The Winner Takes it All

She is hoarsely whispering encouragement to him in some exotic mix of Russian and English. He is losing his mind.

She cries out his name over and over. He bites his lip so hard he can taste the blood. He wants to cry out too, but that secret little reserve of control prevent. St. Stops him from crying out her name.

And then he is empty.

Episode 4-A whore by any other name...

Jack is void, physically and mentally. He lies on top of her, unable to move.

Irina's eyes are closed, lightly. She can't move and the floor is uncomfortable. But she doesn't try to move, she revels in the closeness, holding on to it for as long as she can. Her mind, which had been blissfully obliterated only moments before, is whirring again.

Was this happiness? Contentment? 'd h'd had him. Her, Jack. Well she'd had part of him at least. One of the best parts too. That was enough for now. How she ached to run her fingers aimlessly through his damp curls, to slowly kiss every inch of his body, until he begged her for more. To shower him in kisses while they lay entwined, talking softly about nothing and everything. He had always been so giving as a lover. While he had his voracious appetites; afterwards he had always held her so possessively, stroking her and kissing her shoulders, laughing about the smallest little things. Those moments had been her treasures. Remembering them, had seen her through some very dark hours.

Don't get carried away dear, she chided herself.. The goal was clear, to get her daughter back safely. As for the other agenda, well, after her years of meticulous planning, she had to be careful. One wrong move now and it could all be lost. And for what? Because she needed to fe'con'connected' to this man? She'd survived twenty years; she could keep on going.

Jack can feel her heart pounding under him.

He is drained, alive, relaxed and terrified. He would move if he could. He must be crushing her. His is waiting, waiting for that touch. The fingers entwined in his hair. No, that can't happen. His world is tilting off it axis as it is, he needs to do something, before his body decides to betray him again.

With effort he lifts his body up. Just the opening she is waiting for. Keeping her eyes turned away from him, she slides out from under him, with regret. She stands up, grabs her clothes and disappears.

What had he expected? Something else. He couldn't read her. Was she playing a different game? Was she afraid that if he looked in her eyes he'd see something she wasn't willing to reveal? Or, was she giving him a chance to regain his dignity, regroup even? His brain was functioning at full power again.

Jack gets dressed. Three minutes later; dressed and with her haired pulled back in a ponytail; sheks uks up to him and hands him a glass. The glass is icy and covered in tiny water droplets. He knows without tasting; it's rum and coke. Laura had always kept the bar fridge in their bedroom stocked with it.

He notes that she has a similar glass. She doesn't meet his eyes, just turns and walks away. She settles into a chair that puts the maximum distance possible between them. She draws her knees to her chest, sips her drink and stares out a small window.

An hour of absolute silence passes. He can't keep his eyes off her. She looks radiant.

Sex certainly agreed with her aura. Laura had always joked she'd never need a spa treatment as long as he... this was proving to be a problem. Laura. He needed to think; terrorist, assassin, deserter, traitor, enemy of the state, morally and ethically depraved:threat, threat, threat. Ah, there it was. Those feelings he had cultivated for so many years; hate, loathing and distrust. They are all flooding back now, like old friends, to give him strength.

They were a fickle crowd. They had abandoned him just now, in his moment of weakness. Or maybe they had known that he needed the release. It certainly had improved his ability to think.

Time to go have a debriefing with Ms. Derevko.

He smiles.

He'njoynjoy this. There were just some things that needed to be said. His friends were back and ready to play.

She knew what was coming. Well, maybe not the specifics, but Jack would be rationalizing and compartmentalizing. He saw himself as an honorable man. He needed to create an escape hatch, in order to reconcile his behavior.

His smell saturates her. She breathes deeply, her face is set: the picture of calm.

Take your best shot, Bristow.

Offering her his most charming and disarming smile, he takes the seat across from her. He sits back, casually; the poster boy for post-coital relaxation.

Jack, Jack, Jack, you are a little too relaxed. Your gorgeous smile isn't hiding that cruel glint in your eye.

"This has been a memorable evening." His voice is still husky.

"Time spent with me is always memorable." Her voice is hoarse. Her throat hurts like hell.

If he notices that her voice sounds like she is talking through a mouthful of gravel, he ignores it.

"Thank you."

The disarming charm. He even offers her a small smile.

"For what?" She asks, without the slightest hint of interest in her voice."Th"The sex. I'm curious, would you like payment in American dollars or do you prefer an alternative currency?"

She maintains her poise.

Oh, like I didn't see that one coming from a mile away you creatively-challenged idiot.

She smiles coyly.

"Consider it ... what's that phrase? On the house... youe cee certainly a man in need. You seem much more relaxew. Dw. Did Jack get his groove back??

"Well, you met that need 'expertly'. The KGB produces the best-trained whores. There is no doubt, you are world class."

Now that felt good. No visible reaction though. Wait; check out the hands, white knuckles. Careful Irina, you might break that expensive arm rest.

Was that his best shot? Well, sit back Jack, she had her own set of scalpels and they were sharp. They say the truth hurts. Ready to open a vein Jack?

Her expression seems innocent. Her voice sounds hoarse.

"Laura Bristow, loving wife and your own personal whore. You were so lucky Jack. You had what every man wants: a wife to love and a whore to screw. She was your drug of choice, wasn't she Jack? When the sights or sounds of one of your missions threatened to destroy you, you buried yourself in her. When a mission left you feeling less than heroic; you emptied it all into her."

He stares at her, transfixed.

She continues as her voice gains strength. There is a lethal look in her eyes.

"She never refused you, did she Jack? No matter what you asked, no matter how selfish or self-indulgent, she was right there with you, indulging you, encouraging you, cleansing you!"

A menacing, "Shut up",rips out of his lips.

"Just as she was your drug of choice. You were her obsession. She had an idea about how working for the greater good took its toll. How it could eat you from the inside out. Didn't you ever question the fact, that Laura 'always' knew what you needed in o to to forget: that she always gave it?"

"Shut Up.", he spit the words with guttural force.

Her voice drops to barely a whisper.

"In all these years, I've re-visited that relationship time after time. I still haven't figured out which one you loved more. Tell me Jack, was it the wife or the whore? "

What's the matter Jack? Not feeling quite so chatty? Too bad your sexy smile had to leave the party early.

"I''ve determined that you loved them equally. You couldn't live without either one. So being a whore for you Jack, is nothing new. I had ten years of practice."

She purposely tilts her neck and runs a finger tenderly over the merging bruises on her neck. He winces.

Damn, she might have overplayed that hand. Even if it was the truth, he wasn't ready for it. She hadn't meant to be quite so brutal.Oh well, it was out there now, thiboutbout damage control later.

She stands up and heads for the cockpit, leaving Jack to his thoughts.

He sits there, stunned. His mind is desperate to shut down, to erase her voice. He will not think about what she said. He touches his neck.He'd been certain that she had opened his jugular. He clasps his head in his hands.

She couldn't be right. Had he considered Laura a whore? He felt like vomiting. He clutches his head harder and that night came crashing in ...

"Jack, Jack, how do I look?"

He gave his belt a tug and turned around to give her his full attention. He sucked in his breath. She looked stunning.

She was wearing a short white dress, made of some flimsy material. He'd not seen it before. He was sure his credit card had taken a major hit, but the dress had been made for her.

It accentuated her killer legs, plunging just enough at the neckline. She had piled her hair, high on her head, leaving her neck fully exposed. Hnstanstant erection saluted her efforts.

"You look...delicious dear."

The smile had spread across her entire face. She loved it when he complimented her.

She had flitted out of the room, purposely avoiding his touch. He grabbed his suit coat, and hoped that they could think of a good excuse to leave Arvin and Emily's party early.

On the drive over, they had chatted about unimportant things. He couldn't take his eyes off the swell of her breast, peeking tauntingly over the top of her dress.

"Jack, the road, watch the road." She insisted.

"But Laura you are just so much more enticing."

"Right, but I don't make good road-kill, so pass that along to our little pal in your pants. Eyes on the road."

They'd arrive at the Arvin and Emily's, right on time. As they were walking towards the house she had grabbed his hand and led him behind a huge oak tree. Taking his face in her hands, she had driven her tongue into his mouth, shamelessly.

She purred. "Before we go to the party honey, there is something you should know."

"Laura, if you don't stop now, I swear, I'll nail you to the tree."

She took his hands, sliding one up her thigh and the other over her breast.

"I just thought you might want to know. I forgot my underwear." She spoke in a breathy whisper.

Jack wished he'd gone with the larger pants. She'd him him standing there, gapping after her.

The party had the usual suspects; but his conversational skills were absent that night. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She spent the entire evening, walking over and casually brushing up against him, or she'd give him her; Please- please- please- screw- me- senseless-Jack, smile.

It wasn't long after that look that they had got into an argument. He'd said something, deliberately baiting her. She'd been tormenting him all night and he needed a small release. Well she'd taken the bait all right, and had come out swinging; Laura-style; take no prisoners, anything goes. It had escalated quickly. His attempts to quiet her down only fueled her ire.

Pushing her into the pool, to cool off, had seemed like such a good idea at the time. She'd surfaced sputtering, but oddly calm. He'd felt badly so he helped her out of the pool.

That was when he realized to his complete horror that Laura, his Laura, was walking porn. The water had made her dress transparent. Her nipples looked hard as rocks, and she was wearing the biggest, screw-me-senseless smile, he'd ever seen..

He couldn't move.

"Jack honey, could you get me a drink."

Maybe she didn't know she was virtually naked. But she had looked down and then looked back at him and winked.

He had taken off his jacket and handed it to her. She handed it back.

"I'm quite comfortable, thank you."

Everyone within fifteen feet was getting a free peep show. So he had had no choice but to toss her over his shoulders and to exit the area.

He recalled Emily saying, 'The gazebo Jack, it's private', as he had all but run past her.

Laura had yelled and beat on him the entire way.

"You are such a prude."

She had then paused to rail on his back, trying to get away from him.

"The body is not something to be ashamed of Jack, it should be celebrated."

"Celebrate it all you'd like dear, just not in front of my co-workers and best friend." , he had growled.

"You threw me in the pool."

"Yes, but I didn't give you a license to strut around like a whore."

He had let her down; she had slid slowly off his shoulder maximizing his contact with her wet body. She had her legs wrapped around his torso and was grinding into him lewdly.

He had disengaged her grip.

"Why would you do something like that?"

She had stepped away from him, so he had a full view and then she had started running her hands all over her body.

"How do I look Jack?"

"Like a whore." He snapped.

He'd unzipped his pants, walked over and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his hips. He had stopped walking and started thrusting the second her back touched the frame of the gazebo.

"Oh, Jack." came out, like some Amazonian war cry.

His mouth bit at her hard nipple through the fabric.

Her head was buried in his neck; she was sobbing in ecstacy.He pulled her head back, so he could look in her eyes.

"Keep your eyes open Laura, I want to watch."

Her pupils were fully dilated; her lips were a raging red.

"Ok, Jack, but please, more, now!"

He thrust.

"Eyes open!" He demanded.

He thrust again, and she managed to keep her eyes open.

"Whose whore are you Laura?"

She didn't even attempt to stifle her moans as he thrust several times in quick succession.

"Yours Jack, I'm yours."

"Whose whore are you Laura?"

"Yours Jack, only yours!"

With every thrust he had asked the question, her answer remained the same.

"Yours Jack, only yours."

At the end she had been screaming it. Afterwards he had held her there. He had kissed her, endlessly.
He pulled back, breathless and said. "You're are my whore Laura, and I don't share."

As he recalled, they had screwed each other senseless for hours in that gazebo. When they finally returned home that night he had used up an entire roll of film, taking pictures of her in that dress. After that, whenever he was away on a mission, he always took one of 'those' pictures with him.

He'd always meant to apologize for calling her a whore, but never had.