britt
Seriously Infected
Posts: 91
|
Post by britt on Oct 22, 2005 22:32:43 GMT -5
I can't wait to read it! This one is definitely one of my favorites.
|
|
|
|
Post by Lisa Rippner on Oct 23, 2005 19:40:50 GMT -5
It's finally here! Woo! Gosh, this took me forever, and I hope Jackson doesn't seem too ooc in this chapter. I kept nit picking him but then I just gave up. But anywhere, here it is! I hope you guys like it, and thank you for your kind comments and patience! Much love!
Conditional: Chapter 10
Lisa leaned her head back, brow furrowed, as Jackson took up a hand and slid his fingers through her hair. His lips were passionate on hers, and she could barely think, let alone fight back. Only small inaudible murmurs fell from her mouth and into his. He seemed to need her with that kiss, seemed to ache for their bickering and physical fights, their drunken conversations, and the closeness resulting from heady kisses and pressed bodies. Jackson nuzzled her as he released her lips, breathily heavily and staring searchingly into her tearless eyes. Lisa held his gaze with compassion, but the connection left her pained and she turned away, horrified.
Lisa swallowed, her eyes resting sharply on the left half of the ship’s deck. “Get away from me, Jackson,” she said seriously, flickering her gaze to him as she fought to keep her emotions in check.
“Lise,” he said calmly, cupping her cheek against his palm, “look at me.” She shook her head and glared defensively.
“I said,” she reiterated, “Get away.”
“Well, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said. “All part of the job, remember?”
“Yeah,” Lisa remarked, “this is very professional.” Jackson sighed, gathering her chin into the tips of his fingers.
“Come on, you’re at least having dinner with me,” he said, backing away. Lisa stared. That was it? No attempts to explain himself, no excuses or words of persuasion? Jackson responded to her blank expression by extending his hand. “You have to get ready,” he continued. After another pause Lisa nodded, and detached herself from the railing. Her steps at his side were hesitant, but they slowly made their way down to their room.
“Everything you need should be in here,” Jackson informed her, placing a wide black suitcase into her arms. She took it quickly and made her way into the bathroom, switching on the light and locking the door behind her. The interior of the room was more or less in the same fashion as the bedroom. The walls were the same beige color, and on them hung two blue-framed prints. The sink was a cool, clean silver, and Lisa gathered the running water in her cupped hands, rinsing off her fingers and face before glancing to the clear glass shower. Thank you Lisa mentally smiled to no one in particular.
The warm water and soap that ran over her dirt and sweat stained skin were heaven sent, and she reveled in the cleanliness that resulted. But even in the building steam, alone and not plagued by Jackson’s constant, unrestrained proximity, she couldn’t clear her mind. The feel of his lips on hers seemed permanent, and with every drop of water that fell over her mouth she remembered the taste of him, remembered the steady, searching looks he had given her. When she opened her eyes, there were tears running hot and slow down her face.
“Damnit!” Lisa breathed angrily, smoothing back her shampooed hair and scrunching up her face as she barely suppressed a string of sobs. As it was Lisa’s style to exchange emotions for tasks, she busied herself with rinsing off. The tears didn’t cease, but soon the water was running cold and she knew she had been in long enough. After turning off the faucet she squeezed out her hair and towel dried her body, then went for the suitcase. The locks were easy to unhook, and Lisa popped up the lid, staring narrowed eyed into the chest of clothing and accessories.
She pulled out the tops and skirts one by one, noting the moderate colors and conservative lengths. The few pieces of jewelry were relatively plain, only containing one, two jewels at most. Everything was, undeniably, exactly how she liked it. After pursing her lips together in thought she decided on a safe, comfortable light blue top that stopped at her elbows and created an oval dip along her chest. The skirt she chose was plain black, and it flowed about at her knees. Lisa frowned as she put the clothing on; they both fit her like a glove. She towel dried her hair once more before reaching for the complimentary blow dryer attached to the wall.
After fifteen minutes or so of fussing with her curls she put everything down, and had to restrain a smile at her reflection. Much better, she thought. A knock came at the door, and Lisa jumped slightly. “Finally ready, Lise?” Jackson asked. Without answering, she quickly re-packed her things, only stopping to slide on a silver bracelet, and breathed in deeply before hesitantly opening the door.
Their eyes met, a green sea being taken over by shards of blue ice. His lips turned upward as he scanned her choice of dress. “I’m a better shopper than I thought,” he admitted smugly.
“Yes, you have a great knack for shopping in the women’s section,” she agreed, amusement hidden in her restrained featured.
“Oh, don’t think I shop there often,” Jackson said. “This was for you. And from the look of it, I know you very well.”
“If I had stalked you for as long as you were following me, I think I’d have a pretty good idea of your taste in wardrobe, too,” she argued calmly. Lisa found she was afraid to admit, even to herself, that Jackson did indeed know her well. Too well.
In response, he simply nodded. Nodded and stared. “Well, should we go?” he asked after a pause.
“It’s not as though I have a choice,” Lisa said, and wound her arm around his outstretched one.
Above their cabin the sun was slowly setting behind the sea, creating a favorable orange glow that landed across the deck. The breeze off the water was becoming cool, and Lisa shivered. “It’ll be warmer inside,” Jackson commented.
He was right. Jackson held the glass, gold-framed double door open for his companion, and she passed through quickly. The inside was elegant; large and lit by a hanging chandelier and congruently placed wall sconces. At the head of the room was a white stage where several nicely suited musicians drifted long fingers over finely tuned instruments. In the middle of them was a pale, long haired women whose voice drifted softly into the microphone. Lisa felt butterflies drift anxiously around her insides as she and Jackson were seated around a round wooden table, clothed with lace and single candle. The intimacy of the setting filled her unease, and she turned her gaze anywhere but at him.
“What would you like to drink?” The waiter’s voice broke through her thoughts. He was a middle-aged man with a completely shaven head and a gracious smile.
“She’ll have a seabreeze, and I’ll have the same. Thank you,” Jackson nodded to the waiter as he left. Then he looked across at Lisa. “Well, what do you think you’ll have?” Lisa parted her lips, but shut them when she saw the menu folded on the table. Grateful for the distraction, she began to slowly eye the names of dishes. The waiter came back quickly, and set down their drinks before heading off. Jackson smiled, and gracefully curled his fingers around the glass. He raised it up.
“For old time’s sake,” he nodded. Lisa did likewise, although mutely, and gulped the alcohol until her glass was nearly empty. Then she went back to her menu. The waiter came back shortly.
“Are you ready to order?” he asked.
“Yes, I’ll have the steak, medium rare, sauce on the side. Lise?”
“Um,” Lisa looked nervously down at her menu. “The seafood platter. Thank you,” she ended shyly, handing over the menu as the waiter collected it.
“So…” Jackson mused when their server had gone, “how do you like the place?”
“It’s fine,” Lisa replied shortly, trying her best to avert his eyes. Before giving up on finding something more interesting to invest her gaze in there was loud, hollow bang from behind her, followed by several uneasy giggles. The lead drummer on stage had somehow lost a vital part to his instrument, which was now rolling along the stage. The cringing man followed after it, took hold of the skidding object, and went sheepishly back to his post. Lisa smiled, even beginning to laugh a little at the incident, and then she stared up at Jackson, who was grinning. With eyebrows raised in good humor he commented, “Oh my.” To Lisa’s surprise she mirrored his amused reaction with that same light-hearted grin, but it faded slowly. Lisa’s eyes fell against the softly lit tablecloth, and she sighed, listening to the woman who sang what Lisa thought were dreary slow songs into the microphone.
“All right you bunch,” the woman cooed once her last song had finished, “I want you to grab that special someone and head out onto the dance floor for this one. Come on, come on,” she urged, waving the giddy couples onto the polished floor. Lisa couldn’t believe she was blushing, but the intense stare she felt Jackson giving her combined with the overly romantic atmosphere made her want to cry.
“Dance with me.”
Lisa looked at Jackson with dumb eyes and slightly raised eyebrows. “What?”
Jackson stood up, and his next statement was not a question. “Dance with me,” he repeated. Lisa’s mouth parted as she stared up at him, but he came around to her side nonetheless and held out a hand.
“I’m not your sweetheart,” she argued softly.
“I didn’t say you were. I only asked for a dance.” Lisa bit her lip, averting his gaze to stare at the sea of happy couples. The music had begun, a soft, lulling melody. Come away with me, and I…
Lisa knew that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and any resistance on her part would end badly. So tremulously, hesitantly, she put her hand in his, and allowed him to help her up. Jackson slithered through the couples, pulling Lisa with him, only stopping when love struck bodies were enclosing them from every side.
Lisa looked up at Jackson, at the guarded, yet searching face that glowed against the soft white light of the stage. Without breaking his gaze he took her hand and placed it on his shoulder, then tucked his hand above her hip. Lisa obligingly took his other hand in hers, her skin placed willingly against his. One final tug took her closer to him, and she shivered, her breathing becoming shallower.
“You know,” Jackson breathed, head tilted into her hair while his words stung hot against her ear, “I wouldn’t have killed you.” Lisa closed her eyes briefly, then lengthened their closeness enough to hold his gaze.
“You didn’t seem too merciful when you held me up by my hair and put a knife to my throat,” she said, eyes narrowed slightly. Jackson smiled, almost nervously, and just for a moment before continuing.
“Well, you put a bullet through me. But trust me, I wouldn’t have killed you,” he amended. Lisa expression turned skeptical. She waited for him to speak further, but he just pulled her closer than before, so that neither could see the other but their chest were brushing.
“What do you want from me Jackson?” she softly question, her words barely muffled by the top of his coat.
The music had stopped, and Jackson let up on his partner, giving that comfortable half smile. But there was something pained in his eyes that made her question her inquiry. “I want you to eat with me,” he said, motioning to where there food was being laid out. Lisa parted her lips to speak again, but Jackson took hold of her hand and led her through the crowd.
Dinner was served.
|
|
|
|
Post by blue-eyed struck on Oct 23, 2005 20:18:09 GMT -5
^Me too Britt. *sigh* I'd like a romantic dinner and dance with Jackson too..  |
|
|
|
Post by this bike is a on Oct 23, 2005 21:19:13 GMT -5
Aw such a lovely chapter. A sigh from me as well. lol, I want to dance with Jacksonn
|
|
|
|
Post by §ilvercell on Nov 16, 2005 20:29:53 GMT -5
MORE!
|
|
|
|
Post by blue-eyed struck on Nov 16, 2005 20:49:38 GMT -5
la la la la la!! Still waiting patiently! la la la la la! Starting to lose that patience! la la la la la!
|
|
|
|
Post by Lisa Rippner on Nov 27, 2005 1:16:10 GMT -5
Chapter 11
The dishes they had each ordered for dinner turned out to be much more fulfilling than the food court spaghetti and ravioli they had enjoyed earlier that day. Unfortunately, Lisa found she wasn’t very hungry to begin with, and so forced the food down only to forgo Jackson’s suspicion. The seafood platter was good, she had to admit, but her stomach tightened with stress and the pain was made worse with the nausea the unwanted meal created.
“You alright there, Lise?” Jackson asked, looking up from his plate.
Lisa swallowed down a breaded shrimp. “Fine,” she lied. After washing down the piece with another swig of her seabreeze, though, she just sat back, watching her companion eat.
“Did you like Chicago?” she asked after a moment.
Jackson had been raising a fork to his mouth, but stopped at her words, and slowly set the utensil down. “Chicago?” he repeated. Lisa nodded. “Not really,” he admitted. “But I did get a start there.”
“In this…business?” she presumed.
“Yes.”
There was another pause, during which time Lisa thought over the possible answers to her next question. “What was your childhood like?”
Jackson smirked. “Trying to get inside my head, Miss Riesert?”
“I was just wondering,” she shrugged, avoiding his eyes once more.
He shifted in his chair, staring intently at the young woman across from him. “Well, I’ll tell you this: it wasn’t so peachy as yours.”
Lisa nodded, somewhat sympathetically, and reached for her glass of vodka. The two of them sat in silence for a while, neither eating, only occasionally taking sips of their drinks. They watched the band play upbeat songs from the stage, and followed the soft lights that circled around the dance floor. Jackson sighed. “Are you done?”
“Yeah,” she said.
Jackson stood up. “Let’s go,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder before heading out.
By the time the couple left the sun had already set, and the view from the deck railing was covered in a deep blue visible only by the gently falling moonlight. The stars were numerous, but partly hidden by thin clouds. Jackson walked casually with Lisa out to the edge, and together they stared at the slowly lapping water.
“What do you need me for?” Lisa asked, craning her neck to watch his reactions. “Don’t you think it’s time you told me?”
“Actually, I don’t. So stop asking,” he said briskly. His gaze never left the sea, although it wavered.
Lisa didn’t know why, but for the first time she avoided a snappy comment for the sake of preventing another argument. She guessed she was tired of fighting with him, but never gave thought to the idea that she didn’t want to ruin this quiet moment of normalcy they were sharing. Apparently, Jackson thought the silence was just as odd, because he turned his face to her and said, “You’re being an awfully compliant hostage.”
Lisa stared pointedly ahead. “I doubt whatever I could say about this mission would make any difference to you, so for the time being my lips are sealed.”
“Good girl,” Jackson smiled, “You’re finally catching on.” There was another pause, during which time he put his hands into his coat pockets. His eyes flickered with surprise, then a slight smile appeared on his lips. “I almost forgot…” he trailed off, taking the object out of his left pocket.
It was a small black box covered in imitation velvet. Inside, as Jackson quickly showed, was a glistening diamond ring. The band was silver, and at the very top was the largest stone pressed between two smaller ones on either side. Lisa looked uneasily at the pricey wedding band.
“Give me your hand,” Jackson commanded, but his eyes were strangely alight.
“Trying to make us official?” she questioned sarcastically, but surrendered her left hand nonetheless.
Jackson held her at the wrist, and was surprisingly gentle when he slid the band along her ring finger. Lisa’s expression turned slowly sad as she watched him perform this action. No man had ever given her a ring before.
Then again, Jackson wasn’t really a man. He was the manager of a terrorist cell.
Lisa’s eyes lingered on the shining object, and she moved her fingers around to watch the glistening effect. Jackson stood patiently at her side, watching for a grander reaction. Then their eyes met, and one look at her heart rendering expression told Jackson not to ask for a kiss from the bride.
--------
Jackson swiped his card through the automatic lock, and opened the door for Lisa and him to enter. After flipping on the light switch he took off his neatly pressed jacket and tossed in carefully onto the bedspread. Lisa continued to look around, obviously still uncomfortable with the living arrangement.
“Well—” Jackson began, but he was cut off by a forceful knock on the door to their room. Lisa watched as his body went rigid, and felt suddenly afraid. “That isn’t room service,” he told her in a hushed voice, striding over and grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. Jackson led her into the bathroom, and closed the door as quietly as possible. After he had gone, Lisa pressed her ear eagerly against the painted wood.
When Jackson finally opened the door a young employee, shorter than himself, stood determinedly in his way. “Can I help you?” Jackson asked.
“Mr. Rippner?” he asked in return.
“Yes. Is there something you need?” he continued compliantly.
“The captain wishes to speak with you, sir. Preferably now.” Something like panic flickered briefly in Jackson’s eyes, but the boy was oblivious the quiet change in him.
“Would you happen to know why?”
“No, sir. I was only sent to bring you.”
“I see,” Jackson nodded. “Well, let me talk with my wife and I’ll be up shortly.”
“I’ll tell him,” the young man said, “thank you.”
Jackson craned his neck both ways before shutting the door. “Lisa,” he called, and she quickly came out of her hiding place between the bathroom door and double sink.
“Why would the captain want to speak with you?” she asked worriedly.
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound too good, does it?” He frowned grimly and reached for the suit jacket he had taken off only moments before.
“If you get caught—”
“If I get caught,” Jackson interrupted, “then you at least know how capable we both are. We’ll think of something.”
Jackson exhaled deeply before the entry door, then took hold of the handle and turned back to Lisa. “Don’t wait up,” he told her, and shut the door behind himself.
|
|
|
|
Post by blue-eyed struck on Nov 27, 2005 1:37:06 GMT -5
*claps* Thanks for the update!  Wonder what the captain needs with him? URGH, cliffhanger! At least their relationship is evolving. She doesn't fight him as much anymore. She's got a wedding ring now. And he actually says, " We'll think of something" SIGH. They're my favorite couple! *Cillian bar for you Lisa as soon as I'm allowed! * |
|
2hot4u
Newly Infected
Posts: 28
|
Post by 2hot4u on Nov 28, 2005 16:20:04 GMT -5
Lisa you should open your own store and sell copies of your great red eye 2 stories!
|
|
Aug 31, 2018 5:37:36 GMT -5