[Rachel] -- The Talk
Apr. 13th, 2008 01:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elementof_risk[ooc: Also played out in AIM with the lovely ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
my_strappyshoes. Set several days after the previous and there's a scene in between the earlier one and this one that is still in progress. PG/work safe.]
April 9, 2008
Sark had let himself in, having the codes by now, and really, getting into a condo, even one owned by an APO agent was child's play. She could likely get into any of his just as easily, if she had the location. The idea of her in one of the myriad places--more safehouses than homes--he'd purchased through the years just made the nervousness peak again. He'd never done this sort of talk, ever. There'd been no need. He and Allison had been young, rash, high on their own power and the illicitness of their work. He and Lauren had just...fit with and against and into each other. The barbed taunts were as much foreplay as anything else, repaid in full later, and there was never a need for ... this. But this, her, here, was different, really mostly because of her job, and his and the way they clashed. Random hookups were one thing, but this, dinner and movies and dancing and blenders was feeling like more than that, and even he knew they had to at least lay ground rules, figure some things out, before it imploded on them in messy and not-fun ways. He'd gotten wine, and he opened it to let it breathe, as well as to give himself something to do. She was bringing food, which meant there was very little for him to do but wait.
He hated waiting.
Rachel had left work later than she had anticipated, and wished she hadn't been locked into a boardroom during that time. As soon as she got out she texted him to let him know she was on her way. Phoning the order into the Chinese restaurant on the way to her place from her car, she made her way from work to the restaurant to her condo within a short twenty minute span. Parking her car in the driveway she assumed his was in the garage and she didn't even care. Her keys slipped into the lock and she balanced the bag of take out in her arm as she took a deep breath and pushed into the door. She didn't bother calling out to him as if he had been waiting for her, instead she just moved into the kitchen setting the food on the counter and exhaling once more. The nervousness in her stomach wasn't new to her, but it was new to something like this. It wasn't that she expected the long weekend and the appliances... but she was thinking far too much about him and he had a right to know. Leaving the kitchen she caught sight of the bottle of wine open and getting air and she moved into the living room to find him looking at the books on her bookshelf. "Hey," she started out as she moved to lean against the bookcase that he was studying. "I brought Chinese back." She wanted to kiss him, to just move against him and lean into his shoulder, but that was the problem. That was why they had to talk, because she had these impulses and sometimes they weren't just about sex.
He looked up when he heard her coming in the room, trying to calm the flutter of nerves that he was exceptionally unused to feeling. His lips curved in a small smile, glancing at her, meeting her eyes. The email had helped, except, really, not. Helped that she wasn't being short, not with knowing she was just as much...on a ledge as he was. One of them needed to be sensible, his rational mind insisted. This couldn't work as more than this for any number of reasons. Even what it was, what they pretended it was, could hardly be considered wise. And heart to heart talks had never been his strong point on his best day. He was too used to hiding behind the sarcasm and the smirks. Though he supposed he could still get through this with that. Only he was just sort of looking at her, aware he hadn't said anything. "Chinese sounds good," he said quickly, giving her a wry smile and wondering when reaching for her became such a compulsion.
There was a tension in the air and it almost hurt her to feel it. This wasn't really what she had thought she'd come home to, but the more she thought about it the less she really knew what she was coming home to, and the less she said the more she wanted to just say something... anything. Her hand reached out to brush against his cheek lightly and she barely noticed she had done it until she felt his skin warm to her touch, "I think about you all the time."
He lifted his hand to curl around hers, and turning his head he pressed a soft kiss to her palm. Using that touch for leverage he tugged her a bit closer, leaning in to kiss her softly, letting his free hand slide into her hair, tangling there for a moment before he eased back. "I should have left days ago," he admitted quietly, "But I find I don't really want to go."
The kiss, despite soft and polite stilled a part of her in a moment and as he eased back and continued with his own confession her eyes met his, features softening by the truth. "I know... and I know you should leave, but I don't want you to. I like knowing that I can see you in the middle of the day, or at the end of an even longer one, and I shouldn't even be thinking that you'd be anywhere even close enough for that." She moved forward letting her forehead press to his shoulder a bit, moving closer to him once more. "It's not the risk, or the danger I'm drawn to either... it's you."
Against every ounce of better judgment, he slid his arms around her, palms against her back, then one sliding to stroke over her bent head. He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I wasn't lying when I said I had thought about you a lot.." Though that wasn't really a time he wanted to bring to the forefront of her memory. But it had happened, and he was still that man, and he still had the capability of that and more inside of him. Even so, he just brushed over it for now. "Ever since Brazil, you pop in my head at the oddest moments, wondering a lot of pointless what ifs..."
Nodding against his shoulder she felt the press of his mouth to her temple. She pulled in a bit closer at the restatement of a moment she preferred not to address, but knew that it wasn't something he wanted to reminder her of either. She remembered coming back from Brazil, all a flutter at meeting someone and knowing that unfortunately she'd never see him again, and being upset at that thought. Then she did see him again, and she wasn't allowed to be happy about it. "I thought about Bob... the guy I met in Brazil, and then there was the truth... and now there is you, and I like being with you more."
He smiled a little at that, though part of him wondered just why she'd like him better, knowing the truth. But he wasn't going to question small favors, no matter how unlikely they would have seemed before. He kept stroking lightly through her hair. "It's crazy. You know that."
Laughing lightly she shifted her head aside, letting her cheek press to him, "Oh I'm well aware of the crazy, but I don't even care." Having it out there felt less weird than she had thought as well. Pulling back from him she met his eyes, "You make me happy, I mean... honestly happy, and I'm not sure why it's a bad thing, but it feels like I shouldn't be allowed to be happy because it's you."
He pulled her close again and turned his head to bury his face in her hair, breathing her in. Swallowing a bit he breathed out on a slight sigh. "I'm not quite sure I've ever known what honestly happy feels like...." There was always something, always that faint sense of craving that never left, the holes inside that never filled. Triumph, ambition, thrilled...those he knew. "But sometimes, when I'm with you, I think maybe it exists." He sighed slightly, pulling back again. "You probably shouldn't be, because it's me."
It made her chest tighten to hear him breathe her in so deeply, and in the same way her heart ache to realize that he wasn't even sure he'd ever been happy before. To know she gave him that thought... that slight chance drew her bottom lip in against her teeth. As he pulled back again she wasn't sure what to say to him now. It had been a little more than a week of spending almost every free moment with him, and missing him when he wasn't there. It was a little over a year ago that he'd made that impression on her... left that mark of a man that she knew she fit to. And now knew more than ever that she could be with and not worry about finding out the truth, because the truth was there already. "Too late," she teased, "you couldn't tell me not to anyway. Is this ever going to actually work? I mean... I keep better tabs on you than APO... but one day you're going to slide across the table toward me in a file..."
And that was the crux of it, really. He knew well he couldn't really walk away from what he did, and any government that would have him would still be an enemy of hers. He met her eyes, as frankly as he could. "One day I will," he said, unwilling to make promises he couldn't, or wouldn't keep. "Whether it ever works depends on if you can handle that."
She searched his eyes looking for answers, but finding more questions instead. Ones she didn't even know where there until now. Up until this point it had been sex, and enjoying his company and knowing she could be comfortable around him and not worry that he'd laugh at her for picking apart scenes in movies, and that she wouldn't ask him where he was before he was with her. "Do you want me to be able to handle it though? Is being with me..." she paused not even sure of the words she wanted to use at the moment, afraid they were too soon, or too anything but the right ones to use, "Is this what you could want? Take out food and movies on the couch when you're in town? Text messages and comments when you're not? Would I be enough?" It hurt to think that she wasn't like the others, that she wasn't out there making him see what she did or prove herself as an equal... she had read the file when it first crossed her desk. Never since then though, but she still knew she wasn't them.
The question hadn't even occurred to him, honestly. It was new, different, nothing like what he'd had with anyone before. But he'd laughed more in the last two weeks than he had in the last two years. It wasn't just the sex. It was the gentle teasing afterward, the way she got his sense of humor, didn't twist things out of shape, gave as good as she got. He brought his fingers up to cradle her cheek, trying to find the words to express his uncertainty around his cynical view of the world that didn't know how to do any of this. "I...This is very new for me," he admitted, voice quiet. "All of it. I don't know where it fits with the rest of my life, with who I am, have always been. But I cannot imagine you ever not being enough. And I...as crazy and foolhardy as it probably is, I'd like to find out."
Rachel leaned in brushing her lips softly against his, in something that was almost a kiss but felt more like soft reassurance that he was actually there, and the words had come from him... in that moment. Because she never even thought he'd say it. There had been moments when something would slip from either of them, something more than the other might have expected and yet this was asked for by her and he gave... and she accepted it simply as what it was. She didn't want to look further than what was given as answer, and didn't want to try and understand why or how she ended up where she was. This was where she was and he was there standing before her saying things that any woman would give her right lung to hear from a man. Smiling softly as she regarded him she knew this was honest from him, "I can handle that, and I can handle the work thing, and if this reaches a point where you end up in a file that I have to review? I'll handle that too." Smirking she teased lightly, "You should already be well aware of my handling skills."
He returned the kiss just as soft, watching her when she pulled back with still wary eyes, waiting for her words, and only when they came did he relax at all. He smirked at her final comment, a bit more on familiar ground with that sort of commentary. "I would say your handling skills are quite capable, yes," he murmured, still watching her. Part of him felt the need to press the issue, to make his stand that he wasn't giving up what he did, warn her there would be no reforming, and make sure she really knew that it was highly likely he'd end up in a file on her desk or a debriefing with her boss. If past experiences were anything to go by, it was possible they'd even end up on the same job, on opposite sides. God knew avoiding Sydney had been rather impossible for years, and if Rachel were to be active in the field...his clients usually wanted things her bosses didn't want them to have. It was all there in his eyes, over-thinking, overanalyzing, looking at the situation from various angles. It waited there to be said, and he wondered if it needed to be, or if she was as aware of it as he. Denial had really never been something he enjoyed engaging in for too long.
She knew that there was still a lot of difficult issues out there, and that the odds were really stacked against them. Not just in the worry about a file, or anything that she might get sent out to do... to stop him, but in the now of it all she wasn't really sure if she wanted to press the matter. She knew he wasn't going to stop, and really she wasn't even sure she'd been thinking he'd change anyway. But the silence there, between them, was immeasurable and her instinct was to simply kiss him, to put something tangible in the space just to stop the silence. But that wasn't talking, and really they were supposed to be talking. "I'd never expect you to change you know... sure it'd be nice to not have that worry, but if I really was looking for something different? I wouldn't be here, with you in my living room."
After the reception he'd tended to get from most of her friends, even when they were ostensibly working on the same side, it was very odd to not have the very nature of who he was held against him. Sydney's antipathy ran so deep he doubted there was a thing in the world he could do to reverse it, and he knew she and Rachel were close. That seemed to hammer home the secrecy they'd have to maintain, and he had to wonder when it would bear down on her, if it would break her...and he really was borrowing trouble. So, he smiled a half sort of smile and brushed her hair back behind her ear. "That's good to know," he said quietly. "And...moving forward, not telling your friends, everyone here you care about--jobs aside, you know they'd never accept this. That's all right?"
It had been a bit more than a week, but it was a lot of time spent together crammed into those hours... days... and the fact that they both had thought of the other in odd moments throughout the year had to add into something. It at least had to add into why they had to have this talk, because there was something there worth figuring out. Which was an admittance and a half for her even in her own mind. Resting her hand on his shoulder, she scratched her nails against the fabric of his shirt casually, not really scratching, but still getting that slight numbing feeling beneath her fingernails as she thought about it. It was a lot, even for a spy, even for a spy that worked with a man that had been married to a woman that had lied to him for years... and another that had been in her shoes eight years earlier with SD-6 lying to her. "Well it's not all right, I mean... it's completely wrong, and I know that. But I also know that what I do on my own time is my own business, and as long as it's not creating a direct conflict? Not affecting my work? They shouldn't have a say." Her gaze feel to her hand, resting on his shoulder for a moment before meeting his eyes again, "Moving forward..." sighing she wasn't sure what to say, "I think we owe it to ourselves to try and move forward and find out the what if."
And when it created a direct conflict...he'd have to hope she'd find a way to do her job without completely selling him out. Of course, that was highly unlikely, and one of the factors he had to consider. One, he supposed, she did, too. What would they do when it happened? It wasn't a question they could answer tonight, he recognized. But admitting this was more than just casual sex with the spice of being forbidden to it raised the questions more loudly than it would have. Though, of course, in their business, any plans for the future had to be considered contingent on still being alive anyway, so. His hand slid to brush down her neck, curl lightly there and he shifted to rest his forehead against hers. "I still say it's madness, that there are actual rules against this for a reason, for both of us, but...we're both still here, and I very much want to find out the what if."
The press of his forehead to hers grounded her for a moment, once more reminding her that this was really happening. She did have Julian Sark in her living room pressed close to her, actually talking about finding out if there was more than incredible sex to the two of them together. It wasn't just keeping him apart from her job.. it was the fact that at the end of the day if she came home to find him she would have to keep her job apart from him as well. A bad day for her... could be a good day for him, and that was more of what she was concerned with in the moment. Maybe that was how it was supposed to be if she had been with anyone at all. She already had to lie to almost everyone else as it is... and meeting a guy... any guy even proved difficult and now she had one that knew who she was. No lies. No false job. It was as close to acceptance for herself as she figured she'd ever really get. "Whatever the reasons are for the rules... right now I don't care," she confessed as she leaned forward to kiss him.
If he'd been more honorable, he probably would have protested she should care. If he'd been less selfish, he would have walked away, simply to keep her from getting hurt--either for breaking the rules that could cost her a job she loved, or for what she'd have to do when he did something APO chose to act on. But honor and selflessness were not really traits Irina had worked to install in him. He wanted her. He wanted to be with her. And, really, it was as simple as that, in the end. He'd had his brief struggle with a latent conscience, but at the touch of her lips, he pushed it aside. Michael and Sydney and the rest of them could go hang, and if she got in trouble because of him...he'd still be there. The fingers on her neck slid into her hair as he returned her kiss with an answering resolve.
She knew that this was clearly the wrong way to do this, to fall further into whatever it was with him. She knew that the easy way out would've been to lie to him. To tell him that all it was to her was that risk, that danger of it all. That the forbidden had made it something she ached for. The truth felt so much easier to say though, that she simply ached for him. The return of her kiss, the way his fingers threaded into her hair, she couldn't help but let her hand slip from against his shoulder to down his arm to lace around his side, pulling herself close to him. Rachel parted from the kiss, with a near moment of laughter, "Well we know we can do that, and apparently we're not too bad at talking either."
He gave her a wry smile, catching his lip for a moment, then half-shrugging. "The talking part like this is...new as well." Just a half-sort of confession. A warning, maybe, that he wasn't sure it would always be so easy, but this had been pressing, something he'd wanted to know before he left, before she went home for her break. Should he come back? A simple question, maybe, but laced with so many things of ... well. They could have kept it just illicit sex, he supposed, but he was fairly certain he oughtn't have been curled up with movies and take out if that was the case. He ought to have sent her back home after, left here after, not bought her presents, not...a lot of things he'd been doing, really. The thinking about more than just the sexual parts, but the way she smiled, and the way he felt a glow of triumph every time he coaxed a genuine one out of her. "But," he allowed, "Even with no frame of reference, I suppose we aren't doing so badly at it."
Shaking her head a bit she laughed at his admittance, and really the notion of the man who was currently number 8 on the CIA's Most Wanted List having this sort of discussion with anyone, let alone her was pretty ridiculous in her mind, probably in his as well. Curling up a bit in his arms she rested her head on his shoulder, "Not bad at all, and trust me I'm not an expert in this field either. There is a reason why most people with my job are the type to not really have relationships, and it's not due to lack of looking good in wigs and dresses."
He tightened his arms around her a bit to hold her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple. The laughter got a wry smile. He supposed some people at least had some sort of discussion come up in secondary school or university, but. Ah well. "Well, no. It could never be due to a lack of looking good, as I recall," he said with a small grin that sobered. "But there's a reason people with my job don't as well...especially considering how my last two attempts at actual relationships ended." There were good reasons for sticking to one night stands, sometimes.
Her hand strayed against the back of his neck as her arm shifted to hold around his shoulders a bit. Not even wanting to think of what could've happened had Tom. Pushing the thought away from herself almost feeling a twinge of guilt thinking about him while standing in the arms of the man that set the bomb in the first place... which was altogether another train of thought she really wanted to derail at the moment. So instead she took in a deep breath, taking in the scent of him, and the feel of his shirt against her cheek and the faint sound of his heart beating beneath his chest. Exhaling she pulled away from him not even meeting his eyes before pressing a kiss to his mouth firmly. Catching his bottom lip between hers, and just holding the kiss that bordered on lingering too long before she pulled away, with a near smirk and a bit of a more secure sense of self, "I'm starving."
He arched an eyebrow at the smirk, tongue tasting the taste of her on his lips, still. He pushed back the so very unusual for him lingering worries, and just accepted. She was here, she wanted to be here, and he'd enjoy it for as long as they were able to make it last. His lips quirked a bit in amusement at the phrase that he could interpret a few different ways. Truth was, he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and whatever she'd brought home with her smelled good, though so did she. Either interpretation worked for him. "We should do something about that, then."
Nodding she glanced over his shoulder toward the kitchen, "I did bring food, and you set out the wine..." Her words trailed off a bit at that, finding herself starting to walk backward tugging him along with her, "Which has been breathing... and breathing is good," she continued as she walked backward with him still held close to her. "And please don't let me hit any walls," she asked between sentences, "because I'm learning about wine and it needs air, but the food I got doesn't really need to sit out any longer."
He steered her lightly around a wall, and into the kitchen, a small smirk on his lips as she sort of babbled in a very adorable fashion that he could, for once, not feel bad about finding adorable, because he was allowed to think that now, wasn't he? "You've been learning about wine? Very impressive. It should be ready to drink by now, too, really. With the food. That we should eat..." If nothing else, they needed to keep their strength up.
Nodding she smirked, "Oh I'm quite impressive, and I'm also a fast learner." She glanced over her shoulder to the kitchen where they were slowly closing in on. As soon as they'd made it into the entryway she twisted around completely letting his hands settle against her hips as she finished tugging him the rest of the way now by default into the kitchen. Her hand strayed up to the back of his head, scratching lightly in his hair as she came up to the counter, then pulled away so she could take the food out of the bag hoping it hadn't gotten cold while they had the talk. The talk that actually didn't go horrible, and maybe wasn't such a bad thing so early in whatever this way. There were obstacles that were bigger than most people had to deal with, but unlike most people they knew the problem right up front. The only thing they had to actually worry about now was when the problem actually became an issue, and if they'd be able to handle whatever came their way.
my_strappyshoes. Set several days after the previous and there's a scene in between the earlier one and this one that is still in progress. PG/work safe.]April 9, 2008
Sark had let himself in, having the codes by now, and really, getting into a condo, even one owned by an APO agent was child's play. She could likely get into any of his just as easily, if she had the location. The idea of her in one of the myriad places--more safehouses than homes--he'd purchased through the years just made the nervousness peak again. He'd never done this sort of talk, ever. There'd been no need. He and Allison had been young, rash, high on their own power and the illicitness of their work. He and Lauren had just...fit with and against and into each other. The barbed taunts were as much foreplay as anything else, repaid in full later, and there was never a need for ... this. But this, her, here, was different, really mostly because of her job, and his and the way they clashed. Random hookups were one thing, but this, dinner and movies and dancing and blenders was feeling like more than that, and even he knew they had to at least lay ground rules, figure some things out, before it imploded on them in messy and not-fun ways. He'd gotten wine, and he opened it to let it breathe, as well as to give himself something to do. She was bringing food, which meant there was very little for him to do but wait.
He hated waiting.
Rachel had left work later than she had anticipated, and wished she hadn't been locked into a boardroom during that time. As soon as she got out she texted him to let him know she was on her way. Phoning the order into the Chinese restaurant on the way to her place from her car, she made her way from work to the restaurant to her condo within a short twenty minute span. Parking her car in the driveway she assumed his was in the garage and she didn't even care. Her keys slipped into the lock and she balanced the bag of take out in her arm as she took a deep breath and pushed into the door. She didn't bother calling out to him as if he had been waiting for her, instead she just moved into the kitchen setting the food on the counter and exhaling once more. The nervousness in her stomach wasn't new to her, but it was new to something like this. It wasn't that she expected the long weekend and the appliances... but she was thinking far too much about him and he had a right to know. Leaving the kitchen she caught sight of the bottle of wine open and getting air and she moved into the living room to find him looking at the books on her bookshelf. "Hey," she started out as she moved to lean against the bookcase that he was studying. "I brought Chinese back." She wanted to kiss him, to just move against him and lean into his shoulder, but that was the problem. That was why they had to talk, because she had these impulses and sometimes they weren't just about sex.
He looked up when he heard her coming in the room, trying to calm the flutter of nerves that he was exceptionally unused to feeling. His lips curved in a small smile, glancing at her, meeting her eyes. The email had helped, except, really, not. Helped that she wasn't being short, not with knowing she was just as much...on a ledge as he was. One of them needed to be sensible, his rational mind insisted. This couldn't work as more than this for any number of reasons. Even what it was, what they pretended it was, could hardly be considered wise. And heart to heart talks had never been his strong point on his best day. He was too used to hiding behind the sarcasm and the smirks. Though he supposed he could still get through this with that. Only he was just sort of looking at her, aware he hadn't said anything. "Chinese sounds good," he said quickly, giving her a wry smile and wondering when reaching for her became such a compulsion.
There was a tension in the air and it almost hurt her to feel it. This wasn't really what she had thought she'd come home to, but the more she thought about it the less she really knew what she was coming home to, and the less she said the more she wanted to just say something... anything. Her hand reached out to brush against his cheek lightly and she barely noticed she had done it until she felt his skin warm to her touch, "I think about you all the time."
He lifted his hand to curl around hers, and turning his head he pressed a soft kiss to her palm. Using that touch for leverage he tugged her a bit closer, leaning in to kiss her softly, letting his free hand slide into her hair, tangling there for a moment before he eased back. "I should have left days ago," he admitted quietly, "But I find I don't really want to go."
The kiss, despite soft and polite stilled a part of her in a moment and as he eased back and continued with his own confession her eyes met his, features softening by the truth. "I know... and I know you should leave, but I don't want you to. I like knowing that I can see you in the middle of the day, or at the end of an even longer one, and I shouldn't even be thinking that you'd be anywhere even close enough for that." She moved forward letting her forehead press to his shoulder a bit, moving closer to him once more. "It's not the risk, or the danger I'm drawn to either... it's you."
Against every ounce of better judgment, he slid his arms around her, palms against her back, then one sliding to stroke over her bent head. He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I wasn't lying when I said I had thought about you a lot.." Though that wasn't really a time he wanted to bring to the forefront of her memory. But it had happened, and he was still that man, and he still had the capability of that and more inside of him. Even so, he just brushed over it for now. "Ever since Brazil, you pop in my head at the oddest moments, wondering a lot of pointless what ifs..."
Nodding against his shoulder she felt the press of his mouth to her temple. She pulled in a bit closer at the restatement of a moment she preferred not to address, but knew that it wasn't something he wanted to reminder her of either. She remembered coming back from Brazil, all a flutter at meeting someone and knowing that unfortunately she'd never see him again, and being upset at that thought. Then she did see him again, and she wasn't allowed to be happy about it. "I thought about Bob... the guy I met in Brazil, and then there was the truth... and now there is you, and I like being with you more."
He smiled a little at that, though part of him wondered just why she'd like him better, knowing the truth. But he wasn't going to question small favors, no matter how unlikely they would have seemed before. He kept stroking lightly through her hair. "It's crazy. You know that."
Laughing lightly she shifted her head aside, letting her cheek press to him, "Oh I'm well aware of the crazy, but I don't even care." Having it out there felt less weird than she had thought as well. Pulling back from him she met his eyes, "You make me happy, I mean... honestly happy, and I'm not sure why it's a bad thing, but it feels like I shouldn't be allowed to be happy because it's you."
He pulled her close again and turned his head to bury his face in her hair, breathing her in. Swallowing a bit he breathed out on a slight sigh. "I'm not quite sure I've ever known what honestly happy feels like...." There was always something, always that faint sense of craving that never left, the holes inside that never filled. Triumph, ambition, thrilled...those he knew. "But sometimes, when I'm with you, I think maybe it exists." He sighed slightly, pulling back again. "You probably shouldn't be, because it's me."
It made her chest tighten to hear him breathe her in so deeply, and in the same way her heart ache to realize that he wasn't even sure he'd ever been happy before. To know she gave him that thought... that slight chance drew her bottom lip in against her teeth. As he pulled back again she wasn't sure what to say to him now. It had been a little more than a week of spending almost every free moment with him, and missing him when he wasn't there. It was a little over a year ago that he'd made that impression on her... left that mark of a man that she knew she fit to. And now knew more than ever that she could be with and not worry about finding out the truth, because the truth was there already. "Too late," she teased, "you couldn't tell me not to anyway. Is this ever going to actually work? I mean... I keep better tabs on you than APO... but one day you're going to slide across the table toward me in a file..."
And that was the crux of it, really. He knew well he couldn't really walk away from what he did, and any government that would have him would still be an enemy of hers. He met her eyes, as frankly as he could. "One day I will," he said, unwilling to make promises he couldn't, or wouldn't keep. "Whether it ever works depends on if you can handle that."
She searched his eyes looking for answers, but finding more questions instead. Ones she didn't even know where there until now. Up until this point it had been sex, and enjoying his company and knowing she could be comfortable around him and not worry that he'd laugh at her for picking apart scenes in movies, and that she wouldn't ask him where he was before he was with her. "Do you want me to be able to handle it though? Is being with me..." she paused not even sure of the words she wanted to use at the moment, afraid they were too soon, or too anything but the right ones to use, "Is this what you could want? Take out food and movies on the couch when you're in town? Text messages and comments when you're not? Would I be enough?" It hurt to think that she wasn't like the others, that she wasn't out there making him see what she did or prove herself as an equal... she had read the file when it first crossed her desk. Never since then though, but she still knew she wasn't them.
The question hadn't even occurred to him, honestly. It was new, different, nothing like what he'd had with anyone before. But he'd laughed more in the last two weeks than he had in the last two years. It wasn't just the sex. It was the gentle teasing afterward, the way she got his sense of humor, didn't twist things out of shape, gave as good as she got. He brought his fingers up to cradle her cheek, trying to find the words to express his uncertainty around his cynical view of the world that didn't know how to do any of this. "I...This is very new for me," he admitted, voice quiet. "All of it. I don't know where it fits with the rest of my life, with who I am, have always been. But I cannot imagine you ever not being enough. And I...as crazy and foolhardy as it probably is, I'd like to find out."
Rachel leaned in brushing her lips softly against his, in something that was almost a kiss but felt more like soft reassurance that he was actually there, and the words had come from him... in that moment. Because she never even thought he'd say it. There had been moments when something would slip from either of them, something more than the other might have expected and yet this was asked for by her and he gave... and she accepted it simply as what it was. She didn't want to look further than what was given as answer, and didn't want to try and understand why or how she ended up where she was. This was where she was and he was there standing before her saying things that any woman would give her right lung to hear from a man. Smiling softly as she regarded him she knew this was honest from him, "I can handle that, and I can handle the work thing, and if this reaches a point where you end up in a file that I have to review? I'll handle that too." Smirking she teased lightly, "You should already be well aware of my handling skills."
He returned the kiss just as soft, watching her when she pulled back with still wary eyes, waiting for her words, and only when they came did he relax at all. He smirked at her final comment, a bit more on familiar ground with that sort of commentary. "I would say your handling skills are quite capable, yes," he murmured, still watching her. Part of him felt the need to press the issue, to make his stand that he wasn't giving up what he did, warn her there would be no reforming, and make sure she really knew that it was highly likely he'd end up in a file on her desk or a debriefing with her boss. If past experiences were anything to go by, it was possible they'd even end up on the same job, on opposite sides. God knew avoiding Sydney had been rather impossible for years, and if Rachel were to be active in the field...his clients usually wanted things her bosses didn't want them to have. It was all there in his eyes, over-thinking, overanalyzing, looking at the situation from various angles. It waited there to be said, and he wondered if it needed to be, or if she was as aware of it as he. Denial had really never been something he enjoyed engaging in for too long.
She knew that there was still a lot of difficult issues out there, and that the odds were really stacked against them. Not just in the worry about a file, or anything that she might get sent out to do... to stop him, but in the now of it all she wasn't really sure if she wanted to press the matter. She knew he wasn't going to stop, and really she wasn't even sure she'd been thinking he'd change anyway. But the silence there, between them, was immeasurable and her instinct was to simply kiss him, to put something tangible in the space just to stop the silence. But that wasn't talking, and really they were supposed to be talking. "I'd never expect you to change you know... sure it'd be nice to not have that worry, but if I really was looking for something different? I wouldn't be here, with you in my living room."
After the reception he'd tended to get from most of her friends, even when they were ostensibly working on the same side, it was very odd to not have the very nature of who he was held against him. Sydney's antipathy ran so deep he doubted there was a thing in the world he could do to reverse it, and he knew she and Rachel were close. That seemed to hammer home the secrecy they'd have to maintain, and he had to wonder when it would bear down on her, if it would break her...and he really was borrowing trouble. So, he smiled a half sort of smile and brushed her hair back behind her ear. "That's good to know," he said quietly. "And...moving forward, not telling your friends, everyone here you care about--jobs aside, you know they'd never accept this. That's all right?"
It had been a bit more than a week, but it was a lot of time spent together crammed into those hours... days... and the fact that they both had thought of the other in odd moments throughout the year had to add into something. It at least had to add into why they had to have this talk, because there was something there worth figuring out. Which was an admittance and a half for her even in her own mind. Resting her hand on his shoulder, she scratched her nails against the fabric of his shirt casually, not really scratching, but still getting that slight numbing feeling beneath her fingernails as she thought about it. It was a lot, even for a spy, even for a spy that worked with a man that had been married to a woman that had lied to him for years... and another that had been in her shoes eight years earlier with SD-6 lying to her. "Well it's not all right, I mean... it's completely wrong, and I know that. But I also know that what I do on my own time is my own business, and as long as it's not creating a direct conflict? Not affecting my work? They shouldn't have a say." Her gaze feel to her hand, resting on his shoulder for a moment before meeting his eyes again, "Moving forward..." sighing she wasn't sure what to say, "I think we owe it to ourselves to try and move forward and find out the what if."
And when it created a direct conflict...he'd have to hope she'd find a way to do her job without completely selling him out. Of course, that was highly unlikely, and one of the factors he had to consider. One, he supposed, she did, too. What would they do when it happened? It wasn't a question they could answer tonight, he recognized. But admitting this was more than just casual sex with the spice of being forbidden to it raised the questions more loudly than it would have. Though, of course, in their business, any plans for the future had to be considered contingent on still being alive anyway, so. His hand slid to brush down her neck, curl lightly there and he shifted to rest his forehead against hers. "I still say it's madness, that there are actual rules against this for a reason, for both of us, but...we're both still here, and I very much want to find out the what if."
The press of his forehead to hers grounded her for a moment, once more reminding her that this was really happening. She did have Julian Sark in her living room pressed close to her, actually talking about finding out if there was more than incredible sex to the two of them together. It wasn't just keeping him apart from her job.. it was the fact that at the end of the day if she came home to find him she would have to keep her job apart from him as well. A bad day for her... could be a good day for him, and that was more of what she was concerned with in the moment. Maybe that was how it was supposed to be if she had been with anyone at all. She already had to lie to almost everyone else as it is... and meeting a guy... any guy even proved difficult and now she had one that knew who she was. No lies. No false job. It was as close to acceptance for herself as she figured she'd ever really get. "Whatever the reasons are for the rules... right now I don't care," she confessed as she leaned forward to kiss him.
If he'd been more honorable, he probably would have protested she should care. If he'd been less selfish, he would have walked away, simply to keep her from getting hurt--either for breaking the rules that could cost her a job she loved, or for what she'd have to do when he did something APO chose to act on. But honor and selflessness were not really traits Irina had worked to install in him. He wanted her. He wanted to be with her. And, really, it was as simple as that, in the end. He'd had his brief struggle with a latent conscience, but at the touch of her lips, he pushed it aside. Michael and Sydney and the rest of them could go hang, and if she got in trouble because of him...he'd still be there. The fingers on her neck slid into her hair as he returned her kiss with an answering resolve.
She knew that this was clearly the wrong way to do this, to fall further into whatever it was with him. She knew that the easy way out would've been to lie to him. To tell him that all it was to her was that risk, that danger of it all. That the forbidden had made it something she ached for. The truth felt so much easier to say though, that she simply ached for him. The return of her kiss, the way his fingers threaded into her hair, she couldn't help but let her hand slip from against his shoulder to down his arm to lace around his side, pulling herself close to him. Rachel parted from the kiss, with a near moment of laughter, "Well we know we can do that, and apparently we're not too bad at talking either."
He gave her a wry smile, catching his lip for a moment, then half-shrugging. "The talking part like this is...new as well." Just a half-sort of confession. A warning, maybe, that he wasn't sure it would always be so easy, but this had been pressing, something he'd wanted to know before he left, before she went home for her break. Should he come back? A simple question, maybe, but laced with so many things of ... well. They could have kept it just illicit sex, he supposed, but he was fairly certain he oughtn't have been curled up with movies and take out if that was the case. He ought to have sent her back home after, left here after, not bought her presents, not...a lot of things he'd been doing, really. The thinking about more than just the sexual parts, but the way she smiled, and the way he felt a glow of triumph every time he coaxed a genuine one out of her. "But," he allowed, "Even with no frame of reference, I suppose we aren't doing so badly at it."
Shaking her head a bit she laughed at his admittance, and really the notion of the man who was currently number 8 on the CIA's Most Wanted List having this sort of discussion with anyone, let alone her was pretty ridiculous in her mind, probably in his as well. Curling up a bit in his arms she rested her head on his shoulder, "Not bad at all, and trust me I'm not an expert in this field either. There is a reason why most people with my job are the type to not really have relationships, and it's not due to lack of looking good in wigs and dresses."
He tightened his arms around her a bit to hold her closer, pressing a kiss to her temple. The laughter got a wry smile. He supposed some people at least had some sort of discussion come up in secondary school or university, but. Ah well. "Well, no. It could never be due to a lack of looking good, as I recall," he said with a small grin that sobered. "But there's a reason people with my job don't as well...especially considering how my last two attempts at actual relationships ended." There were good reasons for sticking to one night stands, sometimes.
Her hand strayed against the back of his neck as her arm shifted to hold around his shoulders a bit. Not even wanting to think of what could've happened had Tom. Pushing the thought away from herself almost feeling a twinge of guilt thinking about him while standing in the arms of the man that set the bomb in the first place... which was altogether another train of thought she really wanted to derail at the moment. So instead she took in a deep breath, taking in the scent of him, and the feel of his shirt against her cheek and the faint sound of his heart beating beneath his chest. Exhaling she pulled away from him not even meeting his eyes before pressing a kiss to his mouth firmly. Catching his bottom lip between hers, and just holding the kiss that bordered on lingering too long before she pulled away, with a near smirk and a bit of a more secure sense of self, "I'm starving."
He arched an eyebrow at the smirk, tongue tasting the taste of her on his lips, still. He pushed back the so very unusual for him lingering worries, and just accepted. She was here, she wanted to be here, and he'd enjoy it for as long as they were able to make it last. His lips quirked a bit in amusement at the phrase that he could interpret a few different ways. Truth was, he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and whatever she'd brought home with her smelled good, though so did she. Either interpretation worked for him. "We should do something about that, then."
Nodding she glanced over his shoulder toward the kitchen, "I did bring food, and you set out the wine..." Her words trailed off a bit at that, finding herself starting to walk backward tugging him along with her, "Which has been breathing... and breathing is good," she continued as she walked backward with him still held close to her. "And please don't let me hit any walls," she asked between sentences, "because I'm learning about wine and it needs air, but the food I got doesn't really need to sit out any longer."
He steered her lightly around a wall, and into the kitchen, a small smirk on his lips as she sort of babbled in a very adorable fashion that he could, for once, not feel bad about finding adorable, because he was allowed to think that now, wasn't he? "You've been learning about wine? Very impressive. It should be ready to drink by now, too, really. With the food. That we should eat..." If nothing else, they needed to keep their strength up.
Nodding she smirked, "Oh I'm quite impressive, and I'm also a fast learner." She glanced over her shoulder to the kitchen where they were slowly closing in on. As soon as they'd made it into the entryway she twisted around completely letting his hands settle against her hips as she finished tugging him the rest of the way now by default into the kitchen. Her hand strayed up to the back of his head, scratching lightly in his hair as she came up to the counter, then pulled away so she could take the food out of the bag hoping it hadn't gotten cold while they had the talk. The talk that actually didn't go horrible, and maybe wasn't such a bad thing so early in whatever this way. There were obstacles that were bigger than most people had to deal with, but unlike most people they knew the problem right up front. The only thing they had to actually worry about now was when the problem actually became an issue, and if they'd be able to handle whatever came their way.
