Previously on Alias: I finished the first recap.

British Embassy, Vienna. 18 Months Ago. Jack is up on a balcony, looking devastatingly handsome in a lovely old tux. He's watching the entrance. In walks…LENA FUCKING OLIN. She's wearing a stunning purple gown and looks about twenty years younger than her actual age. Jack watches her with not a little interest. You would too if you were looking at Lena Fucking Olin. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm as straight a chick as they come, but Lena Olin? Burns my retinas, she's so hot. Good Lord. Ahem. So, Irina enters and some dude hands her an envelope, which she opens. She looks off thoughtfully and we get our first glimpse of the only thing that can or will detract from her loveliness: the bizarre purple flower dangling out of the middle of the back of her head. I have no idea what it's doing there or why it's just…hanging there, but I hope to have a reason by, say, midway through Season Five?

Minutes later, we're down in the pool area. Irina slinks along and Jack is sitting there, waiting for her, with chilled champagne. She says she was pleased to get his note because this party is looking to be insufferable. Jack hands her a glass and says that he would prefer not to waste what little time they have together on idle banter. She giggles sexily at him and sips. "What do you suggest?" she asks. "A dance?" he says. She likes this idea and takes his hand and turns…revealing the damned purple orchid just HANGING onto the back of her head for dear life. Why isn't it behind her ear? Why isn't it holding some of her hair back? WHAT PURPOSE IS IT SERVING? Seriously. Anything that can distract me from watching Lena Olin is dangerous indeed.

Even though there's no music playing, Irina and Jack move easily into each other's arms and start slow-dancing. I'm not going to go into too many details, primarily because if I keep on blathering about how awesome Lena Olin is and how glad I am to have her back, y'all are going to be well and sick of me by, uh, page two of this damn thing. I'll just say that Irina and Jack dance very, very well together. There's a laidback sexiness to both of them that I honestly don't know how they achieve. Jack says, "You…broke my heart, Irina." "That was another lifetime," she says breathily. "I won't do it again." "Good to know," says Jack, smiling. Uh-oh. Jack's smiling. This can't be good. Irina kisses him and, after a hesitation, Jack returns the kiss. They start making out but good. Need I say how blisteringly hot it is? I probably needn't. Suffice it to say that Lena Olin could probably make kissing a freshwater trout seem hot.

The kissing is over just as soon as it began, however, because Irina pulls back suddenly and declares that she'd better get back to the party. Jack grabs her. "Tell me, Irina," he snaps, "how did it feel, giving the order? Was it difficult or…were you able to remain cold? Indifferent? Were you amused?" Irina just looks at him, bemused. "Jack, this is cryptic," she drawls. "Even for you." "Well, let me be clear," he says. "How did it feel to pay a man to kill your own daughter?" Irina is suddenly deadly serious. "You weren't supposed to find out." Jack smiles wryly. "You didn't feel a thing, did you? How is that possible? Were Sydney and I nothing to you? Merely strategic alliances to be disposed of once we'd outlived our usefulness? After all we've been through, Irina, I deserve an explanation. Why?" Irina doesn't answer. "I NEED A REASON." "Because it had to be done," she finally says. That's a good enough reason for Jack. He whips out his gun and points it directly at her forehead. "Jack…" she says cautiously. "Damn you," says Jack, pulling the trigger. Irina falls back into the pool, an expression of pure and utter joy upon her face as the bubbles plink out of the GAPING HOLE IN HER HEAD.

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