Title: Something Real

Author: Jeanine (jeanine@iol.ie)

Rating: PG

Pairing: Tony/Michelle

Spoilers: Specifically, season two, 2-3am.

Feedback: Makes my day

Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.

Archive: At my site The Band Gazebo (helsinkibaby.ahkay.net) Anywhere else please ask first.

Summary: Michelle loses control.

Author's Note: Written for the LiveJournal Writer's Choice "Loss" challenge.

***

She turns away from the paramedics treating Carrie, from the curious gaze of the rest of the CTU personnel, stumbling almost blindly towards a corridor that's sure to be deserted. She needs to be alone right now, doesn't want to hear people asking what happened, doesn't want to have to hear people telling them about her brother attacking Carrie, doesn't want to be reminded of him screaming her name as security dragged him away. Doesn't want to see Carrie's mocking, sure to be triumphant, stare, doesn't want to see Tony, to have to explain the whole sorry tale to him.

She knows that she's an inch away from losing control, just like she knows she can't do it now, not today, not with everything that's going on around here.

But then she hears the telltale noise of crutches and Tony's voice, and he's standing in front of her, asking her where she's going. She makes something up, the first place she thinks of, something about IT and the CPB software, and with the most concerned of expressions, he points out that she's going in the wrong direction for that. Knowing that she's caught out, she gives him honesty, telling him that she just needed a minute, hoping against hope that he'll understand.

It seems like he does, because he takes a step towards her, and she thinks for a moment that he's going to hug her, and much as she might have wanted to do that a thousand times in the past six months, she's not so sure that she could handle it now. She's holding onto her control by the slimmest of fraying threads right now, and she thinks that if he touches her, she'll lose it completely.

He doesn't hug her though, but he does tell her that Carrie's going to be fine, and in response to her fearful question, adds that he doesn't think she'll press charges against Danny. That's when she gives him more honesty, telling him that it's all her fault. She should never have introduced Carrie and Danny, should have done more to help him, should have warned him about the bomb, should have seen it coming. He's her brother and she helped ruin his life, and no matter how much Tony tries to absolve her of blame, she can't make herself believe it.

She's standing in a dark corridor with him closer to her than he's ever been, talking to her in whispers, and she's sharing her innermost thoughts, her innermost fears with him. The thing with Danny is just the straw that broke the camel's back, and suddenly the stresses of the day catch up with her. To hell with being a strong woman, to hell with being a professional. This place blew up around her only a few hours ago, Mason is dead along with so many other people, and now she's trying to analyse this Cyprus recording, and she's getting nowhere fast. She doesn't know if she can do this, but knows that she has to try, because of what's at stake. She knows what can happen if she's right, just like she knows what can happen if she's wrong, and she doesn't know which outcome scares her more.

It shouldn't be like this she wants to scream. This morning was an ordinary morning where she got up and came to work to do her job. She never wanted any of this to happen, never expected her life to fall apart like this.

She never expected to fall apart like this either.

But she is falling apart, right in front of Tony, and wonder of wonders, he's catching her, holding her close, telling her that everything's going to be fine. She wants to believe him, more than anything, but she can't find the words to tell him that, so she just holds onto him tightly. He's strong, and he's solid, and he's Tony, and he's exactly what she needs right now.

She misses him immediately when he pulls away, but he doesn't let her go, and their faces are so close that she can feel his breath on her lips. His hands are on her face and she's looking in his eyes and in a split second, she makes her decision, bringing her lips to his, kissing him frantically, hungrily.

There are a thousand good reasons why they shouldn't do this, and she can recite them all, but she doesn't care. She's falling apart, the world is falling apart all around her, and she just wants something real, something that she can hold on to. And if that's him, so be it.

He breaks the kiss, but his hands are still on her face, and she whispers apologies for her loss of control. That's when he does something that surprises the hell out of her.

He kisses her again, just as hungrily, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she realises that he might want to hold on to something real too.

It's only a moment, then Carrie's voice interrupts them, brings them back to reality, sends him to the phone, to a conversation with Chapelle, sends her back to her desk. But that moment, that momentary loss of control is enough to get her through the rest of the day.

And later, when she's talking to him on the phone and catches his eye through the window of his office, she knows that he thinks the same.