Author's note: Hey, guys! This is my second fanfic in English and just so you know, English is not my first language. To find and correct my mistakes, I have my amazing beta, Little Latina. Thank you, girl! And I'd also like to thank my portuguese 24 beta, Lara. Dude, your support is always needed! Doesn't matter the language! Thank you both! I hope you enjoy this story and it takes place right after the finale of season 4. Strongly M.

24 doesn't belong to me or it would never reach an end.

Make This Go On Forever
Tony and Michelle
Romance

"The first kiss and the first time
that I felt connected to anything."

He couldn't stop staring at her as she walked into the living room. Maybe it was because of her new set of clothing, as casual as he could remember when they once lived together. Maybe it was the fact that she was barefoot, making the whole scene inexplicably intimate. Or maybe was the way she had combed her hair, all her curls back in their place, exploding from every possible angle just like he loved.

"What do you want to eat?" – Her sweet voice sounding right beside him brought him back from his reverie.

"Did you learn how to cook while I wasn't around?" - He used a playful tone, trying to focus the joke on her skills, or lack of as a matter of fact, and not in the particular time frame he was referring to. She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes.

"No, I didn't, not really. I mean…" – She blushed, turning her face to one side so he couldn't see it. Tony stood up from the couch and moved a little closer to her, his index finger automatically lifting her chin and bringing her face to his own. They were so close he could feel his breath mingling with hers. – "You should come with me and see what I'm talking about." – She offered, trying again to smile.

"Michelle,"

"Can we eat first?" – She interrupted him, knowing he would demand answers she wasn't ready to give. Not about what she was feeling. Not about the day they've just had survived. Not about anything for that matter. – "Please?"

And then he couldn't stop himself from smiling. There it was. Her same pleading face. The only thing that could make him forget about what he wanted and practically force him to do whatever she had in that brilliant mind of hers.

"Then we talk." – He stated, following her into the kitchen. She wasn't going to run away this time.

He stayed behind her as she went to the fridge, avoiding to touch her – she needed space, he could tell, and he almost sighed happily noticing he hadn't lost his ability to read her right through her soul – and almost took three steps back after seeing what she apparently considered food.

"Please tell me you actually eat something different from all of this food I'm looking at."

She shook her head, bending over to grab the closest frozen food she could reach only to be stopped by him.

"Are you kidding me, Michelle?" – He turned her around to face him, a truly serious expression on his face.

Since they've been together, he would make sure she was eating well and every time she was supposed to. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, occasionally snacks. No matter what she was doing, or in what she was working on, she knew she had to take a break and eat. No exceptions. No excuses.

"I don't know how to cook. What did you expected me to do?" – She wished she could look away from his eyes but she actually didn't fight against it. It was one of the most amazing things about them: they would always look into each other eyes whether they were arguing, saying sweet nothings to each other or making love. It didn't matter. It was always eye to eye. Heart to heart.

"I…" – He released her, and one of his hands involuntarily came to scratch the side of his face. – "I'm sorry." – Was all he could manage to say and she nodded, truly understanding his reaction. – "Would you let me cook something for you?"

She felt the butterflies all over again, just like she had felt when he suddenly grabbed her head, pulling her to him and kissing her so passionately before going on his mission.

"I would love that."

He grinned, probably looking like an idiot but he didn't care. And she did it too, even though her eyes remained sad.

24

"It was fantastic, Tony. Thank you." – She hadn't eaten that good in quite sometime now and she was sure her appreciation wasn't hard to notice. – "I really missed…" – They locked eyes and she felt her heart skipping a beat. Every damn thing about you.

"I know." – And he did. During the first weeks after she was gone, he would cook as if she was still there. As if they still lived together and he had someone to cook for. Every meal, he had cooked it for him and especially, for her. Until he convinced himself that she wouldn't come back to eat them.

She tracked back to the living room, sitting where he previously was. He studied her for a while until finally taking his place right next to her. It was time to lay everything on the table and she couldn't hide it. Not from him. Not from them.

"What's on your mind?" – He asked softly, hoping she would talk to him right away. It worried him, the expression in her face, the lost look in her eyes throughout the dinner. She should be happy, right? Okay, not happy, considering the way Jack had to 'die' and the lives that were lost just a few hours ago, but definitely not the way she was acting.

"Nothing. I'm just tired, Tony."

There it was. Six months can't really change someone, can it? He was glad to know that she was the same Michelle he hadn't stopped loving. The same woman he had married and would marry all over again if that was a part of her plans to start over. He shouldn't have even hoped a straight and honest answer.

"Don't lie to me, Michelle." – He said so firmly that she turned her head, finally meeting his gaze. - "Even If I don't see you for a million years, I'll still read you as good and accurate as the last time we saw each other. I'll still…" – Love you. – "So please, talk to me."

She kept staring into space, and he was about to ask her to talk again when she found her voice.

"You were dead." – She whispered, now staring at her hands, securely placed in her lap. Tony blinked, taken aback by her words and instinctively inched a little closer to her, taking one of her hands and linking their fingers together. He felt her clasping his hand, as strong as her weak form could muster.

"I'm not dead. I'm right here, Michelle. Hey…" – He whispered back, that characteristic 'hey' that could only belong to him. She looked at him despite the voice in her head telling her she shouldn't do this or she might lose her composure.

"You were dead." – She repeated the words she had previously whispered, not bearing to see for another minute his so worried eyes. – "And it was my fault, it was my fault, completely."

In a sudden movement, he was on his knees, right in front of her, their eyes leveled. She had to understand it wasn't her fault, none of what had happened.

"We both know it wasn't. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"Stop it, Tony. Stop pretending my decision doesn't bother you, that it hasn't disappointed you. My stupid decision killed you. For minutes, you were dead because of me."

"Michelle," – He wasn't disappointed, he wasn't angry, he was just tired. All he wanted was to take her in his arms and allow them both to fall asleep. A long, good night of sleep after six months when all he had done was toss around and turn around in bed. – "Believe me when I say that we did the best we could."

"My best was clearly not good enough."

"I'm alive, Michelle. That's enough."

"No. Not for me." – The pain that flickered in her eyes stopped his heart and he paused, searching through his mind an argument that could convince her about her decision, the right and rational one. – "I was going to kill myself." – And then he froze, all the parts of his body went rigid at the mention of that simple idea.

"What?"

She nodded, confirming what he thought he had heard.

"What are you talking about?"

"Just promise me you won't interrupt me. I have to tell you this. I need you to…" – She sighed, she was so tired her eyelids felt heavy. – "understand it. I need you to see it from my point of view."

"I promise."

She took his left hand, slowly tracing the finger where once their wedding ring had been.

"I didn't want to leave you." – He opened his mouth, but she put her index finger on it, her eyes reminding him of his promise. – "People think I don't know what you did for me that day. The sacrifices you made and the ones you were ready to make. You were willing to do whatever it took so you could rescue me, even if it meant the loss of thousands of innocent lives. And I can't even begin to say what that shows me. How much loved I feel because of what you did. Did you even stop to analyze if I was worth it?"

"You were and still are worth it." – He said without hesitation, not caring about his promise.

"You went to prison. And when President Palmer pardoned you, you were already a different man. You weren't the Tony I used to know. You weren't my husband. But I couldn't give up on you, at least not during those first months. So I fought. God, Tony, I tried so hard to make you see what you were throwing away, how far you were pushing me away."

"I'm sorry." – A tear streamed down her face and he automatically wiped it away. – "I'm so, so sorry, Michelle."

"It wasn't your fault. But one day, it was all too much. And I left. I shouldn't have done that. Can't you see? The two times you needed me the most, I left you behind. How do you even love me?" – She asked so sincerely he almost laughed at her innocence. – "And then, we were working together again. You said you hated being without me and that was the best thing I've heard in the past months. We were going to start over. You kissed me. And then you were dead because I didn't do what you did." – He shook his head, wishing he could stop her from saying that. – "I watched as the car you were supposed to be in exploded. And after that, Bill sent me home." – He wiped another tear from her cheek. – "I reached my car and locked it. I felt so empty, Tony, so empty." – She sobbed, remembering the hole that she could swear was created in her heart during those minutes. – "I didn't need to close my eyes to see the whole life I had with you. And I realized how much I loved you. I realized you were…" – It was her turn to touch him, her hands coming to rest on one side of his face, absently caressing him. For a while, it was all she did: touch and look at him, completely lost in the moment. – "I realized you were everything."

And he could see the truth of those words in her beautiful eyes. Yes, she would have committed suicide after that day. Yes, he was everything to her.

"I was left with nothing, absolutely nothing. All over again. And now for good. There wasn't the hope that someday you would come back to me, the hope that we could make things work. You were dead."

He couldn't take any of it anymore. His heart was being ripped apart, his throat closing and his mind was empty. Her words and her strong feelings for him were practically tangible. So instead of expressing himself with words, he grabbed her, pushing her forward and placing her on his lap. His arms went around her waist, securely holding her to him. Not letting go. He wouldn't let her go. Not anymore. Never.

They remained in silence, and he closed his eyes, concentrating in everything about her: her hard breathing, her head resting against his chest, the weight of her body nestled in his arms, her white and delicate fingers clasping the front of his t-shirt so hard it seemed as if her life depended on it. He let his own finger trace patterns around her left arm, then around her face. He pressed his nose into her hair, smelling the shampoo he still remembered belonging to her. His Michelle. His.

He still couldn't believe they were together again. Fate can be ironic sometimes. When he first saw her that night, he had to hear her voice to actually believe that the cold, bossy and distant woman in front of him was her. For a while, she was Michelle Dessler, director of CTU. Not Michelle, his Michelle. And he was pretty sure after their first interaction that either he left or things between them would get even worse, if that was possible. In fact, he even tried doing that but she said they were going to need him and then, for the first time that day, he saw her old self, the truly meaning behind her words: I'm going to need you. And so he stayed. For the country. For her. For them, whatever the hell they were.

Just like the others two days, the awful events that followed brought them together each passing hour. Until he was saying he hated being without her, asking her to leave all of that behind them, to start over new. With him. Minutes later, when he thought she couldn't do that, when he thought she couldn't change everything for him, she surprised him, confessing she couldn't spend another day without him. She was ready to leave CTU, ready to go with him.

For a moment, he thought she was asleep but when he opened his eyes and looked down at her, he found her staring at him, her eyes searching for some kind of response in his face, in his eyes. He hadn't said anything and he wondered if she was thinking all she had told him was too much. It wasn't and it was time for him to show her his soul, just like she had shown him hers some minutes ago.

He gently laid her on the floor, and since she didn't protest, he went ahead, covering her body with his own, supporting himself up on his elbows so this way he could look at her.

"Michelle…" – He whispered, and she almost closed her eyes, the feeling of one of his legs between hers sending a very old and truly amazing sensation down her body. – "First of all, you have to believe I don't blame you for none of what happened. Nor today, nor six months ago. It was me, me and my weakness. I was a traitor to my country and it was hard to accept that when all I had done in the past years of my life was protecting this same country and its citizens. It wasn't fair and it also cut short my possibilities of getting a new job, any occupation that would take my mind off of my rage, any occupation that would give me a fresh start, with you. But I didn't find it. So I blamed everything and everyone. I knew, Michelle, I knew I was hurting you and it only hurt me even more. But I couldn't stop being a jerk. And for that, I'm so sorry."

"Tony, don't go,"

"No. Listen to me, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

It had been so long since she last heard it. She loved it when he said that. The way he looked at her while saying it: completely devoted.

"I let things get out of control. I pushed you away. I know you stayed by my side as long as you could until you reached your limit. Everybody has a limit, Michelle." – She nodded. That was true. – "And when you left, everything really fell apart. I was still a jerk and I was completely alone. Those were the worst six months of my life."

"I know." – She so did.

"And these past 24 hours? God, it was crazy. Sometimes I don't know if it really happened, if I will still be with you when I wake up…"

"No." – She run a hand up and down his arm, assuring him he wouldn't. Not another day. – "I'll be here when you wake up."

"See? That was matters now. You and me. Waking up to one another. Please, stop blaming yourself. Leave all this behind. Please, Michelle. Let's start over. A new life where you don't have to think about committing suicide…, this idea drives me crazy. Don't you ever do that."

She titled her head to one side, and then grasped his t-shirt, tugging him close. His lips were mere centimeters away from hers, touching slightly.

"So promise me you are not going to die on me. Don't you dare dying on me again, Tony."

"I promise."

Now he knew he could promise that, he was sure he was going to keep both of them safe.

"I love you so much, Michelle. I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. You…" – He used a finger to slide her hair behind her ear. He had missed doing that, all of that. – "You are everything to me. And I really want us to be together again."

He watched as her eyes gradually changed, going from troubled to happy, shiny. That, that was what he needed to see. That was what had always made his heart beat faster; it was what made his head spin. And she finally, finally smiled. That smile he knew was only for him. And he couldn't do anything but smile with her, until the temptation was too much and he leaned in, covering her mouth with his.

They kissed passionately, not worrying about some coworker finding them, lost in the moment. He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, and then pushed it into her mouth, their tongues curling around one another immediately. He pressed his hips to hers, and when she moaned, he almost lost his mind. It had been six months without hearing her do that, without feeling all of her under him, their bodies pressed together from head to toe.

She could feel him growing harder, and she knew he was waiting for her to lead the way, to do that at her own pace.

"Make love to me, Tony." – He looked deeply in her eyes, searching for any insecurity she might had but he found none. He smiled, nipping at her ear, his breath making her whole body tremble.

"I love you." – He repeated, right in her ear, feeling another spasm course through her body. He loved doing that, driving her crazy with his words, and nothing had changed or was forgotten in those six months.

She rocked slowly against his erection, feeling him as hard as she could remember.

"God, Tony! Please, I need to…" – He pressed himself to her, and she moaned again, louder this time. – "Tony…"

He would do that as slow as both of them would be able to handle, so he ignored her attempts to make it faster, his tongue skimming over her jaw and down the column of her throat. His hands unbuttoned her blouse and without wasting any time, he also unhooked her bra, taking one of her breast fully into his mouth.

"Oh God, Tony!" – She gasped, not believing all the strong sensations that were running through her. And by the way he was alternating between devouring her breasts and sucking at her nipples, she knew he was feeling the same. – "Yes, Tony. God, feels so good."

"Doesn't it?" – He teased, pushing her pants and underwear down and tossing them in any direction.

"Stop. I want," – She placed both of her hands in his chest, lifting him a bit and effectively stopping him. – "I want to see you too." – And before he could react, she was fisting his shirt, rapidly peeling it off. She palmed her hands in his chest, feeling his heart beating crazily. – "Do you really love me?" – She asked again, now knowing the answer for sure but wanting to hear it again and again.

"Yes, more than anything."

She smiled, and her fingers fumbled with the zipper of his pants, only taking a second to drag it off his body, and then doing the same with his boxers. She couldn't stop the moan that escaped from her throat at the sight of him naked and so ready for her.

"I need you."

And there he knew he couldn't wait any longer. He lowered his body, penetrating her so slowly that they both cried out loud at the pleasure that coursed through them. He went as deep as he could, and then all the way back.

"Harder, Tony, I…"

He thrust into her. Harder. Faster. Deeper. And she moaned louder than any other time he could remember. He kept this pace, until her head tipped back, eyes closing, cheeks flushing, as her orgasm washed over her. He felt her walls clenching around him and he came with her, his head falling into her chest.

They have just made love on the floor, not on a bed, or even on the couch but they didn't care, not wanting to wait any other second to do it. To love. To start over.

It was important to them.