Alias- Jack & Laura

35) Changing Mood

Irina woke, sat up, and decided that she felt much better. She looked around the room and saw that Jack had cleaned up the IV, the syringes, and everything else; he'd even taken the heart monitor off her wrist. She must have been sleeping pretty heavily for that not to wake her up. She glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was after two in the afternoon; she'd been either drugged or asleep for close to five hours.

She swung her leg around to sit on the edge of the bed and looked around for her crutches, only to spot them on the other side of the room. She sighed. Jack must have moved them. "Jack?" she called, hoping he was in hearing range so she didn't have to hop across the room.

He appeared in the doorway a moment later. "I was beginning to think you'd never wake up. Do you need something?"

"My crutches," she said, pointing.

He frowned and went to get them. "Sorry about that," he said as he handed them to her. "They were in the way, so I moved them, but I forgot to bring them back. I promise I wasn't trying to strand you in bed."

She shrugged. "No harm done." She stood and moved toward the dresser.

"How's your stomach? Can I make you some tea or something?"

She turned back toward him. "Tea would be wonderful. Thank you."

"Do you want me to bring it up, or."

"No, I'll come downstairs."

"All right." They stood there looking at each other for a moment, and then Jack turned and left the room.

***

Jack heard Laura coming down the stairs just as he was adding honey and milk to the tea, just the way she liked it. He carried the tea over to the table as she entered, now fully dressed. She smiled as she sat down and put her hands around the warm cup. "Thank you, Jack."

He sat down. "So is there actually a story behind why you take your coffee black, but your tea with milk and sugar?" He had always found that little quirk rather unusual, but she'd just said there wasn't any particular reason.

She took a sip of the tea. "It's really just what I got used to growing up. My parents both drank black coffee, so I drank it that way, too. I only had tea at my music teacher's house, and she served it with milk and sugar-honey if she could get it."

She'd said something about taking music lessons as a child when she'd joined the church choir four years ago, Jack remembered. "So you really did take music lessons?"

She nodded. "I took singing lessons for seven years, starting when I was six. My teacher died when I was thirteen."

"Why wouldn't you ever sing for me?"

Laura frowned and looked down at the table. "I had about a year of secondary school left when my teacher died, and she wanted me to audition at the Moscow Conservatory after that. She was retired, but she'd been a professor there. When she got too sick to teach, she sent me to one of her colleagues to continue my lessons." She paused and looked up, and Jack saw tears in her eyes. "I always thought that my father didn't care what I did with my time, but apparently he was keeping tabs on me. My new teacher was a man; I don't know what my father thought I was doing in his house for an hour, but he beat me that night and forbade me to ever go back. I told him that I was taking singing lessons, and that I wanted to go to the conservatory. My father said he'd heard me sing, and that I was horrible. He said my teachers were just leading me on." She looked down at the table again. "I didn't go back to lessons, and I didn't sing again until Sydney was born. I know it's irrational, but ever since then I've been too nervous to sing in front of anyone by myself. Except Sydney.I started singing her lullabies when she was a baby." She looked up and gave him a small smile. "I used to sing to her in Russian-only when you weren't home- but I stopped that when she was six months old."

Jack smiled and took her hand. "I seriously doubt that a professor of music would give you lessons for seven years if you didn't sing well, Laura."

"I know. It's just."

The phone rang, and Jack got up to answer it. "Hello?"

"May I please speak to Laura Bristow?" a male voice asked.

Jack glanced at her, his thoughts instantly going to the KGB. "May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Dr. Davidson, her advisor."

"Just a minute." He took the phone over to her. "It's Dr. Davidson."

"Dr. Davidson?" Laura said into the phone. Jack moved over to the sink and put away the dishes that had been drying since breakfast as he listened to her side of the conversation. "I'm doing all right. I've got a broken leg, though, and I'm supposed to stay off of it this week. I haven't caused you too many problems, have I?" She paused, then laughed. "That's good. Tell Linda I owe her." Another pause. "Yes, that would be fine. I'll see you later, then."

She said goodbye, and Jack came over to take the phone and hung it up. "He's coming over?"

"He's just dropping off some papers for me to grade and picking up my lesson plans for the week. He and one of his other PhD students are covering my classes until I get back." She sighed. "He said he'd be here about 4:30, so I need to go upstairs and work on those lesson plans." She stood, then looked at Jack for a moment. "Thank you for taking care of me today, Jack. And thank you for not hating me."

He walked over and, to his own surprise, gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. She looked surprised, but smiled. They stared at each other briefly, and then Jack said, "Well, I guess you'd better work on those lesson plans." She nodded, hesitated a moment more, and then turned and headed out.