Title: The Great Surprise
Fandom: 24
Characters: Michelle Dessler/Tony Almeida
Word Count: 3,340
Rating: R – For Innuendo
Summary: It's Tony's birthday, now where's his present?
Author's Notes: This was written for spacefiend's birthday. I really had just one image in my head, and it sparked this entire fic. No spoilers past Day 2.
The note said for him to be there at 7:30 and to go ahead and let himself into her place, but it was past 8 already and she wasn't there. He knew she would get back eventually – it was her apartment after all – he was just impatient to see what the big surprise she'd been gloating about for the last few weeks was. He got the impression that it was something big from the way Michelle had been guarding the truth, but even then he wasn't sure. She loved to fake him out by playing coy about even small things. Even so, he was sure he'd like it. How could he not when it was from Michelle?
Finally Michelle came breezing through the door, arms full and smile bright.
"Sorry I'm late; Jason called me back in to locate a file."
She dropped her arm load in the chair across from him and slid into his lap, framing his face with her palms. She smiled quickly before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his forehead. His eyes closed at the soft touch of her lips, feeling grounded for the first time all day.
After saying goodbye to her at his front door that morning, he'd gone to Division for a day of mind-numbing meetings with the other CTU directors under Regional Director Ryan Chappelle's command. Michelle had gone on to CTU, promising to hold down the fort with Jack. All day long he'd missed being where he was the boss, where he was relaxed, and most importantly, where she was. The email she'd sent with his instructions for the evening was professional, yet cryptic, but it said that she felt much the same as he did.
He felt Michelle's lips leave his face and reluctantly opened his eyes. She was smiling down at him, waiting until she had his full attention before dipping her head and fusing their mouths together. His hand slipped to the back of her head, holding onto her firmly as her tongue laved his lower lip and slipped into his mouth, sliding against his own. He felt the groan building in his throat when she shifted, swinging her leg across his lap, hitching her skirt up and straddling him firmly.
Capturing her lip between his teeth, he tugged lightly, taking pleasure in her mewl. She shifted again, this time curling her arms around his neck, locking them into their clench even tighter. He groaned again when her hips began rocking slowly against his.
"Michelle-"
She stilled, smiling against his lips, waiting for him to regain some control before she slid off his lap and settled beside him. She loved to do that, too, get him worked up and then save the rest for later. Only on days like this, where he hadn't seen her, hadn't even been able to share a completely useless phone call with her, her little game was like torture.
"You're killing me here, Michelle."
She shook her head, kissing his neck gently and resting her cheek on his shoulder. Silently she snaked an arm around his waist and squeezed. "You'll be fine. It'll be worth it, I promise."
Grumbling good-naturedly about how it better be (it always was), he gathered her closer, resting one of his arms across her shoulders and the other on the leg she'd tossed over his. Michelle hummed quietly, squirming a little until she found the most comfortable position against his body. He couldn't help but chuckle at the way she moved.
"So what about this surprise? Huh?"
Michelle shook her head. "Later."
"It is my birthday, Michelle. Shouldn't I get to choose when I get my present?"
"Only if you're ten years old."
"Can I be ten years old for a minute?"
She giggled, shaking her head again. "After dinner," she promised quietly.
"Speaking of, what is for dinner? No offense, sweetheart, but I don't really want to spend my birthday night in the emergency room because we came down with food poisoning again."
Michelle made an annoyed sound and poked him hard in the belly.
"Ow! I was just kidding with you, Michelle," he muttered, rubbing the place where her finger connected. Michelle sat up, poking him in the chest this time – lighter, thankfully – before getting to her feet.
"For your information, Mr. Lagasse, dinner's on its way. Danny should be here soon."
He had to fight the urge to grunt; just who he didn't want to see on his birthday. He liked Michelle's brother, he did, just not enough to want to owe him for a dinner.
"Don't give me that look, Tony. He's doing it to be nice, as a thank you."
Before he could argue that point, Danny's trademark heavy knock sounded at the door. Michelle moved behind the couch, stopping to drop a gentle kiss on his forehead before answering the door and admitting her guest. Danny called a quick, perfunctory hello to him before passing the large, foil covered platter over to his sister and hanging a bag on her outstretched index finger.
"Thanks, Danny."
"No problem, Michelle. I gotta go; Marie's letting me have the kids for the weekend, so I gotta get over to the church and pick them up."
Tony nodded to Danny, who threw a rushed wave his way before leaving the apartment. Michelle smiled quickly, throwing him a pleased, triumphant look as she carried the food past him.
"See? That was painless. Come on, let's eat."
Dutifully, he followed her into her little-used kitchen and watched her set Danny's gifts down. He sniffed the air experimentally, wondering what it was she'd conned her brother into cooking and driving across town to bring. When she removed a series of condiments from the bag in her hand, his brow furrowed. Ketchup? Relish? Chili?
"Your brother made hotdogs?"
Michelle nodded, lifting the foil off the platter. "I thought you'd like them more than a big, stuffy meal. Besides, you wanted a birthday party. Every party needs a theme."
Intrigued, he huddled up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and kissing her ear gently.
"Is this the part where I guess what it's all about?"
"If you wanna."
"Theme, you say?"
"Mm hmm. Your first clue is jumbo hotdogs."
Pressing his hips against her, he grinned, whispering teasingly into her hair, "I'm flattered, sweetheart."
"Tony!"
After abandoning the empty plastic bag to a spot on the table, Michelle turned in his arms, squeezing his cheeks between her hands and kissing him quickly.
"Your party theme does not involve your penis. That's your only hint."
"Hmm."
Smirking, she kissed him again. "I need to get plates."
Keeping one arm firmly around her waist, he deftly grabbed a hotdog, conveniently already in the bun, and propped it up against the tub of chili while he squirted ketchup and mustard on it one-handed. After spooning out some relish, he lifted the creation up and took a hearty bite.
"See, no plate necessary." He grinned, despite the wet patch the relish had left on the corner of his mouth.
Crinkling her nose at him, Michelle sighed, "Always gotta argue with me, don't you? Well, I'm not as good at preparing my food with one hand, I need a plate."
Reluctantly, he let her go, watching her hips sway during the short trip to her cabinets. She stood on her toes and glanced over her shoulder at him, answering his stare with a playful leer.
"I haven't even made mine yet, tell me you're not almost done."
"Not with this one. The second's always harder to eat than the first."
Shoving him out of the way, Michelle and her plate hankered down to make her first (and second) hotdog. Once she was satisfied with hers, she went to the fridge, reaching in and pulling out two beers without a word.
"Can you get my plate?" she asked, popping the tops off both of the bottles and grabbing some napkins. He did as she asked and followed her back into the living room, where she had already turned on the TV and was pressing play on the DVD remote.
"What're we watching?"
She grinned, pointing.
"Now you're just sucking up. How many times have you told me that you're tired of this movie?"
"It's your birthday; I can live with watching your favorite movie."
Smiling broadly, he plopped down on the couch beside her, handing Michelle her plate. Taking a long drag on his beer, he draped his arm behind her, mostly on the back of the couch, but partially across her shoulders.
"Yawn and stretch already, Tony? I haven't even turned out the lights," she teased, turning her head in an invitation for him to kiss her. He did, tasting the tang of mustard and beer on her lips. When he pulled away, he pressed extra little kisses to her eyelids.
"Thank you."
Opening her eyes slowly, Michelle cocked her head, a question already on her lips.
"For?"
"Tonight."
"It's really not much. I thought about taking you out but-"
"This is great, Michelle. How often do we get to lounge around at home, really?"
"True."
He kissed her forehead. "This really is great. Hotdogs, beer, Field of Dreams , you-"
"Glad I make the list," she ragged.
"It was reverse order," he excused with a good-humored smile, nuzzling a kiss to her cheek.
"Uh huh," she teased, pressing her lips to his ear. "You're talking during your movie."
Settling back against the couch cushions, he waited until she'd set aside her empty plate to draw her into his side, propping his feet up on the coffee table while she slid hers across his lap. He knew she'd probably fall asleep on him, but it didn't matter. He was just happy to have her there.
To his surprise, she made it through the entire movie without nodding off. When the credits started to roll, she sat up slightly, stretching one arm above her head before turning to him.
"There's cake if you want it."
He nodded slowly. "You're not putting candles on it, though."
She stood. "Of course not. That would start a towering infern-oh!" she squealed as he reached out, trying to grab her in punishment for that crack. Laughing, she took off into the kitchen, knowing that he was on her heels. He caught up with her, taking her arm and spinning her to face him all the while pressing her back against the countertop.
"You're funny."
"Well, if CTU doesn't work out, there's always stand-up," she quipped.
He let her go after extorting a few kisses in exchange for his forgiveness. Silently she pulled the cake out from its hiding spot, opening the lid and offering it to him, sans candles.
"Do I get to sing?"
"It'll cost you five more if you do."
Michelle pursed her lips and looked to the ceiling thoughtfully, appearing to ponder his terms.
"Deal."
After she completed her very Michelle rendition of the birthday song, he tugged her into his arms, delving his fingers in her hair and kissing her slowly, thoroughly. With her melting in his grip, it seemed like a pretty fair trade to him.
Once their cake and ice cream was consumed, Michelle finally decided it was time to give him his present. While he cleaned up the mess they'd made with the cake – Michelle started it, really, she didn't have to lick the chocolate off her fork while making that sound – she disappeared down the hall, to prepare, she said. Finally he heard her call for him, his cue to come see what she'd been up to for the last two-plus weeks.
He stepped into her bedroom and nearly had to sit down. If he'd had any doubts before, they were gone now: he was in love. Michelle had taken her hair down, and her curls were freely tumbling around her face and resting on the shoulders of her shirt. His eyes dropped quickly, realizing her legs were bare, all the way up to the edge of her shirt, her jersey. Michelle, his Michelle, was wearing a classic style, pinstriped Cubs jersey, and was somehow managing to look innocent and alluring at the same time. She'd honestly never looked hotter.
"Wow."
Silently, Michelle did a little twirl. "You like?"
Tongue-tied, he could only nod. His feet didn't work too well either, because the beautiful woman in front of him had to be the one to cover the distance that separated them and pull him in close.
Her hand slid into his hair, wrapping gently around the back of his head and tugging him down to kiss her. "Happy Birthday, Tony."
"Thanks, baby. You look great in that; best present ever."
She brushed his mouth with her own once more.
"It's for you. I'm just the model."
He touched the shoulder of the jersey, looking it over and realizing that not only was it classic, it was authentic.
"Michelle, this had to have cost a fortune."
She shrugged. "It was worth it."
He didn't know what to say to that. He knew Michelle rarely splurged on things for herself, so for her to do this for him meant a lot. Gathering her close, he tucked his nose into the crook of her neck, breathing in both the scent of the jersey – clean with just a hint of must from being in a drawer for too long – and the sweet smelling traces of Michelle's perfume. She really was too good for him, too good by a long shot.
"There's more," she murmured, interrupting his silent proposal with a gentle tug on the collar of his shirt.
"Sweetheart, I don't need more," he blurted honestly. Her arm tightened around his back, but she didn't let go.
"Too bad, there's more anyway."
He straightened up, brushing a curl out of her eyes and acquiescing to her silent request for him to let her spoil him.
"Alright, lay it on me."
She grinned cockily. "You have to find it."
"Find it, huh?"
"Yep. It's somewhere in this room."
"You're funny."
She shrugged. "Call it a party game."
He chuckled. "Okay. Somewhere in this room."
Walking toward her dresser, he let his eyes skim the surface, taking in anything that was out of the ordinary. He opened the top drawer slowly, waiting for her to argue that it was a scavenger hunt, not a panty raid. When no argument came, he checked her other drawers, including the one that was slowly becoming his. Coming up empty he moved to the closet, sticking his head inside before continuing into her bathroom.
"Getting colder," she taunted quietly, causing him to spin around. She'd settled on the bed and was propped up on her elbow, temple resting on her fist. "It's not in the bathroom," she added with a smirk.
Scratching his cheek, he nodded, taking a moment to watch her legs stretch and slide over one another. Because of the way she was leaning, his jersey had ridden high up on the curve of her thigh, making him want to say forget it to the hunt and crawl in beside her. Instead, he retraced his steps, crossing the room to survey the area by the window.
"How'm I doing?"
"Little warmer."
He moved nearer to the door and she shook her head. Coming closer to her, she nodded approvingly. Dropping to his knees, he surveyed under her bed.
"You're getting there."
She giggled mischievously and something clicked. He stood up, reaching for the covers and throwing them back, only to come up empty.
"Not quite."
His eyes narrowed and he dug under his pillow first and then stretched across her body to look under hers. Michelle laughed again, and he felt her hand slide up his side.
"You're overdressed, honey."
Glancing down at her, he raised an eyebrow.
"Changing the subject? Does that mean I'm close?"
She smiled innocently. "I'm just trying to help you get more comfortable. Why don't you go get dressed for bed?"
Narrowing his eyes, he backed away from her, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it in the direction of her hamper. Silently he loosened his belt and undid his pants, letting them drop to the ground before he stepped out of them, kicking them aside. He pretended not to notice Michelle looking him over appreciatively, even if it did make his ego swell.
Now comfortably clad in just his boxers, he climbed back onto the bed, returning to hovering above her. Instead of offering a hint for their game, Michelle just extended her free hand, tugging his head down onto her level. He settled on his elbows, covering her with his body while she did a thorough dental exam. He wasn't worried about his weight being too much for her, Michelle would complain if he was crushing her.
"So?" he murmured, kissing her chin and moving to the underside of her jaw. "How'm I doing now?"
"Oh, you're hot. You're very hot," she babbled absently, jerking when he changed directions and went for her earlobe.
"And the scavenger hunt, Michelle?"
"That, too."
Kissing her again, he rolled to one side, trailing his hand down her side and over the thigh he'd been previously admiring. Her skin was always so soft, even when she didn't have time to moisturize, or whatever it was she swore she had to do immediately after leaving the shower. She really was the perfect dichotomy; strong and capable, resilient, and yet still soft and vulnerable, willing to reach out when she needed him. The best combination of serious and sexy.
His hand slid further up under her jersey, brushing his thumb across the slash that supposedly constituted her underwear, causing a gasp to escape her.
"Burning up," she whispered raggedly, her breath warm against his wet lips. Nodding silently, intently, he slipped his hand around her front, lightly caressing her skin before sliding around to her back. When his hand encountered paper, she grinned languidly, sweeping her mouth against his.
"You win."
"What is it?"
"Look and see."
He did, taking the paper, whatever it was, out from under her clothes. Silently Michelle pushed him onto his back, and he let his head settle on the mound of pillows still on the bed. Before he could see what the rest of her gift was, she snuggled into his side, throwing one arm across his stomach and lacing her other hand with the one attached to the arm he'd put around her.
Resting the envelope against his chest, he dug under the flap with one hand, drawing out two tickets. He laughed; the theme made sense now. Hotdogs, Field of Dreams, beer, the fantastic jersey, and now these.
"Surprise. I figured you could take Jack, or someone."
She was crazy. She'd gone to all that trouble, spent God only knew how much on him, and she thought he was going to take Jack Bauer to see his beloved Cubs play the Dodgers? Yep, she was certifiable.
Drawing her forehead closer to his lips, he gave her a quick peck before putting the tickets aside and scooting so that they were face to face. She smiled, glad that he was happy, and he smiled back, glad that she was happy.
"Well, if she's not doing anything, I was thinking I'd take my new favorite person in the world," he promised, trying his best to be nonchalant. He didn't want to force her to go, Michelle liked sports, but was more than content to sit at home and watch, but he wasn't going to give up her spot without at least trying.
"She sounds great. Do I know her?"
He tugged her closer, silencing her playful banter with the slip of his tongue. Rolling her beneath him, he kissed her neck, sliding lower until his mouth encountered the buttons on her shirt. His hands crept up, releasing the top two. He wanted to get to the present underneath his present.
Michelle drew him up again, touching his cheek. "Happy Birthday, Tony."
Et Fini.
Author's Note: The working title for this fic was 'The Michelle would look Totally Hot in a Cubs jersey' Fic. I think we can all agree it's the truth.