DISCLAIMER: I don't own 24 or any of the characters
Leaning comfortably backwards in his chair, twirling a pen in his fingers, Tony failed to notice Jack push open his office door and head downstairs. It was a scene he rarely missed, but at that moment his mind was miles away, wondering where to take his young niece the following day. The beach was out of the question he decided reluctantly, as it was cold and the latest weather forecast indicated heavy rain. The zoo was out too for the same reason, so that left… Well, it didn't really leave him with terribly many alternatives. Either he would take her to the toy store, or he would be forced to play dolls with her. Tony grinned in amusement and opted for the trip to the toy store.
'Tony, you finished already?' Jack inquired, his close proximity making Tony jump.
'Almost,' he answered guiltily, aware the mundane tasks handed to him that day required completion.
'Can I see you upstairs in my office for a minute?' Jack asked; his tone indicating the question was one only out of politeness.
Why don't you say what you mean, Jack? Tony thought as he stood up to follow his boss upstairs. Get into my office right away, Tony! What do you imagine you're doing, wasting time? Don't imagine you're leaving before the file is complete! Tony forced a silent sigh down and climbed the remaining few stairs, noting Jack had reached the office ahead of him and left the door open, his face grave. Oh boy, he looks a little mad. How late were you this morning, Almeida? Only ten minutes, that's not too bad really, it couldn't be that. He hoped so anyway, aware he had been a little late every day that week. Or did I fail to complete something, or send it to the wrong file? No, I double checked everything. Oh God, don't tell me he discovered the files on Maria's latest boyfriend? Please God not that, Tony prayed, pausing in his tracks. His youngest sister appeared interested in a different boy at college every week and he had been coerced into providing a detailed background check on each of them. Of course he had protested weakly each time she begged him for the information, but he had complied, mainly to make certain the guy was suitable for his sister, of course. If Jack ever discovered it, he was busted, fired too, almost certainly.
'Tony?' Jack inquired, returning to his door to stare at him in surprise. 'Are you ok?'
'Yeah,' Tony replied, forcing himself up the stairs. Jack stepped back and he entered the office, instinctively gazing across the bullpen. Nina appeared busy working on her computer, and Jamie crossed the floor leisurely, carrying a mug. It was coffee time; he normally joined her around now, carrying his precious Cubs mug into the break room. He refused to leave it there after several employees had 'borrowed' it.
'Not a bad view,' Jack said, following his gaze. 'Sit down, Tony.'
Tony swallowed and pulled out the chair opposite his desk, racking his brains for anything else that might merit a stern warning. He pulled an impassive mask onto his face, much as he had worn in the marines during inspection by some visiting officers.
'Tony, I just got off the phone with Ryan Chappelle over at Division,' Jack began, tapping a finger on his desk. 'Thing is, he wants to see us both at 6:00 tonight.'
Tony's heart skipped a beat and he was certain his face turned red. It was his one weakness eight years in the marines had failed to remove, his emotions, and right at the moment they threatened to choke him. 'Mr. Chappelle wants to see me?' he echoed, desperately hoping he hadn't heard right.
To his dismay Jack nodded. 'That's right. Especially you, from what I understood.' His eyes raked the younger man, whose discomfort was obvious. 'You have any idea what it's about?'
Tony shook his head, forcing himself from squirming on his chair. Oh God, please don't let Mr. Chappelle have discovered your hacking into the police department last week, to delete a couple of speeding tickets. He'll be real pissed off, Almeida; he won't understand that Papa was terribly late for a client meeting because he was helping you collect that new lounge suite. He gazed at the wall past Jack's head, unable to formulate a single sentence.
Jack stared at him in growing concern. 'Are you sure you're ok, Tony?' he pressed. 'You don't look well.'
Tony shook his head, muttering something about a terrible headache, and indeed it wasn't altogether a fabrication, he already felt the beginnings of one pounding in his forehead. Jack looked at him sympathetically.
'Why don't you get something from Medical?' he suggested. 'You've got nearly two hours before Chappelle wants to see us.' Tony rose gratefully. 'Tony.' He turned, swallowing. 'That case you're researching is hardly urgent. Take an hour off; it'll help your headache. Just sit down for a bit.'
'Thanks Jack,' Tony told him, and left in a hurry, keeping his pace even at an effort. He moved over to the break room and poured himself a strong coffee in his mug, sipping it slowly. The bitter taste served to calm him a little. After all, if Chappelle wanted to bust him for something he wouldn't have invited Jack for the interview. Once his mug was empty Tony poured himself a second cup, carrying it carefully over to medical.
He pushed open the glass door one handed and laid his mug on the desk, giving his burning fingers a break. 'Hi Tony,' the doctor told him. 'Take a seat. What can I do for you today?'
'I'm fine,' Tony began, surprised to see a look of resignation cross the doctor's face. 'I just need something for a headache.' His head pounded more with each passing moment, the idea of a quiet rest proved welcome.
'Sure,' replied the doctor, pointing to the mug. 'You got a headache yet you just made yourself coffee?' He frowned mildly, picked up the mug and poured the contents down the sink. 'You certainly shouldn't drink this. Let me get you something.' He rose to fetch a couple of tablets while Tony stared at his mug in dismay, unable to watch it perched on the edge of the sink. He moved to retrieve it, picking it up just as the doctor returned from the storeroom.
The middle aged doctor stared at him in the greatest astonishment. 'It's my own,' Tony said, aware an explanation was necessary.
'Hm,' was the doctor's only comment, as he handed two white tablets over the desk. 'Take those and have them with, let me see,' he got up and poured water into a paper cup. Feeling it was poor substitute for his coffee but not daring to object, Tony drank it all. 'Why don't you rest for a few minutes, until that works?' the doctor suggested and Tony nodded, following him gratefully into the next room, a dark one with drawn blinds. He closed the door and sank into a comfortable armchair, shutting his eyes.
Alone in the darkness his worries returned compounded by the headache. What could Chappelle possibly want him for? He had met the man a mere handful of times apart from his interview and the swearing of his oath, and he strongly disliked him. A summons to Division boded ill for the future, he was certain of it.
Tony groaned inwardly, remembering his invitation to his parents' house that evening. It was Friday and they would all be more cheerful and relaxed than usual – it was a time he truly enjoyed spending with them. Most of the time some of his brothers or sisters would be there as well and they would hold a real 'family' dinner, chatting and teasing each other till the early hours, when his eyes would start to close as he helped clear the table, and he would be invited yet again to spend the night there. He always accepted, hating returning to his silent apartment. Of course if he had someone waiting for him it would be totally different, but that was hardly likely considering the extremely long hours he put in at work. He had to accept it; he had little to offer as far as women were concerned. Nina never spared him a second glance, and really, she had no reason to do so.
The thought of the customary dinner depressed him. After whatever it was Chappelle planned to lecture him about, he had a strong feeling he would be unable to face it. Once the medicine numbed his headache he would call his parents and tell them he was forced to remain at work and would be unable to join them.
Half an hour later he rose and assured the doctor he was fine, heading back to his desk. He laid his mug down carefully and dialed his parents' number, groaning to himself to find it engaged.
'Hi Tony, you busy?' Jamie inquired, giving him a seductive smile.
'Not really,' he replied, shaking his head. 'I was just going to get a coffee!'
'So was I,' she told him amused, and followed him into the rec. room where he poured coffees for both of them. 'What are you doing tonight, Tony?' she inquired, pulling out a chair with a sigh. 'Fridays do tend to drag on, don't they?' she sighed, swallowing her first mouthful.
Tony nodded in complete agreement. 'Yeah, especially if there's nothing urgent. Tonight I got to see Ryan Chappelle over at Division for something.' He sipped his own coffee, reveling in the bitter taste.
Jamie stared at him interested. 'You know what he wants you for?'
Tony sighed and shook his head. 'No idea.' He swallowed more coffee, burning his tongue.
Jamie grinned at him. 'You done anything to get busted for Tony? Apart from arriving late every morning.'
'Hey, it's only a coupla minutes,' he protested, rubbing his face. So she had noticed. He wondered how many others had noticed too, resolving to turn his alarm on even earlier next week and arrive on time. 'I don't know what he wants,' he admitted. 'You heard anything?'
'Only a few rumors of a mission being planned,' she replied, laying her empty cup on the table. 'Maybe Chappelle wants you on it.' She looked intrigued at the thought.
Tony shook his head. 'No way. I'm not a field agent, Jamie, I had ENOUGH of that in the Marines, trust me! And there's no reason he could want me, he's got plenty of field agents who are trained for this kinda thing.'
'You're cleared for the field,' she reminded him. 'If you think about it, Tony, there's no real reason he can't send you on a mission if he chooses to do so.'
'Like I said, he's got dozens of agents to choose from,' Tony replied, pouring himself a third coffee. He drank it in silence, mulling over her words. Soon she returned to her work and he followed her, carrying the coffee back to his desk. He dialed his parents again, annoyed to find the line remained engaged. 'If it's Maria chatting about her latest boyfriend, I'll never get through,' he sighed, placing the phone down a little harder than necessary. In desperation he tried his father's cell, but as usual found he had forgotten to charge it. His mother's cell rang for a while before asking him to leave a message and he hung up frustrated, aware she would be so occupied with cooking and playing with little Sandy she would never hear her phone, let alone remember to check any messages. He resolved to try again later, viewing his chances of success as slim.
Deciding it was best to put all thoughts of the upcoming visit to Division aside, he completed his work, carrying the whole file over to Jack. 'I'm done now,' he told him, hoping Jack wouldn't get him started on anything else this late.
'Thanks, Tony. It's almost time to leave, anyway. Are you returning here, or do you have somewhere to go in a hurry?'
'I'll be real late for a dinner invitation,' Tony admitted reluctantly, aware of the office gossip about his weekends.
Jack nodded. 'Ok, take your car and you can leave the moment Mr. Chappelle has finished,' he said. 'Just park anywhere you find an empty bay, most people will be heading home by now.'
'Aha' he agreed and returned to his desk, placing a few incomplete forms into his drawer.
'Did you manage to complete the Fallon file, Tony?' Nina inquired, arriving unnoticed. Tony chided himself for having the second person creep up on him that afternoon and nodded.
'Yeah, I handed it in to Jack.'
'So you're heading to Division with Jack?' Nina questioned. 'Wonder what that's about,' she asked, a curious look on her face.
'I don't', he replied wryly. 'Chances are I'll get chewed out for something I forgot to do last week.' He placed his mug carefully onto his top shelf, aware of her eyes on him.
'Don't worry about that. When Ryan's pissed off, he calls Jack and tells him who screwed up, you can be sure of that, and then Jack calls that person upstairs. No, he wants you for something entirely different. Mysteries, mysteries,' she teased, returning to her desk.
Tony's eyes followed her, noting her graceful body in her tight blouse and skirt, highlighting her long straight legs and upwards to her…His eyes caught a movement and he turned, catching Jack admiring her from his office window. That's the second time he's been staring at her with that dreamy look, he noted, picking up his briefcase. That's odd, he's definitely married. Could he possibly be interested in a little office romance? Contemplating the question, he left CTU, threw his briefcase into his car and removed his sweater. He turned carefully, laying it on the back seat beside his guitar, which he had packed in the morning ready to take to the dinner.
It took over half an hour in peak hour traffic to reach the imposing building. Tony had no trouble finding a free bay as over half of them were empty, agents heading out all over the car park. He sighed enviously and locked his car, pulling his sweater back on in the cold wind. Relax, Almeida, it won't be too bad, he ordered himself sternly and pushed the large glass door open, stopping beside a counter.
'I'm Tony Almeida, CTU,' he said, pulling out his card to show the security guard. 'I'm here to see Mr. Chappelle.'
The guard nodded and picked up his phone, confirming the appointment. 'He's got you down for 6:00 pm, Mr. Almeida,' he said. 'You're to wait in the rec. room. Step through the metal detector.'
Tony laid his keys on the desk, having been caught there on his previous visit and passed unhindered though the stringent security. He picked up his briefcase and glanced around, taking a step towards the rec. room when he heard the guard calling his name. 'Mr. Almeida.'
Tony turned, watching the man hurrying after him with his keys. 'Thanks,' he said, chiding himself for his preoccupation. This was unusual for him; he never forgot to collect his things before. The interview with Chappelle obviously rattled him more than he cared to admit. He was relieved to find the rec. room deserted and settled on a sofa, rubbing his face. You'll be fine Almeida, just agree with the guy and apologize for whatever it is, listen to his lecture, promise to do better in the future and then get outa here. To calm his nerves he rose restlessly, pacing the room until his eyes fell on Division's coffee machine. Unable to resist the inviting smell, he fetched a plain mug and poured himself yet another coffee, noting it tasted identical to the ones he drank at CTU.
He was halfway through his second mug when the door opened and Jack entered, laying his briefcase on a chair. 'Is that drinkable?' he inquired, fighting to keep his face even.
'Yeah,' Tony replied, unaware the majority of the staff at CTU laid bets on how much coffee he would consume daily. His eyes followed his boss's movements across the room and over to the coffee machine.
'So how many have you had while you were here?' Jack inquired in an emotionless tone, adding sugar to his cup.
'Only two,' Tony answered, puzzled. 'The medicine made me a little drowsy; I thought it would be best to wake up.' He dared not continue his thoughts aloud, and Ryan Chappelle's voice tends to put me to sleep at the best of times.
Apparently the addition was unnecessary. Jack nodded understandingly. 'Yeah, good idea.' He carried his cup to the table and drank his coffee in silence, both men racking their brains for small talk. Fortunately the door opened again and a young agent entered. 'Mr. Bauer, Mr. Chappelle will see you and Mr. Almeida now,' she said, and they got up to follow her.
Tony resisted the urge to rub his face as they crossed the main floor of Division and climbed an imposing staircase, forcing himself to stop memories of his previous visit, just after he was employed, when he faced the customary polygraph. Jack had stood by him then, saving him from answering questions about an unauthorized rescue he undertook while he was in the Marines. His fists clenched as he remember a third man in the room watching his interrogation, an overweight man with the face of a bulldog who insisted on questioning him as to whether he would betray a family member should he discover them in a compromising situation. He had longed to leap out of the chair and strangle the man personally. What was his name? he wondered as he followed Jack. Certainly something to do with food - lunch or dinner. Lunch, he decided, unable to know how he knew that for certain. Well, whatever it is, I sure hope he's not here now, Tony thought as he reached the top of the stairs and followed Jack along the landing.
Jack knocked on the door and they both heard Chappelle's nasally voice bid them enter. He pushed the door open and walked inside, Tony following on his heels. He found himself in a small conference room with wide windows that offered a clear view of the majority of the bullpen. Ryan Chappelle waved towards the seats nearest the door and he settled on a black leather chair beside Jack.
'Good afternoon Ryan,' Jack said, and Tony echoed him, with the exception of using the bureaucrat's title.
'Good evening, Jack, Tony,' Chappelle began. 'Bear with me a minute. Brad Hammond's joining us, and he's running a little late.'
Tony's heart sank at the mention of the name. Hammond, that was it! He was unable to fathom his instant dislike of the man, but after eight years of active duty he had learned to trust his instincts and they were screaming a warning at him as he sat there. Keep silent, Almeida! Listen to what they got to say and pretend you're one of them, a grey suited bureaucrat with no family ties, and you'll be fine!