Don't ask me where this one came from because I don't know, but it really was great fun to write… :)
When Brad Hammond announced a five-minute coffee break, Tony Almeida was the first to jump up. Not waiting for anyone, not asking if they wanted anything, he darted out of the Division conference room and was only able to breathe once he had made it through the doors.
God, he hated these long-winded meetings that cost every effort inside him not to scream out in frustration, let alone actually pay attention to what anyone was saying. He could easily think of at least fifty much more entertaining ways to spend a Monday morning.
He hurried over to the coffee stand, wanting to avoid having to stand in line. He grabbed a mug and filled it, closing his eyes at the rich smell of the aroma as it filled the air. He brought it to his lips and took a large gulp.
"Don't you want any milk with that?"
He started violently and turned around towards the sound of the warm, honeyed female voice. His eyes landed on a gorgeous curly-haired brunette he'd never seen before, who he guessed was in her late twenties. She had creamy pale skin that made his fingers tingle, and dark, slanted eyes that literally caused his breath to catch in his throat. She was holding a carton of milk in her hand, holding it out to him, and – unless he was very much mistaken – blushed when nothing came out of his mouth and all he could do was stare at her.
He forced himself to take his eyes off her, scratching the side of his face. "No uh… Thanks. I take it black."
She dropped her hand, and he couldn't help but notice how small and delicate and feminine it was. "Oh." She set the carton down on the table; it was grabbed by another hand mere seconds later as other people were slowly showing up for coffee.
She studied him carefully before he saw something not unlike mischief sparkle in her dark eyes. This stranger had a way of making him infinitely aware of every inch of his body; she instinctively made every virile part in him come alive. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before.
"Y'know, you're seriously making me rethink my career choice."
He nearly choked on another sip of coffee. "I'm sorry?"
She smiled, and he couldn't help thinking it was the most beautiful smile he'd seen in a long time. "Well… I'm the one they send to get milk from the break room. I started here a month ago, so I figure hey… everyone pays their dues, right?"
He nodded, feeling a surprising pang of sympathy for her. During his first two months at CTU he'd fetched so many cups of coffee for his bosses that he'd even had an aversion to the stuff for a while.
"But you…" she continued, "You're actually in a meeting with the directors and you look worse than I feel."
He felt a low chuckle escape him – so much for trying to hide his disgust. He didn't tell her that the only reason he was here was because Jack Bauer had managed to find some excuse for not attending and had sent him instead. He didn't tell her he was neither a director nor a second-in-command.
"The meetings are the worst part," he told her, "The rest isn't so bad. And uh… don't worry," he felt compelled to add, "Things should change for you soon enough…"
This was true. Either she didn't know what she was doing and they would let her go probably within the month, or she had potential in which case they would start exploiting that in the near future. He didn't know why, didn't have the faintest idea what made him think so, but he figured it was probably the latter. She looked like knew things, she looked competent and intelligent and confidant.
He must have been staring again because once again her cheeks turned pink, and she lowed her eyes slightly and brushed a stray curl behind her ear. He wished he could do it for her; he ached to know what that perfect-looking skin felt like under his fingertips. He'd never had to fight an urge so hard in his life.
"Thanks… I guess." She smiled again and he smiled back, mesmerized.
They were interrupted by Alberta Green.
"Michelle," she said crisply, addressing his new friend, "Someone spilled a little over here. Would you mind getting a cloth or something?"
The brunette nodded respectfully. "Of course."
She turned to leave, rolling her eyes subtly in his direction as she passed him. He found himself smiling as she walked away, watching her every move and noticing a slight sway to her hips. She was most definitely one of the sexiest women he'd ever seen.
"She's pretty, isn't she?"
He was surprised to hear his girlfriend's voice, but even more surprised at the gentle taunt he heard in her words.
Since when did Nina get jealous? Nina, who was always telling him off for being possessive and territorial, and that he should get over his issues with Jack and let the whole thing be.
But when he looked over his shoulder at her she looked calm and relaxed, and he told himself he must have imagined it.
"Yeah," he said, looking ahead of him again to see the girl disappear around the corner. He couldn't help but notice the looks she got – she was the type of woman who brightened a room just by entering it. His girlfriend had that affect on men as well, but not to that extent.
"Who is she?" he wanted to know, turning so he could focus his attention on Nina.
"Um… Something Dessler. I can't remember her first name."
"Michelle…" he offered, trying it out on his own lips.
"Right. She's good from what I've heard. She'll probably be management in just a few years."
For some reason he was glad to hear that. He had a feeling Michelle would be happy if she knew people had confidence in her abilities.
"Anyway uh…" He nudged Nina back towards the conference room. "We should get back, huh?"
She raised an eyebrow at him, obviously wondering why he was so keen on getting back in time when she'd watched him practically run from the room a few minutes before.
He rolled his eyes and fought the urge to snap at her. He caught her fawning over Jack all the time; she couldn't possibly be annoyed with him for simply noticing another woman.
But she didn't say anything, so he held his tongue as they both made their way back to the conference room.
Three years later…
Michelle Dessler lay next to him, naked, tangled in hotel bed-sheets and his arms. She was still asleep.
The rays of sunshine peeking through the curtains fell on her face and gave it an almost surreal glow, making him doubt, if just for a second, if this was real. If she was really lying here with him in a naked embrace while he contemplated the rest of their lives together.
She married him yesterday. She was his wife now. Not just his lover, his best friend, his confidant. Now she was also his wife. She belonged to him.
It was still hard to fathom, despite the blissful happiness that washed through him at the mere thought. He still found it hard to believe that he had ever gotten so lucky. Not just anyone ended up with a woman like that. He figured he must have done something right after all.
She changed him in a way he never would have thought possible. Everything he knew about life and love was erased and rewritten when she got mixed up in it.
He'd fallen in love before, sure. He'd dated women, liked them, found them attractive; and after a considerable amount of time let himself fall in love with one or two of them.
She was different. He'd fallen in love with her all on his own, without having any say it the matter – his mind and his brain and his willpower hadn't had any control over it whatsoever. It was his heart, and his gut. He'd been half in love with her even before he'd admitted it to himself.
He'd always been a firm believer in monogamy. He had never cheated on a girl in his life because he didn't want a relationship with that kind of hurt hanging between him and his partner. But God knows, there had been temptations – a lot of them, especially in college. He'd just never given in to them out of principle and pure conviction of his own beliefs.
With her, there were no temptations. Gorgeous women didn't have the same effect on him as they did before her; all he could think about when he studied them was that they couldn't possibly be as perfect as she was. Not as naturally beautiful, not as witty, not as intelligent. Not as passionate. Not as instinctive to everything that made him who he was.
She fulfilled him in every way possible – romantically, emotionally, sexually and intellectually. He couldn't imagine ever wanting anyone else.
He tugged the sheets more tightly around their tangled bodies as his hand slowly traveled up and down her bare back, taking his time to brush it across every inch of her flawless skin. He slid it up to her smooth shoulders, and she sighed and moved closer to him when his fingers slipped into her hair. The curls tickled his nose and he smiled a little when his eyes landed on her soft, sleeping features. He felt that inexplicable rush in his heart, that now familiar sensation where it became abundantly clear to him just how far he would go for her if it ever came down to it. It scared him sometimes to think of how easily he could block out the rest of the world if it ever stood in the way of her wellbeing. And he was perfectly aware of the fact that if someone was looking for a way to hurt him, they wouldn't have to look very far.
Sometimes being with her felt like carrying his heart in front of his body instead of inside it, allowing everyone who wanted to throw punches at it. Even the slightest look of pain in her eyes could cause an ache deep down in his gut that he had never known before her. It was giving up all control over what he felt. It was having everyone know where he was weak.
He watched her face for another moment, admiring the deep contrast between her pale skin and the long, dark eyelashes resting against her cheekbones. Her lips were full and pink, and before he knew what he was doing he was brushing his own against them. Unable to stop there, he had kissed her cheek, her nose, her eyelids, her forehead, and her other cheek before she opened her eyes.
She smiled at him and leaned in closer, slowly running her own hand across his chest.
"Hi," she whispered sleepily as her mouth brushed against his neck.
In reply he kissed her hotly, rendering them both breathless. The sleepiness in her laughter made it extra sweet, and he found himself smiling at the sound of it.
"How'd you sleep?" he asked pointlessly, knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it anyway.
"Like a baby," she told him, and he grinned.
They lay there in comfortable silence for a few minutes. His hand resumed its trail along her back and neck and shoulders, and although he could feel the first stabs of hunger starting to attack his stomach, he couldn't bare the thought of leaving the intimacy of the embrace for something as banal as food.
"Tony?" she murmured after a while.
"Mmm?" He nuzzled a kiss in her hair.
"Tell me again."
He laughed, remembering her confession last night that hearing him say those words during the ceremony had undone her in the best possible way. Their lovemaking had been filled with the phrase, and it had turned the both of them on with an intensity that had hung in the air long after they were both spent.
"I do."
Her lips were on his the second the words were out, a warm tongue seeking its entrance into his mouth. He felt her fingers crawl into his hair and he stroked her cheek with his thumb as their foreheads rested together. Her response was barely more than a whisper.
"I do, too."