We’re going to have the op and then recovery for Dave. And surely he’s coming home with us and...”

“Well, he’ll have his own room-“ Jack ran his hands up and down her arms. Oh, maybe now they could work out together. Run again or... The possibilities were enticing.

“Yes, but there will be no twelve-step program while he’s in the house. Which we have to find and buy.”

“We could teach him the stay-put game,” Jack offered as Irina’s hands touched his chest one last time. He looked down, enjoying the sight of skin touching skin again.

“You know...” Irina reluctantly began to button Jack’s shirt back up. “We could always count on Sydney to stay put once she fell into a deep sleep. And everyone is going to sleep on this flight. In fact, if you suggested it, they might even take sleeping pills to ensure a good night’s rest before the big day...”

Jack smiled broadly as he tucked his shirt back into his pants. “That seems a bit extreme...”

“I know.” Irina smiled as she pressed her lips against her husband’s in one last kiss. “That will...” She sighed. “Have to suffice. For now. Be...sufficient,” she said slowly as she rubbed her body against Jack’s and felt his response.

“What?” Jack asked as his hands slid down over her hips. “What did you say?”

Irina deepened her accent. “Sufficient. Satisfactory. Plenteous. Chock-full.”

“Chock-full?” Jack began to breathe easier and thrust open the door. Not what he wanted to thrust, but it would do in a pinch.

“Oh, did I say it wrong?” Irina blinked up at him once, twice, three times. “Perhaps I meant to say, cock-full? Or is that just wishful thinking?”

“WHAT?” Jack barked as he stopped dead in the doorway. That was a word he’d never heard her say and it was quite... Uh-oh. He turned slowly and faced a silent circle, that included his daughter.

“Do you want me to repeat that, Jack?” Irina asked, shouldering past to stand in front of him.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Jack growled.

“What was that old commercial? About being chock-full of nuts?” Irina asked. Then turning to face the group, she asked, “Do we have any nuts, I mean, coffee?”

“I mean it!” Jack yelled and then stopped as he faced the hold. Everyone was staring at him. “Oh. Um. I...um. We...”

“Hi, Jack!” Weiss asked brightly. “What’s, um, up?”

“Weiss...”

“No, seriously. How’s it...hangin?” Weiss decided he might have overplayed his hand when complete silence fell over the hold. “Um, what I meant was-“

Jack took a step forward and Irina grabbed his arm. “I’ll handle this, Jack.”

“Uh-oh,” Weiss muttered under his breath, clutching his cards in nerveless fingers.

“Eric...” Irina said in a throaty whisper as she tipped his chin up to look at her. “You liked Susan, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but--”

“How do you think your attempt to ask her out might go if she were emailed those photos of you with Kendall in smiley-face boxers and pink fur handcuffs?”

“But, they were posed and--”

“Will she know that? And even when she knows, is that the kind of impression on her you’d prefer to make? The first time you actually get her near a bed, she might have an...unfortunate flashback to those images and--”

“You’d be going home with more than just your hat in your hand?” Jack smiled.

“But, but... That’s blackmail!”

“Blackmail is such a pejorative term.” Irina looked at Jack.

“It is. An unfortunate choice of words, surely, Weiss.” Jack nodded back at Irina.

“Yes. And I’m attempting to make my life more positive, as you know. So I prefer to describe what I’m doing as merely offering you choices.”

“I’ll take Option A. Shutting up.” Weiss looked hopeful.

“Good choice,” Irina stood up and patted Weiss on the head with more force than was strictly necessary judging by the pained look on his face.

Sydney stared at her father, who nodded at her with a grimace. ‘That never happened, sweetheart-“

“Agreed.”

Jack frowned as his cell phone rang. “It’s Zamir. Excuse me.” Jack stood up and took a few steps away and spoke quietly into the phone. Irina waited a few seconds, then stood up and followed him. They both stood there talking quietly, then Jack spoke into the phone again, his face tight and anxious.

Staring at her father, Sydney said quietly, “After my mother died, Dave caught him, I think. And now he’s...”

“Now he’s trying to catch Dave before it’s too late,” Dixon said quietly. “And I believe that, like all of us, Jack could probably use some...assistance in other ways as well.”

“Does he?” Sark asked skeptically. “Jack Bristow has always seemed fully self-sufficient. He was famous for his solo work. I think he could mount this raid completely on his own, which would be the preferable manner, in my opinion. Irina always worked on her own, even if she allowed others to believe that they were her equals. And this team?” He stared at Vaughn as he said, “I fail to see the benefit of including people with shallow commitment--”

Vaughn shrugged to prevent himself from popping Sark in the face. “Maybe. But this story about his best friend Dave has caused me to reevaluate my impressions. Maybe Jack was self-sufficient because he had no one else. I know that if Eric were killed, I’d...”

“Thanks, Mike, but let’s not get all mushy,” Weiss commented, punching Vaughn lightly in the arm.

“As I was saying---” Sark began again. This group was so undisciplined, so...personal with each other. He looked with relief up at Jack and Irina as they joined the circle. Finally. Two people who had a sense of order. Or at least Irina did. She’d allowed no such personal sloppiness under her watch. With her, he’d lived with his colleagues since adolescence and never had the bonds these people seemed to have. For better or worse? Was this a feature of American intelligence or just this hand-picked team of Jack’s? And why was he on the team? Would he ever get used to the way Americans interacted? Had he truly been an American once? From New Jersey, of all places? He’d rather apologize than contemplate that idea. He tried again, but truthful sincerity was not something with which he was practiced. “Jack told me I should---”

“Don’t start out that way,” Sydney suggested again.“I told you that before. It negates the apology.” She glanced over at her father’s surprised face, realizing that he had flipped his phone closed and was standing there waiting. She scooted over and made room for him, even if it brought her closer to Sark and his cooties.

“Oh my god,” Jack whispered to his wife. “She listened to me?” And had she just made a place for him next to her?

Irina smiled. “She had a lot to say to Piggy that day about what you said to her.”

“Did you see Piggy in the hope chest?” Jack asked absently as he watched his daughter, who had been patting the spot next to her.

“Did you say...” Sydney stood and whirled around. “Piggy? You still have Piggy?”

“Piggy?” Vaughn and Weiss said in unison. “Who’s Piggy?”

TBC at Part 1 Section 2 of 2