Chloe O'Brien was running late. She hated being late. One of the things Chloe had always prided herself on was her promptness. She was never late for briefings, never late for movies, and never late when meeting friends. If at all possible, she tried to be early. It was more professional, and the more professional she could be, the fewer hassles she would have later. So if not early, then at least on time.

Except today.

The London briefing had run longer than expected, but she had counted on that. What she hadn't counted on was everyone sitting in the briefing room and chatting for another fifteen minutes. She hadn't wanted to just get up leave because she knew it would be seen as rude. And normally she wouldn't care, but she had been making an effort to be, well, nicer over the last few months. And she didn't want anyone wondering why she was in such a hurry. She was still on a bit of thin ice after helping Jack Bauer run circles around CTU nine months ago. So she sat there. She smiled and nodded where appropriate, and finally Bill Buchanan had cut everyone off and sent them back to work.

Then Edgar wanted to chat. He was like that and Chloe was more or less used to it. Chloe had even tried to reach out on her end a bit after his mother's death, but she knew she had let it go too far. The line between co-worker and friend had gotten blurred, and now he was hovering at her desk, asking her if she was "OK." For a moment, she wondered what he would say if she asked him to define the term.

"I'm fine, Edgar. I'm always fine. Don't you have something you're supposed to be doing right now?"

"I was going to reformat the-"

"Well you should do that then."

"Chloe-"

"What, Edgar?"

He took a few more steps into her space and Chloe bristled. "What. Edgar."

"Listen, you know I only want to help. You've been on edge all day, the last few weeks in fact. Is there something I can help you with?"

Yes.

"No. I mean, yes, I'm on edge, but no it doesn't have anything to do with anything here. I have a friend who's in a tight spot. I'm supposed to meet him for lunch and I'm running late. I have to finish my updates and go."

"It's not Tony, is it? I mean, he and Michelle are OK, aren't they?"

Chloe rolled her eyes and bit back the sharpened retort she had wanted to spit out. He was only trying to help, and it was sweet really. Irritating, but sweet. He knew she had been keeping in touch with Tony Almeida and Michelle Dessler, and like everyone else at CTU, he had no small amount of curiosity in what they were doing. But Chloe didn't have time to gossip. Not today. She was running late.

"No it's not Tony and Michelle, they're fine, it's… it's really none of your business, Edgar."

It's just my friends' life is falling apart in front of my eyes. I have to power to stop it, but I won't. I can't.

And I think he might know it.

"If you have a friend in trouble, I could help you-"

"What I need you to do is leave me alone so I can finish these and get out of here."

Chloe winced inside at the hurt look in Edgar's eyes as he returned to his station, but she didn't have time to backpedal and soften the blow. Not today.

So she turned back to her desk and tuned everything out but the computer in front of her. It was her world, where the problems were something she could fix with a few strokes of a keyboard here, or a phone call there. Not like people. People problems, she was no good at fixing. And she was stuck in the middle of one of the worst people problems in her life. And she had made the problem, or helped to, at any rate. But she pushed those thoughts away and tried to finish her updates so she could leave.

As she gathered up her bag she glanced up at the director's office. With all the blinds open she had a good view into the space. Buchanan was on the phone, sitting back in his desk chair. He was smiling, so the conversation didn't seem too serious. No impending crisis, at least. She typed up a quick IM to remind Buchanan that she was taking a long lunch. She saw him read the message and he gave Chloe a quick wave to let her know she was clear to go.

Good, won't have to go up then, she thought. She knew she would save a few minutes by not having to go up and talk to Buchanan. But she would still be late. She had promised to be at the café by 12:30, her friend had a limited lunch hour, as he was trying to make up time at work and she didn't want him to run late on her account. It was unprofessional. He hated to be late, too, but he was more laid-back about it than Chloe was.

It wasn't until she hit the doors to the parking garage that she realized that being late wasn't the only thing worrying her.

She didn't want to go in the first place. At all. She had an idea what the meeting would be about, a very good idea, in fact, and she didn't want to go. She was afraid too. Afraid to get pulled into this mess any further than she was already. Afraid that she was going to say the wrong thing, or say the right thing and watch a friend destroy himself for nothing. And not for the first time since he had walked out of CTU with Tony and Michelle, Chloe cursed under her breath-

Damn you to hell, Jack Bauer. Damn you.