Things went surprisingly smoothly from there. Upon their return to the CTU, Chloe and her team sifted through the information she pulled from LeGuerre's system. Apparently, LeGuerre was as anal and prolific in his record keeping as the Nazi's. Apparently, he hadn't read Terrorism 103: Compartmentalize, Compartmentalize, Compartmentalize.
In less than six hours, government agents, in co-operation with MI-5 and French Intelligence, staged assaults on LeGuerre cells in Los Angeles, Miami, Washington DC, Paris and London. The compound in New York had already been reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble, thanks to fires that resulted from Reese's excessive fondness for C4.
All in all, a good days work.
Tossing her borrowed field clothes into a hamper in the locker room, Chloe grinned, ready to head home for a night of Pizza and TV. She had a few episodes of Leverage TiVoed and thought she might catch up on the show. Prescott was spending the week at Morris's, so a night off was actually a night off. With that in mind, she shrugged into her jacket and shouldered her purse.
As she made her way towards the door, she glanced down one of the empty rows of lockers. At least, she thought the room was empty, but she'd been wrong. Jack was sitting on the bench by his locker, bare from the waist up, elbows resting on denim clad knees, head bowed. He was leaning forward to reveal at his waist a tan line. The white skin contrasted starkly with the darker back and her eyes explored the exposed musculature, toned from years of hard work.
In the bright fluorescent light, Chloe became aware of several things. The first, most fanciful thought, was that Jack had managed to avoid falling victim to the middle aged spread that softened many men's waist lines…of course, he was barely middle age, but somehow she couldn't imagine him ever letting that happen.
The second was a wave of sadness. She'd never seen the extent of heavy scarring left on his body from his 2 years in a Chinese prison. They had faded somewhat over the course of the paste couple of years, but the sheer number of them, some thin and precise, others broad and ragged, was heart breaking.
The third was puzzlement. Purple bruising discolored one side of his rib cage, three areas of injury that nearly blended into one angry mass. There hadn't been much hand to hand in today's op and she was certain she hadn't seen anyone land a blow to his side.
"Jack?" she said, voice echoing off of the metal lockers and tile walls. "What happened? Are you okay?"
He started, glancing up at her . He reached for a clean shirt then hesitated and winced, saying, "Fine, Chloe. The vest did it's job."
"You got shot!" How had she not known about that?
She stepped down the aisle, dropping her purse as she settled onto the bench beside him. "Did you at least get checked by medical?"
He shook his head. "It's just bruising, Chloe. I know what broken ribs feel like."
With a frown, she raised her hand and placed it on the most livid bruising. His skin was hot, angry and inflamed under her questing fingers, but she didn't want to probe too forcefully, for fear that she might cause him more pain. She traced the purple blue points of impact, fingers spiraling out to the reddened skin that surrounded them, stroking where the discoloration faded into healthy skin or old scars.
His sharp breath, followed by a muttered curse as his ribs were strained, made Chloe look up and meet his gaze. Heavy, somewhat dilated eyes peered back at her softly, similar to his expression in the SUV, when he fixed her hair.
It was then that she realized she was sitting there, alone with Jack, her hands on his bare skin. This was the point where her awkward, foot in mouth disease normally kicked in. A lifetime of saying the wrong thing at exactly the wrong moment wasn't something one just grew out of…except, apparently, she did, as she just smiled and said, "Well, if you're not gonna take care of yourself, I guess I'll do it. Let's get you dressed…You like pepperoni pizza, right?"
Jack smiled in response and gave a nod.
He'd thought himself alone in the locker room as he struggled out of the grey, long sleeved t-shirt he had been wearing for far too many hours. His sore side protested and once again he was grateful for the efficacy of the CTU's new Kevlar vests. During the firefight at LeGuerre's, he'd taken three rounds in the vest, not enough to drop him when the adrenaline was pumping, but enough to make him seriously miserable now.
Chloe had startled him when she called his name. He hadn't heard her, the soles of her flats soft and quiet on the floor, so unlike the heavy boots of field agents or the tap tap of heels. He looked up to see her staring, and reached for a shirt out of reflex, but was stopped by a tug at his side.
If there was anyone he trusted to see his battered, scarred skin, it was Chloe. True, she'd never seen the full extent of the damage, but had seen his hand and arm and was not a stupid woman.
She moved over to join him on the bench, assessing his injuries, questioning and finally probing gently. It hurt where the soft pads of her fingers brushed the deep bruises, tingled slightly on the scars. As her touch moved to healthy flesh, the tingles increased and he took a deep breath.
His ribs registered their immediate and vehement protest at that action and he worked to keep his breats steady and regular as Chloe looked up, locking her big hazel eyes on him. Moments passed as they held each others gaze before she smiled and basically told him she was taking him home to look after him.
He found he was very okay with that idea and smiled as he agreed.
Picking through the sparse selection of shirts in his locker, he frowned. One t-shirt had been a gift from Kim, who seemed intent on dragging his sartorial style into the 21st Century and had given him a few Ed Hardy shirts. Personally, he thought they were hideous, so he just chose the blue Hanes T instead.
It wasn't a comfortable process, pulling the shirt over his head, but Chloe helped, then eased his jacket onto his shoulders. She gathered up her purse as he gingerly picked up his messenger bag and together they made their way out of the CTU for the night.
TBC….
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