Hey guys, here's Tony's POV, hope you enjoy... And thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 1!
Day 1 – Day 2
She was late.
She was never late – always perfectly on time, sitting at her station, impeccably dressed, sipping coffee and smiling a shy good morning at him by the time he entered the bullpen. He hadn't realized how he had gotten used to this sight in the six months she'd been working at CTU. Hadn't realized she was always the first thing his eyes searched for, and how much he unconsciously looked forward to seeing her every day.
He felt a strange tingle of unease creep up the back of his neck now that she wasn't there.
He shrugged it off and made his way over to his own station. He turned on his computer, inwardly groaning at the amount of work-related emails he had received since yesterday evening. He procrastinated having to deal with them by heading for the break room for a much needed cup of coffee.
When he got back from his station, there was still no sign of her. Sighing, he reluctantly sorted through the emails, cursing the stupidity of mankind several times in the process. He caught himself throwing regular glances at her desk, just to check if she had arrived yet.
Stop it, he warned himself.
But it was an urge he couldn't resist, despite his best efforts. He was perfectly aware of the fact that if it were anyone else he probably wouldn't even realize they were missing, and this only infuriated him more. He fidgeted in his chair, squashing the desire to call Mason's extension and ask him if she had called in sick. He came dangerously close to actually doing it again a few minutes later, but stopped himself by rationalizing that Mason would see right through him and never let him live it down for the rest of his career at CTU.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair, already bored before the day had really begun. He didn't want a slow day now, not when he so obviously needed a little distraction and a lot of motivation. Where the hell were terrorist threats when you needed them?
He forced himself back to his emails but his mind stayed on her, against his better judgement. He hated that he couldn't figure out why she intrigued him so much. Sure, she was attractive (if he was honest with himself he knew was more than attractive, she was even more than just beautiful. She was simply… stunning), and she was intelligent, and compassionate, and a lot of fun… But there was something else about her, something he couldn't explain, that just drew him to her, as much as he fought against it.
He froze as a thought struck him. What if she'd been in a car accident? It had rained a little very early in the morning, the roads might still be slippery – what if her tires had slipped? What if she was lying there somewhere, covered in blood, fighting for her life…?
Oh, for fuck's sake, Almeida! he chastised himself. Get a grip! She did not a have a car accident. And besides, what would you care if she did?
Except he would care. He would care far too much for just a healthy co-workers/friends relationship, and he knew it.
He was saved from his nasty train of thoughts a few moments later when the doors opened to reveal her hurrying towards her station, looking a somewhat flustered. His first instinct was to grab the phone and ask her straight away what was up, but he again told himself to get a grip and lay off her.
He took the opportunity when she passed his station on her way to the Tech room ten minutes later and offered him small smile and a quiet, "Hey."
"Hey," he greeted her back in what he hoped was a casual way. "So uh… did you oversleep or somethin'?" he joked lightly.
She smiled. "No, um… There was an accident on the freeway and I had to take a whole bunch of detours. I called George but I guess he didn't tell you…"
He shook his head, silently damning Mason for not saving him from his own mental torture.
"Well…" She nervously pushed a loose curl behind her ear as they stared awkwardly at each other. "I'd better get these to Chris."
She indicated the files in her hand and he nodded. "Yeah. See ya later."
Her eyes lingered on his a second longer than they needed to, and she blushed noticeably before quickly turning on her heel. He fought the queasy feeling in his stomach as he watched her hurry away.
Day 2 – Day 3
"Alright. Good work, Tony. It's been a long day, I'm sure you're all tired."
He turned slightly to look at Michelle, who was sitting on the couch in his office waiting for him to finish up. Her legs were crossed elegantly, her chin was resting in one hand as she studied the fingernails of her other hand disinterestedly with obviously exhausted eyes.
He turned back to Chappelle on the other end of the line. "Yeah. We are."
The regional director droned on about the proper protocols and information that needed to be worked up as soon as possible over the course of the following days, and Tony, in his desire to just get the phone call over with, had to fight to urge to snap that he had been director for almost two years now and to give him a little credit.
He was extremely relieved to hang up the phone five minutes later, and was just about say something about getting the hell out of here when he saw Michelle had dozed off against his couch, her head still supported by her hand. He felt something tug at his heart and smiled a little in spite of himself.
Wordlessly, he sat himself down next to her, lifting his arm as she sighed and instinctively fell against him. He ran his hand down her back affectionately and let his lips trail over her hair.
"Some day, huh?" he said softly, and she groaned a little in response.
They had been blasted awake by Tony's cell phone at four-thirty on the morning, with orders to get to CTU as fast as they could. Once they'd arrived, they were immediately plagued by one terrorist threat after the other, including a bomb threat in an elementary school and the high-jacking of a civilian aircraft. The mastermind behind these attacks was a former government agent whose two children had lost their lives because of a CIA operation that became personal fifteen years ago. These kind of situations were always difficult; neither Tony nor Michelle could imagine being so consumed by hatred towards the government that they would kill so many innocents just for revenge, but they both knew all too well that these things happened all the time. Far too often than they were both comfortable with.
Luckily, both the Field teams and the people in IT had done exceptional work, resulting in only two civilian casualties (both passengers on the plane) and very few agents killed in the line of duty. The threats had passed an hour before midnight, but it had taken until well past two to debrief everyone who needed debriefing and complete all the paperwork.
By now almost everyone had gone home; downstairs the night shift was already monotonously working up the information with Michelle's precise instructions.
"I got us a day off together next week," Tony told her, hoping to give her enough energy to make it to the car.
She still didn't open her eyes but definitely sounded content when she asked, "What day?"
"Tuesday."
"Mmm." He snuggled further against him and he brushed his lips against her forehead in a feather-light kiss. "I can't wait."
He smiled as his thumb found the smooth skin underneath her shirt. "Yeah, me neither."
They fell into comfortable silence for a moment, until he gently squeezed her hip and said, "Come on. Let's get outta here."
She groaned a little. "Two more minutes."
He chuckled softly. "Now."
She started to protest but he interrupted her by slowly standing up without loosening his grip on her, causing her to also stumble to her feet.
"Okay, okay," she mumbled.
"Don't forget you purse," he instructed as he released her to reach for his own jacket and briefcase.
Seconds later, they were making there way down the stairs. They nodded goodnight to the night shift and as they moved closer towards the exit, Tony couldn't resist wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders and pulling her closer. They had agreed a long time ago that they wouldn't do this at work, at least not where everyone could see them, but after a day like today the rules and their image didn't seem so important, and he could tell be the she subtly leaned against him that she felt the same way.
The doors opened and they headed out into the dark Los Angeles night.
Day 3 – Day 4
He wondered how long he had been lying awake. It must have been hours now.
He wondered how many hours he had lay awake since she left him. Since he got home from prison. Since they took him away. Since Jack Bauer had forced him to keep secrets from his wife.
It seemed he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in decades.
Jen shifted next to him and he tensed, not wanting her to wake up and ask what was wrong. He knew he would lash out at her, punish her for not being the person he needed. Sometimes he looked at her and truly hated her for not being Michelle.
Michelle.
He squeezed his eyes shut as unwelcome memories washed over him at the mere sound of her name in his troubled head. He still remembered her smile, her smell, and how she would cuddle up against him in the middle of the night, warming him from the inside out. He still remembered the glint in her eyes on the day she married him. He still remembered what her voice sounded like when he called her at her station just to ask how she was doing. He still remembered what it felt like to be loved in a way that only she could.
No amount of drinking could take all this away – not that he didn't try.
He hadn't seen her in four months now, since the day she finally broke down, packed her bags and walked away. He went through various stages after she left – at first he was simply stunned, then he went through quite a few different kinds of denial and when that wore off he was consumed by a fury that had coursed through his veins like a monster.
That was weeks ago. Now all he felt was a dull pain, bitterness and regret.
The bottle was still a part of his every-day life, though he had recently started drinking at home instead of out in bars. He felt no shame or embarrassment whatsoever towards Jen, and so he found it easier to just waste away at home rather than have to move himself for it. He knew he was alienating himself even more from the outside world by doing this, but he had little reason to care much. Everything he had lived for was gone now anyway.
He tried to stop Michelle's words from entering his mind, but as usual it was hopeless. It was one of the last things she'd ever said to him, and he just couldn't get the image out of his head – how desperate she had looked, her whole body trembling, tears she had tried to hold back stubbornly making their way down her pale cheeks. The woman he loved more than life itself, falling to pieces on front of his very eyes.
"If you keep going like this, you're gonna get yourself killed!"
He had shrugged it off, laughed it off, the sound hollow and aggressive even to his own ears. "Just go to work," he'd told her harshly, "Don't worry about me."
His chest tightened and he quickly pushed the covers aside and got out of bed, trying to escape his own feeling of restlessness and self-loathing. Without thinking, he scooped up the pair of jeans he'd been wearing yesterday and pulled his wallet out of its back pocket before dropping the jeans back in a heap on the floor.
He slowly made is way into the den and sat down on the couch, flicking on the small lamp beside him. He pulled the photograph out of the secret compartment of his wallet and took his time unfolding it.
It had been taken years ago, on their honeymoon – the only real vacation they'd had the entire time they were married. There had been a free weekend here and there, but a whole week was something they knew they would not be granted again, at least not for a very long time, and they had both been determined to soak up every minute of it.
They were both smiling like idiots in the picture; so obviously, wonderfully, ridiculously happy. His arm was around her shoulders as she leaned against him, and he had just whispered something in her ear, though what he couldn't remember. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered how easily he had once been able to make her laugh.
He studied her beautiful face a few seconds longer before angrily shoving the picture back into his wallet. He took a deep breath and blinked a few times, then slowly got up and monotonously headed towards the fridge for a beer. Fully intending to keep going until he passed out.
Day 4 – Day 5
He gently pushed her feet out of his lap and stood up from the couch, tossing his chopsticks into the empty Chinese food carton and holding out a hand until she handed him her leftovers.
"You sure you don't want any more?" he asked her after seeing she hadn't eaten more than two-thirds.
She nodded. "I'm full."
He shrugged and used her chopsticks to the pop a few more mouthfuls of food into his mouth on his way to the kitchen before throwing both cartons in the trash.
He sat back down next to her and pulled her feet back into his lap, rubbing her legs as he said with a grin, "So much for eating healthy from now on, huh?"
She smiled back, closing her eyes in pleasure as his thumb firmly rubbed the sole of her bare foot. "I guess old habits die hard."
Their CTU days had been so full of all kinds of take-out – from Chinese to Indian to Thai to plain old American pizza – that when they left there they had decided to try to pay a little more attention to health and nutrition now that they had the time. This had worked beautifully until they went to work starting up their own private security company now six months ago.
"Wanna go out for coffee and dessert?" he asked, wanting something different than just food, TV and bed.
She opened her eyes to raise her eyebrows at him, and he shrugged. "What? If we're gonna be unhealthy we might as well do it right."
She laughed and started to get up. "Yeah, alright. Let me just get a sweater."
The front door slammed shut behind them five minutes later, and they headed out into the night. They had decided on a small coffee place with incredible cheesecake only a few blocks away, and were both very much enjoying the outing until out of nowhere heavy rain came crashing down from the skies.
They hadn't thought to bring an umbrella and weren't even wearing jackets, so by the time they reached the coffee place they were both soaked to the bone despite having ran for most of the way. Tony was happy for the shelter, but was unpleasantly met with fierce air-conditioning once they stepped inside.
As they settled down at a small table in the corner of the place, he noticed Michelle was already shivering violently as the cool air penetrated her drenched clothing. He cursed inwardly at their bad luck and searched for something he could wrap around her for warmth, finding only his own sweatshirt, which was also soaking wet. He scooted around the circle-shaped table and pulled her chair towards him when he was close enough to reach for it, closing an arm around her shoulders and rubbing some warmth into her.
"Stupid rain," he muttered, still trying to force the shakes out.
She smiled a little before looking up and him, placing a quick kiss to the inside of his neck and shrugging. "It's not so bad."
He looked back at her in surprise. She had always hated the rain; she said made her cloths stick to her body and her hair even more impossible. He was about to ask her what she meant when the waitress arrived, and by the time their order had been placed he had forgotten about the whole thing.
When they stepped back outside forty-five minutes later, it was still raining hard, and he once again cursed the water for taking away the little warmth the hot coffee had brought them. He spent the better part of a minute muttering about it, until she quietly interrupted him with hand against his arm, preventing him from walking any further.
"It was the rain that saved you, y'know."
He looked at her as if she was crazy, not having the faintest idea what she was talking about.
"Curtis Manning told me," she continued softly, "A few days after…"
And suddenly he knew what she meant. It had been raining when he was taken hostage very early on that fatal morning when they said goodbye to Jack by the train-tracks.
They stood there looking at each other for a moment, and he could see the emotion wash over her face despite the still pouring rain. Then he wordlessly reached for her and pulled her in, engulfing her into a warm embrace and resting his mouth against top of her head.
"You're right," he said softly after a moment of just standing there, "It isn't so bad."