Phoenix Time
She'd watched from the shadows as the NSC surrounded Jack. He'd been careless, reckless in contacting her this time. After a year spent chasing shadows, dead ends and countless leads, they'd finally made some progress. Or so she'd thought. It seemed like a trap, Jack's messages, all over the papers, the internet, and the like. They might have been in flashing neon with a map and arrow pointing to the rendezvous point -- "Irina Derevko and Jack Bristow are meeting here! Interested parties line up at the door." But she had come under cover of five snipers, and she had spotted the agents, so she backed off and waited for Jack, waited for the betrayal. It never came. Jack arrived at the given time and waited at the bar, drinking scotch after scotch, checking the door at each new arrival. When Lindsey and the agents walked in, he hadn't fought, he hadn't looked back, but he did look up, to the shadows of the buildings where he thought she was, and he was right. She saw him through the scope of the rifle, handcuffed and shackled as they led him away.
It was two years before she saw him again and a year before she understood his desperation that night. The night he learned their daughter was alive.
Irina believed that Jack betrayed her once again that night, although doubts formed as she learned the NSC had thrown him in solitary with no contact. He hadn't said a word, not one. She'd seen the interrogation tapes -- everything they had done to him, but through it all, Jack sat there with a sereneness she'd believed to be insanity at the time. So she watched the screen as Jack was led away and in his absence, the world changed.
Betrayal on betrayal, it went back twenty years, a record of their deception recorded in posterity on both sides. She'd known from Sydney that Jack had seen the tapes of her debriefing. At the time, she thought it gave her control over him. She'd certainly believed it in India. Jack was reckless and out-of-control. This she believed until Sark laid those paddles on her chest and shocked her both physically and emotionally. Jack was as capable of betrayal and deception as she was, and neither could hide from the other.
She'd taught him how to lie to her.
But Irina thought back to the beginning of that as she made her way to the border, the ruins of Sevogda fading into the background with each step. She walked further away from her family, the remains of her sister, and, just maybe, the promise of something with Jack. Something that didn't resonate with falsehood. A past that brought a man who'd opened his life to her and she'd taken everything away from him. She'd read the reports and she had kept tabs on Jack. As dead as she was to him, alive and hidden in the shadows of the world, she watched as the man who once promised her the world spit on it and did his level best to leave it as soon as possible. She hadn't really believed it until Jack implanted her with a second tracking device. Walking now, she shook her head in disbelief, now she hadn't even considered that Jack might do such a thing.
These past few days with Jack, she'd seen the man he once was, before she'd left. Not the man who'd stared at her. Separated from her by six inches of bulletproof glass, bars, and monitors. A man incapable of holding himself with anything less than a proper parade stance, her Jack, the one that looked at her with longing in Guatemala, smiled while handing her papers that guaranteed her imprisonment, and then pointed the way to her freedom. Irina smiled as she walked around a burning car, the taste of Jack still on her lips.
But it was the past she reflected on.
Picking her way through the rubble her thoughts drifted back to Panama, the last time she believed she controlled Jack.
His hands were warm as they rested against the skin of her back, contrasting with the coldness of the scalpel as it cut into her shoulder. Her blood ran warm, cooling as it hit the air, but Jack immediately sopped it up. His fingertips traced the wound as he placed the bandage on her. When she'd turned to him, she'd seen his eyes, and known she owned him. She'd known she'd leave him the next day, to face his superiors and her victory, but tonight, that night, she wanted to taste him again, feel him again, and she knew he felt the same way. Their entire journey had led to this point, in a seedy hotel in Panama, kissing the other, his shirt rough against her nipples as he moved them to the bed. She sank into the mattress, pressed into it by Jack's weight. One of the things she had liked about their sex-life was feeling his weight on top of her.
His hands framed her face, fingers running through her hair as his lips pressed against hers. Irina arched her back and ran her hands over Jack's clothed body. She reached up her hand and drew Jack's hand down to her lips and sucked his index finger into her mouth. Jack rolled to his side, his leg resting between hers, his cheeks grew flushed as she began to nibble and suck on each finger in turn. As she looked at him, Jack traced a finger from her temple, carded his fingers through her hair and then slowly traced his fingers down her bare skin and to the waistband of her slacks. His fingers dipped between the fabric and her skin, brushing against the top of her ass as his thumb circled and pressed into the bare skin above her waistband.
Irina bit down on Jack's index finger and he exhaled sharply as she rolled over and straddled him, resting her arms on either side of his body. Her hair fanned around him as she leaned down to capture his upper lip between her teeth. Jack's hands came up again to run his fingers once more through her hair. Irina couldn't stop the smile at Jack's fascination with her hair, as Laura, her hair had been shorter, but she'd always loved longer hair, apparently Jack did as well. His hands cupped the sides of her face again and brought her face down to his once more and pressed their lips together in a blistering kiss. Their teeth bit the other's lips, tongues fought against the other and the room filled with the sounds of their moans.
Jack's hands once again went to her waistband and tore at the button and zipper, opening her pants and slipping his hand down the front and directly onto the edge of her clitoris. She couldn't stop a gasp as his nail lightly scraped the tender flesh, and she felt herself growing more aroused with each minute as his fingers played with her clitoris, but he couldn't quite press down hard enough to satisfy her. She tried rocking back and forth on Jack's erection beneath her, but squirmed as the fabric between them muted the sensations.
She looked down at Jack's face and saw him quirk his lips ever so slightly as he pushed her off him with his hand still down her pants. She laughed as Jack pushed her down on the bed once more. She lay down, watching as Jack slowly withdrew his hand from her pants, his fingers wet with her juices and slowly, his eyes never leaving her face, sucked his fingers into his mouth one by one and licked her juices off his fingers. Irina threw back her head and laughed as Jack moved to the foot of the bed. His shirt untucked, hair messed and pants distended - aside from the grey hair, he looked like a teenager.
Watching Jack from hooded eyes, she tensed up as he caressed her ankle, drawing her left leg up, removing her shoe and running his hand as far up her pants leg as he could. He pressed his lips to her leg and then let it go, before repeating his actions on her other leg. He then stood up and began removing his shirt. Irina brought her foot up and pressed her toes between Jack's legs and his cock. Jack continued to unbutton his shirt with one hand, while he moved his left to her foot, running his fingers from her ankles to her toes and then he began to masturbate himself with her foot. Jack tossed his shirt somewhere behind him as she hooked her leg around him and brought him closer to her.
Jack stopped her movements and kicked off his shoes and turned away from her quickly to remove his socks. Jack turned back to her and moved back on the bed, his knee between her legs. His hands ran down her arms and to her pants once more, and she lifted her hips as he removed both her pants and underwear in one go. Irina brought one leg up and she could see and feel Jack's gaze drawn to her vagina and the wetness she knew was evident. Jack bent over her and brought his mouth to her neck nibbling at the junction where her shoulder met her neck.
Her hands came around him and her nails dug into his back as Jack tongued his way down the center of her chest and to her right nipple, running it around her areole, wetting her nipple, yet never taking it into his mouth. His hand came up cupped her other breast, he brought his nails to flick against her nipple as he contrasted that by finally moving his mouth over her other nipple and nipping her with his teeth.
Irina couldn't stop herself from encircling Jack's legs with hers. He'd never done this with her before. Twenty years ago, their lovemaking had been tender, his touches light and delicate. Ghosting over her skin as though she were made of porcelain. Now, faced with Irina, he bit at her skin, dug into her with his nails and pushed her into the mattress with all his weight. She was aroused by this man as never before: as if he knew this he lifted his head from between her breasts and for the first time since this had begun said her name: "Irina." His voice rough with arousal.
Irina smiled once again and pulled his head up further by his hair, a reminder of her actions in the cell. Jack let her, as he had before, and rolled over to his back as she straddled him, rocking back and forth against his erection again, loving the feeling of his pants against her sensitive flesh, knowing that she was leaving her mark all over him.
She held his hands in hers, knowing that if he wanted to, he could fight her, but neither guaranteed the win. Irina moved up slightly and rested against his bare stomach, leaning back a bit to feel the tip of his cock against her rear. She could feel the fabric growing just a little damp, but they were both beyond some asinine make-out session on the bed. She moved off him and removed first his pants, leaving his shorts on, just to irritate the man. She could see just how hard he was, his pre-come had soaked through his shorts and his cock was outlined beautifully in the thin, cotton fabric.
She removed his shorts and Jack winced just a bit as his cock met the air, as hot as it was within the room, it was still a little cold. Irina gave a throaty laugh as Jack grimaced and kicked the offending fabric away.
Just for a moment, they both stopped and looked at each other. The last time they had been skin to skin, naked to the other had been the morning of Laura's death. In the rising light of the morning, they had sex, quietly, moving together as they had with knowledge of ten years between them. Now they met as near strangers in a room, marking the other, yet at the same time, automatically finding the spots they knew the other liked. It was both familiar and alien to Irina and she knew Jack felt the same.
She knew this man.
She looked at the naked expression on his face and leaned down once more to draw his lips to hers. His hand came up at the nape of her neck and held her head to his, drawing out the kiss until they both had to pull away. Irina drew her nails down his chest and flicked his nipples, playing with them until they were as marked as hers. She then moved down just a little and reached behind her, feeling his cock as though it were the first time. Jack quickly grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his head, tilting it and allowing him to look straight down his body to hers. Her eyes locked on Jack's she rose up on her knees and moved back just enough. One hand on Jack's cock, the other spreading her lips as she was poised above the tip of his penis. She licked her lips as Jack parted his lips at the sight of her lips spread above the tip of his cock. She could feel the veins and ridges, the wet tip and felt her muscles beginning to clench at the anticipation of having him inside her. Jack moved his hands to her waist and with that balance she lowered herself so that just the tip of his cock entered her. To her surprise, Jack didn't thrust up, he held himself still, so controlled that she almost missed the small tremor that went though his body, but for what seemed like an eternity they remained in that tableaux. His hands on her waist, the tip of his cock inside her, her head tilted to the side, her hair cascading to the side and each of them flushed red with arousal. Slowly, she lowered herself on Jack's cock, sucking a breath in between her teeth as his width stretched her muscles wonderfully. Just as slowly she rose up again and lowered herself, her eyes closing, her head tilting down as she fucked herself on Jack's cock. Moving to her rhythm, at a pace that pleased her, regardless of what he might have wanted.
Her eyes snapped open when she felt one of Jack's hands leave her waist and draw her head back down to his. She braced herself again, the change in position pushing him deeper inside her, and instead of moving up and down on his cock, Irina began to slowly undulate. Her clitoris rubbing against his body with each stroke, what surprised her were Jack's eyes. Whenever she looked at him, they were open, staring at her, at her skin, at the place where they were joined.
Her head fell down and she bit down on his shoulder as a warm wave washed through her, her muscles clenching around him, her legs pressing tighter against his. She couldn't stop her nails from digging into his sides, she wanted to mark him, make him remember that he was hers. But still he let her do what she wanted, holding himself still as she moved against him.
She should have known that wouldn't last.
She was still shaking from her orgasm when Jack sat up and wrapped his arms around her. Irina sat in his lap as his cock pierced her directly from center. His arms on her shoulders, he began to rock back and forth on the bed, his legs curling beneath her as hers wrapped around his sides. She braced one hand on the headboard and the other on his knee as they rocked harder and faster together, their movements sending the bed crashing against the wall and making the frame creak hard enough that for a moment she thought it would collapse beneath them.
Jack dipped his head down and once again brought his teeth to her skin as he tasted and sucked her. She looked to the top of his curls, the graying hair, and the sweat that enveloped their bodies and it was good. Her clitoris rubbed up and down against his skin and Jack's head remained bowed as she cried out this time as the heat poured through her again.
She heard the sounds of their panting, their skin slapping together, the bed creaking and Jack's cry as he spurted into her. She brought her hands around his neck and he moved his head up to her shoulder and they remained rocking together until the sweat dried on their skin. He'd held her against him for what seemed like an eternity and she couldn't stop the cry when she finally moved off him and felt his cock slip away.
They had kicked off the ruined bedcover, stripped the bed down to the sheets, and he had lain down behind her, his skin still damp, his cock damp with her juices. She'd remained awake until his breathing settled down and he'd gone to sleep. Irina remembered slipping out of his arms and standing naked beside the bed looking down at Jack, his skin marked by her nails, his semen and her juices drying between her legs. She'd gone into the shower and washed off all traces of the night, brushing her hair out and spent the night curled in a chair, watching Jack sleep.
When he'd awoken that morning, he hadn't reached for her, just opened his eyes, checked the room, seen that she was still there and walked to the toilet, absently scratching his stomach. They'd hardly spoken as the plan was put into place, and when he'd contacted her after Sydney's death, he never mentioned that night.
Irina thought about it, when Sark shocked her, hard enough to kill the tracker, close enough to be fatal, she wondered just when Jack had given her the tracker. They'd become the same, able to sleep with the enemy for God and country, and she regretted it just a bit, because somehow both she and Jack betrayed the other.
The sun was coming up, in two directions, Irina thought. Because from the east, it rose, red and brilliant and from the west as she continued to make her way to the border she could see the jet trails as the carpet bombing of Sevogda began, cleansing the city in fire.
She and Jack had been to hell and back, betrayed the other and somehow clawed their way out of the depths. Irina turned from the sight of the city burning and stepped over the last corpse, the border was in that direction. All she needed to do was cross it.