Michelle sat at her station, flicking through satellite images, wondering if Tony's eyes were on her, wondering if Carrie's were too. He'd gone to Carrie for help, she knew that. It was adding insult to injury: not trusting her, not believing her, and then going to Carrie to get proof of her insubordination. Still, she just had to weather the storm. There was nothing she could do. She'd made her choice…

She hadn't believed Ali either at first. She wasn't sure when she realised he was telling the truth, but she had. She had good instincts, instincts she couldn't ignore, instincts that usually protected her country.

She'd gone to Tony with it, feeling as though there were bigger things at play here than just a terrorist's lies. Some form of conspiracy maybe? She knew a lot of people had much to gain by America going to war with the Middle East. Of course, it was entirely possible she was wrong. There might be nothing more to it than a feeling and Ali's word, but still…World War Three was at stake…and she was the only person who knew, the only person with any sort of ability to stop it, or at least try to.

It would've been easier to let it go and focus on the domestic response to the planned military action, but she felt compelled to dig. How could she stand by and let something like this unfold when there were doubts attached to it? That sort of thing wasn't what she'd signed up for. She cared about her country, but what was more she cared about other countries and the risk to them as well as her own. And so she'd pushed her point with Tony…and she'd got nowhere.

He'd been made Director and while she would lament the loss of George for a long, long time to come, she was proud of him. She couldn't tell him (maybe one day) and instead told him his kind words about George and their other colleagues had been moving, and had quietly vowed to assist him however she could in their time of crisis.

Of course, she hadn't expected him to let the promotion go to his head, or to let the pressure get to him. Washington was watching CTU LA, and it was under his control. He wanted to do well, but doing "well" wasn't the same as doing what was right, especially not when Washington was concerned. He'd shot her down, saying there was nothing more to Ali's confession. Carrie had supported Tony and the expert team who'd verified the recording, and she'd ended up looking like a fool. Looking like a fool she could handle, not being able to sleep at night because she'd allowed a war to go ahead was a different matter altogether.

At the end of her tether, she'd almost lost hope. No one would listen. No one would even entertain the idea…and then, in her desperation, she'd seen Jack. At first she'd pushed the thought aside. Tony was in charge, not Jack. It's not your place…

But it was worth trying. Wasn't anything worth trying in this situation? She wondered what sort of consequences her hunch would have for her down the track. Perhaps they'd fire her for breaking protocol, perhaps even charge her with something. Feeling as though she'd somehow pay for this later, she collected her thoughts and quietly alerted Jack to her concerns…and he'd listened.

Then, he'd received a phone call, and an instruction to take Kate Warner away from CTU and Michelle had felt validated. There was something going on here. Why else would Jack receive that call?

Then, Jack had asked for her help and her trust and she'd given it to him. She was committed to this cause, after all she was the one who'd uncovered it from Ali in the first place. She'd drawn Baker away from the Warner woman, and Jack had removed her. It had all gone to plan, except now Jack had officially gone rogue in the eyes of CTU and Michelle was under Tony's furious scrutiny.

She felt like telling him to snap out of it. Couldn't he see past all the bureaucratic shit and just listen? Couldn't he just give the idea a chance…this was a big deal, it was worth investigating.

He'd asked her about her involvement in Kate Warner's removal. She'd looked at him, sitting in his new office, with all the strain and stress of the new job upon his shoulders, and she'd lied. It had hurt her a little, lying to him. She wasn't sure how convincing she was, or if he believed her. She was fairly certain he hadn't, which hurt even more. He was aware that she'd gone over his head and then behind his back, aware that she'd given up on him and turned to Jack…but he'd forced her hand. Still, where did that leave them?

Then, he'd dismissed her, as though she was no one, just another staffer he felt nothing for, and a strange weighty sensation had trapped itself inside her chest. She could feel his trust rapidly slipping. He was turning from her, suspecting her, using the woman she despised to catch her.

Michelle allowed herself to feel a tiny measure of despair for their fast dying relationship, something that was ending before it had even begun. No, she thought sadly, don't give up on this…on us…

But he was. She was reminding him of the Myers traitor, she could see it in his eyes. But this wasn't the same thing. Myers had done all the things she had because she had blood lust. Michelle was doing this because she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she didn't.

Losing Tony's interest in her, having him turn from her…well, she could live with that. One day it would stop hurting, she was certain it would. One day she'd be able to look at him and not feel as though she'd lost something colossal.

Accessing the satellite images to get Jack out of trouble had been difficult, but she'd pulled hundreds and hoped Carrie wouldn't be able to pinpoint Jack's location. Then, she'd called him to tell him where the snipers were, hoping against hope he'd get out of there alive and get this evidence to the President.

Nearly running into Tony outside the bathroom had stunned her for a moment. So he'd come to confront her, had he?

'Always take a phone with you to the bathroom?'

She couldn't pretend she'd been in there for any other reason than to call Jack, and Tony knew it.

'Where's Jack?'

'I don't know.'

'Look, Michelle,' he said, oddly formal, 'you know we've been monitoring all the communication coming in and out of this building all day. Now, if you're breaking protocol –'

Breaking protocol? He wasn't concerned about that, she thought hatefully. He was concerned about being made to look bad. Concerned about being undermined.

'I'm not,' she said defiantly.

She avoided more of his questioning and pleaded angrily with him to call the President regarding the evidence Jack was obtaining.

'So you have talked to Jack?' he said quickly, bestowing her guilty verdict upon her.

'I didn't say that,' she said, and stepped around him to return to the bullpen.

His hand shot out like lightning to grip tightly around her elbow, keeping her there beside him. She gasped slightly at his touch, both shocking and painful, and felt her heart plummet slightly. There was disappointment in his eyes, disgust almost.

'Listen carefully Michelle,' he whispered menacingly into her ear, his breath on her neck. 'You don't work for Jack, you work for me.'

'Would you get past your ego for once –'

'Ego?' His hand tightened even harder around her arm at that. 'I've got a job to do here, you don't like the way I'm doing it, that's your problem, but if you know anything about Jack Bauer you better tell me about it right now.'

I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't. Not while you're being like this.

'I have no information,' she said robotically. 'I'm not helping Jack.'

Her eyes left his and travelled down to his hand, still furiously encircling her elbow. He finally loosened his grip and drew away, his thumb trailing her skin slightly, though perhaps she merely imagined it.

'I hope you're not lying to me.'

She was. She knew it. He knew it. And when LAPD called in the shooting at the warehouse and everything had come out in the open, he'd accepted her apology without really accepting it at all. She had been helping Jack. That was no longer secret. But there was also real evidence to be obtained and that was no longer a secret either, and Tony was slowly getting on board, slowly seeing the errors he'd made in not giving it (and her) a chance.

She was glad he was coming round, happy he was devoting resources to it and he'd even called the President, but he hadn't really forgiven her, and it was tugging at her, eating at her.

Danny's highly inappropriate visit to CTU had thrown her. He'd spotted Carrie, and everything had come crumbling down. They pulled him away, had him sedated, and Carrie was being seen to by the medic.

Michelle slunk away from the scene, feeling distraught, feeling unhinged. This was too much. A nuclear bomb. Losing so many colleagues. Paula's death, and then George's. Having to work with Carrie. Lying to Tony. Feeling him pull away from her until he was practically gone altogether. The only good thing, the only positive thing to happen in the day, the whole damn year in fact, was gathering the courage to tell him she wanted to be with him and learning that he wanted the same thing. It had sent her soaring…and now it was as though they didn't know each other, as though he'd never wanted her at all.

She went to give herself a much needed moment in an unused corridor, and heard the clack of his crutches as he came to see her. She'd tried to hide her tears, tried to keep him out, but she loved him and had just lost him and she couldn't be strong anymore. Not now, at least.

She babbled a little about Danny, about the bomb and the Cyprus recording, but they weren't the real reasons behind her emotion. The real reason was standing in front of her, watching her, listening to her. He was standing very close…almost too close in fact. He still smelt good, still warmed her…none of that had changed.

Then, he drew her toward him and she'd lost her breath. He hugged her and she felt small in his arms, and safe, and all the things she'd always imagined she would feel if he ever held her close. He said things into her ear to soothe her as the flood gates opened and she told him how scared she was. His hand splayed firmly across her spine at this, pressing her into his chest. Then he pulled away, his hands cupping her face tenderly, brushing back her askew curls as he searched out her eyes.

She shuddered slightly. He couldn't do this. He couldn't come this close, couldn't give her this teasing taste of what he felt like, couldn't show her all the things she could've had with him…

His hand was gliding across her cheek now, thumbing at her skin, and her heart was beating wildly. He was touching her. Nothing had ever felt so good. Nothing.

She looked up to find his eyes boring into hers. His hand was resting against her neck now, this thumb tracing feather light lines across the skin beneath her ear. She was trembling…and their gazes stuck. He stayed close, eyes roaming slowly over her face, dipping down to her lips and back up again.

She wanted to look away, but he demanded her gaze. He always did.

Do it, she found herself thinking. Just one kiss. One kiss to keep. That's all.

You've lost him, you've got nothing more to lose here…so do it. Kiss him.

Throwing caution to the wind and not giving a damn, she laid her hand against his roughened cheek, pressed in closer and fused her lips to his. Something insane, something crazy, crashed through her the second she did. It felt like falling and flying and dying all at once. He tasted so good. So, so good. His mouth was warm and delicious, the way it always looked to her, his lips soft, edible almost. She pawed at his face, hugging him to her, adoring the feel of his stubble beneath her fingertips. Aware that her body was tingling, that furious currents of desire and longing and sadness were jolting through her, she drew even closer, needing to meld her body against his. She was hungry for him, hungry for more, for all of him.

She nibbled again at him, and, as she did, she realised they were still in the corridor at CTU. She pulled back suddenly, knowing she needed to stop herself before this got any more out of hand…

'I'm sorry,' she choked out, meaning it in more ways than one. 'I'm sorry.'

She'd barely finished the phrase when she felt his hands on her face. He nudged her head back, tilted his own and drew her in, warm lips together once more; a perfect fit. This shocked her, confused her even, before she realised in the midst of her mingled bliss and despondency that Tony must be kissing her back…

xx