Title: Interlude

Author: thecrystalkey

Summary: A what might happen following immediately after episode 5x12

Spoilers: Season 5 of 24

Disclaimer: Nothing in '24' is mine, especially not the characters that appear or are mentioned here or any of the Day 5 plot lines mentioned. It all belongs to Twentieth Century Fox, Real Time Productions and its creators Joel Surnow and Robert Cochran.

Author's notes:

1) Inspired by scoob2222's fic "She Could" (which is an excellent piece of writing) and posted at…I took the link down because it wasn't working and the story's right here in the 24 section anyway.

2) What little is mentioned of Chloe's background is part of my own invention (and based on hints from the show) and explained more thoroughly in "End To A Long Day" and possibly in future fics. If this stupid laryngitis continues, I guarantee there will be more fics. I am SO FREAKIN' BORED. And on a side note, I have now learned my lesson about using the editing software on this site. Don't.

7:00 PM to 7:05 PM

The room was silent. The people within it were still too horrified at the sight beyond the glass walls even to move. Most eyes were fixed on the form of Edgar Stiles now lying dead on the main floor, a victim of the nerve gas they themselves were trying to track. Others had died right next to the glass but they were unknown to the survivors, strangers. That they had died was awful, of course, but Edgar's death was so much more personal because many of them had known him.

Most eyes were on the body of Edgar Stiles, but not all. One set of eyes was focused on the still figure closest to the door. Jack Bauer was watching Chloe O'Brian. As she grieved for her friend, Jack grieved with her. He hadn't really known Edgar, having only really had contact with him those times that Chloe was unavailable, but because the other man's death hurt Chloe, it also hurt Jack. And left the former CTU agent wondering when that had happened, that her pain had become his.

It must have been some time in the eighteen months that his (after)life had rested solely in her hands; that year and a half when his biggest secrets had been hers alone to hold. Four people had known he was alive; the three who'd helped stage his death and the one who'd called to warn him it was necessary. Since 0700 on the morning of that day eighteen months ago he'd been effectively dead to three of those four.

Chloe had been the exception. For a year and a half, she'd made it her mission to watch his back from afar. Using her resources at CTU to set up contact protocols between them just as if he were any other undercover agent, passing him any information he might need, helping him set up new identities when he had to move on. She'd asked only that he occasionally check in and keep her informed when he moved. It had been like having a guardian angel. He'd been surprised by how comforting it was, knowing someone was watching over him. And later on, living poor and alone, it had been a relief to know that someone still cared about his well-being.

His blood had run cold this morning when she'd filled him on the situation. He hadn't initially had a plan beyond 'get to Chloe as fast as humanly possible' when he'd taken that helicopter. Well, actually, there had been a second part to the plan: keep her the hell with him until he was sure she was out of danger. He couldn't afford to lose any more friends, much less the only person he trusted absolutely.

Even two years ago, Jack Bauer would have doubted he even had the capacity to trust that deeply anymore. Then Chloe had come back into his life and placed her absolute faith in him; risking jail time, sanctions, and her career for him even after he'd allowed her friend to be tortured and almost killed. She'd said she'd never forgive him, thank God she hadn't meant it.

There were people, like Tony Almeida and Bill Buchanan, who understood why he'd done some of the things he had and even to some extent what it cost him to do those things. But there were times when even Tony got that look in his eyes. Horror, disgust, fear. That look was the reason Jack couldn't meet his daughter's eyes anymore.

All of them got that look sometimes, when he'd just done something particularly ruthless and terrible. Even the ones who'd only heard about it through the remarkably fast grapevine within the CTU. Everyone except Chloe. She was strong, and intelligent, and the only one he could count on to see the big picture when he explained it, whatever the circumstances. His other half, of sorts; not romantically maybe, but in every way that counted. The only other person in the world who saw things the way he did. Who was willing to see them that way.

Over the last year or so Jack had even begun to forget that she wasn't a field agent; hence his surprise at the refinery when she said she'd taken a cab rather than having acquired a car as he would have done.

Now she was standing at the doors to the Situation Room with tears in her eyes, having just watched a friend die, and Jack was reminded again that she wasn't used to this. He'd had to look away from her in Edgar's final moments, unable to stand the sight of her in pain any longer. And feeling a little guilty about the not-so-small voice in his head that hoped like hell she got over it quickly because he needed her functional to find the rest of the nerve gas.

After what seemed like forever, but couldn't have been more than a few seconds after Stiles had stopped breathing, she finally moved. Jack looked up when she did, to find her eyes on him, ablaze with grief and anger. Mostly anger. Good.

The others were eyeing her warily, but Jack was relieved. She hadn't turned away from the sight of a dying friend, difficult as it been to watch, and, if the look in her eyes was any indication, wouldn't let it collapse her. She was turning her grief to anger and directing against the ones responsible for it. That's the way, he thought, never let them see you flinch or falter.

Jack knew what she wanted before she spoke. Retribution. Vengeance. She held his eyes, and while she did the others in the room seemed to fade out and nothing existed but the two of them and the pact they were making.

"I want them, Jack," she said. "Dead or in custody, I don't care. You got the guy who did this. Good. But I want the one that ordered, and the ones behind him, and the ones behind them. As far up as this goes, as far around the world as it stretches; I want every last one of them taken down. Help me do that."

"You don't even have to ask," he said softly. "I swear to you, Chloe, I will do everything in my power to see that that happens. Whatever it takes. We'll take them down."

"Good. Whatever it takes, I'm there," she promised him. For the moment more that she held his eyes Jack was very, very tempted to hand her a gun and point her in the right general direction. If they'd had that direction, he might just have done it.

Her father had been military and loved his guns. The man had also felt that the best way to avoid accidental shootings was to train every member of his household in the use of those guns. She was a very good shot. She might not be trained in Field Ops but in her current mood, she'd be the next thing to unstoppable.

She turned away from the door and went back to her laptop.

"The first thing we need to do is get out of here, along with everyone else who made it to the sealed rooms," he said. "Or better yet, find a way to purge the gas from CTU without creating more casualties. I need to be able to start questioning Henderson again as soon as possible."

"Working on it," she said, already quickly typing away. "We need to find out who else is still alive in here, too."

"I'll start calling the sealed areas," Audrey volunteered. She still looked distraught, but also like she welcomed having a task to do.

Jack nodded thanks to her and went to stand behind Chloe. "Are you still connected to Henderson's home computer?"

"Yeah," she answered absently. "I'm running a decryption program, but I don't know if it'll work. Even if it does, it could take hours; especially with the others who were working on it dead or locked outside. I know you can't exactly do anything about it now, but it would help if I had anything at all to work with. Even if it's just a list of family names, nicknames, and pets."

"I doubt he'd use those, he was trained by CTU," he pointed out.

"It's still a place to start, Jack," she said, throwing him an exasperated look. "Which is more than I have now. Even his old CTU codes could help. He probably didn't use those either, but he might have used a variation of them. Anything's better than nothing."

"Those codes I can help you with." Jack grabbed a pen and paper and started scribbling what he could remember of his old boss' access codes. Except for Audrey, speaking softly into one of the phone handsets, the others were silent staring at Jack and Chloe in appalled fascination.

"I see what you meant," Barry murmured quietly to Kim after a few moments. She looked up at her boyfriend blankly. "About your father being closed off emotionally," he explained.

Jack glared at him and Kim moved to stand between her boyfriend and her father. Her expression was hard. There didn't need to be words for a conversation to happen.

"Jack," Chloe's voice brought him back to the task at hand. "If you want those files any sooner, I need that list."

"I always knew you were weird," Kim said to Chloe. "But I didn't think you were this cold. Your friend is lying dead out there and you're just back to work. I never realized before how alike you two are," she said bitterly, looking from Chloe to Jack. "No wonder you trusted her but not me."

"Look," Chloe snapped before Jack could answer. "I already told you, all four of us that did know were targeted this morning. Or did you want to wake up to find a bomb in your car this morning? And then be chased by hit men because the bomb didn't work? The only reason I'm alive right now is because of your dad. The only reason anybody got out of Ontario airport alive earlier is because of him."

"Chloe," Jack said quietly.

She made an apologetic expression. "Sorry. She started it."

"It seems to me the only reason you were in danger this morning is because of him," Barry said to Chloe.

"The only reason I was in danger this morning was because some misguided idiots tried to frame Jack for murder," she answered without thinking. "If anything, it's my fault. If my systems had been more secure they'd never have figured out that Jack was alive." She stared at him for a moment. "I probably should have asked this first but, who are you?"

"Barry Landis."

"He's a clinical psychologist," Jack informed her.

"Great," Chloe muttered. "Just what we needed."

"You don't like psychologists?"

"They don't like me," she said flatly. "I make them cry. Analyze somebody else, I have work to do."

"I have to do something," Barry said. "Since nobody seems to want to tell us what the hell is going on."

" Fine. The terrorists who went after my friends this morning did it as part of a plan to get their hands on a nerve agent," Jack said shortly. "Unfortunately, they succeeded. They got 20 canisters. They've released two in public areas with minimal casualties. Five minutes ago, they released a third one. You just saw its effects. What happened here is a tragedy but it is nothing to what will happen if these terrorists are allowed to release the remaining seventeen canisters in populated areas. So we need to work, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop trying to distract Chloe from her job."

"Nerve agent?" It was the first time Barry had sounded less than calm.

"Oh, God," Kim said faintly.

Before the conversation could get any further, Audrey interrupted. "Jack? Tony's awake. Eric got him and Henderson into isolation in time. He wants to talk to you. Right now."

END (a/n: This was an arbitrary place to end it. It was intended to be a much shorter piece than it is, but then the thought hit. A clinical psychologist locked in a room with Jack and Chloe in work-mode...The possibilities were just too much. This may yet have a sequel from Barry's side.)