Title: And Now for Something Completely Different...

Author: Aqua Phoenix1

Disclaimer: 24 and any people or places affiliated with it are not property of the author i.e. me. Unfortunately.

Rating: PG (Rated for a naughty words. Likely to change in following chapters)

A/N: When I sat down to write this chapter, I knew exactly what was going to happen. Exactly. And I thought I would do a pretty good job of it, too. The problem came when writing in the POV of one Stephen Saunders.

As seen on 24 as the brilliant mastermind behind the entire terrorist plot - hell, without a Stephen Saunders, Season 3 wouldn't even exist! - this man had me utterly glued to the screen. In short, he's an enigma (I'm such a sucker for enigmas! Take Agent Smith from The Matrix and Javert from Les Miserables for instance.) Apart from a few snippets of background information and some shots of him in "business mode," we don't learn much about Stephen Saunders the man. When creating his teenage character, I took what I did know about him from 24 and tried to incorporate all the typical teenage boy qualities/emotions/thoughts. This turned out to be a more challenging task then I had first imagined, although I must admit I'm happy with the results.

Another key idea I focused on was the fact that in the series, Jack describes Saunders as a good person; he doesn't understand what caused Stephen to undergo such a drastic change in his morals. So here, I've maintained Stephen's "goodness" to some degree. But that's just my thoughts. Please feel free to leave me a review and tell me what you think... and what you would like to see in this story.

On a side note, there was one particular proper noun in this chapter that was very hard for me to type. You know how some characters are just meant to be referred to in a certain way? (For any Les Mis fans out there, it'd be like calling Valjean "Jean".) Blame Nina.

So without any further ado...

Jack, slumped against the wall of some nondescript alley, gasping for air. Just the way it should be, sneered Stephen. Whatever Hector gave that deceitful son of a bitch he deserved. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. Damn his rational brain, telling him how over it he should be.

'Jack, Jack, Jack,' Hector tutted, shaking his head in false disappointment. 'How many times do I have to tell you?' For the briefest second, fear flashed in Jack's eyes as Hector stalked towards him. Despite himself, Stephen felt a pang of regret. Hector sure had some balls doing that: if Jack even remotely cared, the Mexican would be on his back by now. Stephen had experienced first hand what Jack was capable of.

'Don't. Fuck. With. Me.' Each successive word saw another kick connect with the blonde's chest. Stephen had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at the mention of his friend's favourite word. No wonder Hector couldn't get a proper girlfriend. He knew he was frowning but he couldn't control that anymore, just like he couldn't help running a hand through his hair as Jack finally groaned – the only sound Hector had ever managed to wrench from him. It was as if they had finally broken the younger boy, like he had given up at last. He heard more than saw Jack crumple up in agony as another kick from Hector sent a garbage can crashing onto the blonde, lumpy yoghurt the colour of unripe bananas splattering everywhere, painting the broken concrete.

'You like that?' the Mexican leered, kneeling so he was eye level with the other boy. Jack looked past him, his vacant gaze finding Stephen's. Trying not to think about it, the older boy shook his head once and made to leave. It was useless to try and stop Hector when he was like this. Maybe with Tony's help, but definitely not on his own. And he had no desire to see Hector go crazy on Jack two times in as many days.

As he turned, Stephen nearly collided with Nina who, he noted with a little irritation, had managed to creep up on him without him knowing it. The coy smile that played on her lips excused her lack of words as she pulled him down to get a glimpse of the show taking place behind him; he obliged and bent slightly to accommodate her smaller frame. 'You weren't meant to see this,' he took the opportunity to whisper in her ear. The feathery breath of air on his neck told him she was laughing as she replied, 'You think I don't know what you boys get up to?'

Hector cleared his throat and the two broke apart. Stephen restrained from laughing as his friend seemed to shrivel under Nina's antipathetic glare. 'What should I do with Bauer,' he asked in hushed tones, making certain his back was facing the other three people that had tagged along with Nina.

Jack, or at least what Stephen could see of him from underneath the trash, was quite the actor: he usually decided to play dead fish after Hector had messed with him for a while. It was a technique that had developed over the past year or so. The first time, Hector had help in the form of Tony and himself, but that had been a personal matter. Stephen would always maintain that Jack had had that one coming to him. That time Jack had fought back, fought like some satanic spirit had possessed him, and it was Bauer that had came off the best of the four. But the next time, Jack had lost some of his spark. By the fifth time he had resorted to reasoning, but while that may have had an affect on Stephen, there wasn't much anyone could talk Hector out of. The eighth time, Palmer had saved Jack's life. After the twelfth or thirteenth time he had stopped talking – and moving – altogether.

Since then, Stephen had found that whenever he was around Jack his usually acerbic, often witty tongue felt like a ton of bricks in his mouth. As far as he could see, he had gotten his revenge and there was no point in further tormenting the seventeen-year-old, even if he had caused him a lot of trouble – even Tony was bored with it by now. Stephen wasn't a bad person by nature and to be truthful, he could barely stand to watch anymore. Though Jack didn't have a clue. At least, for pride's sake, he hoped not.

Then again, it was amusing to watch the smaller boy pull the wool over Hector's eyes time after time.

'Any more and he'll be dead,' Stephen settled on commenting dryly, forcing himself to breathe despite the overpowering stench. 'Then you'll have to find a new playmate.'

Hector snorted, 'I get all the entertainment I need.'

Nina had brought along the usual couple, Chase and Kim, but aside from them an unfamiliar girl stood at the open end of the alley looking very lost. Stephen watched her fumbling with a bottle of water she had pulled from her backpack. 'Who's the new girl?' he questioned once he was certain she wasn't just some nobody whose name had momentarily eluded him. Nina waved the other girl over. He tried to turn his seemingly incurable frown into a smile of sorts as Nina introduced her as Kate Warner. He felt Nina's arm wrap around him as he said, 'Nice to meet you.'

'I thought Kate could come to the party tonight. It would be the perfect way for her to meet everyone here.' Nina actually didn't seem all that enthusiastic about the idea. He had an inkling that Kim had put her up to it. Kim was always like that, being too nice to people she hardly knew, inviting them along when it wasn't her call to make. In this case though, Stephen was willing to forgive her. 'Kate's from the Big Apple,' Chase informed him. 'You know, I've always wanted to go there.' Stephen gave him a warning glare, effectively putting an end to that topic of conversation. Kim shot her boyfriend – were they together again? – a questioning look but he didn't meet her eyes.

After observing Kate's private battle with the lid of her water bottle, Stephen eventually offered his assistance: 'May I?' She smiled at the unexpected proposal, clearly surprised he was even bothering with her. She seemed to have ten times more teeth than normal. And they were incredibly white too, like vanilla ice cream.

Ice cream? Stephen mentally slapped himself.

'Thanks. I've always had more success with Coke,' she tried to lighten the mood as she handed it over. If looks could kill, he was sure he would be dead by now: he could practically feel Nina's eyes eating into his head as he accepted Kate's drink. A sidelong glance revealed his girlfriend's smile was strained and she took the lapse in conversation as an opportunity to spell out their relationship with a little more detail than was required. The long-winded explanation found Stephen intensely studying a spot of electric blue graffiti on the dirty brick wall. Maybe he was losing his touch. Or maybe he just had a soft spot for blondes.

'We better get going. Got lots of stuff to plan for tonight,' Nina fished the keys out of his pocket before a sharp pinch there brought everything flooding back. Biting down on his tongue so hard that it bled, Stephen passed the now-open bottle back to Kate with deliberate slowness, her nervous gaze flicking between Nina and himself. Had he tuned out that much? No wonder Nina had managed to sneak up on him before: he was going insane. It all made perfect sense.

'Steve?' It was more of a demand, really. He knew Nina knew he hated the abbreviation. The pet name she had whipped up for him the night she drank one too many Bicardis, got into an argument with him and ended up at Jack's place. That thought out Stephen back in a foul mood. He silently began the walk to his car. Behind him, he heard Kate mention his and Jack's names, and Chase's wise reply of, 'Don't get involved in something you can't understand.'

Jack wasn't sure if he believed in God but he was praying to Him nonetheless. Praying that Nina hadn't seen him buried beneath that mountain of garbage, chewing on used bubblegum and yesterday's dinner. Damn the Salazars, Jack cursed as he threw his tennis ball at the wall, watching the cloud of plaster and dust appear upon impact, crumbling to the floor. His body felt like it was anchored to the bed as he reclaimed the worn thing; his feet were so heavy he wondered if he'd ever walk again, yet he knew the answer. Maybe it was the knowing that made him feel this way, like a cocktail of emotions.

Jack picked a stray piece of banana peel from his hair before turning to stare out the window. Through the dirty glass, the usual beauty of the stars was hazy, distorted. If there was anything to be happy about, it was that Salazar would be graduating at the end of the year. The thought wasn't as uplifting as Jack had hoped it would be; it only reminded him that he should be graduating also instead of being stuck in Year 11 thanks to events beyond his control. But Jack could never hate Teri. Not even if that meant being Salazar's lapdog for the rest of his life.

Realising he would never be able to see anything clearly through that window, Jack contented himself with flopping back onto his bed. It squeaked in noisy protest, hard springs digging into his back through the pancake- thin mattress. He probably should take a shower but it wasn't like he had any special plans.

He would have stayed like that for the rest of the night if his phone hadn't rang. His phone? Jack couldn't believe his ears. Lazily turning his head to the side revealed that it definitely was his mobile. For a while he remained staring at the thing as if it was a sheep with two heads. It continued to belt out Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer from its place at his bedside table. Who'd be calling him at this hour? Heck, who'd be calling him at any hour! Curiosity getting the better of him, Jack took a deep breath than seized the phone, knocking over his alarm clock in the process, and accepted the call, 'Hello?'

'Jack?' His clock screamed mercilessly. Jack blindly kicked it off, grasping the phone tighter as if that would help him hear the voice on the other end.

'Jack, is that you?'

He knew who it was the moment she opened her big mouth but he still couldn't believe it. At the sound of her voice, Jack sat up a little too quickly and had to wait for the blood to stop pounding in his temples. 'Sherry, how'd you get my number?' he eventually asked, picturing the dark- skinned woman raising a skinny eyebrow in response.

'What do you think, Jack?' When he didn't say anything, her sigh travelled through the phone line as she elaborated, 'You were friends with Stephen once, remember?'

Jack went rigid at the sound of Saunders' name. He wouldn't be surprised if the guy had burned his phone number along with anything else affiliated with him, but in this case he was willing to vouch Sherry had found it on her own. He felt like hanging up. What he said was, 'You've done nothing but ask questions the moment I answered. It's time you told me what this is about.'

Seemingly unperturbed by the bite in his rough voice, Sherry continued. 'It's about Chloe. She's after a date for the party tonight.'

'And I was the best candidate?' Jack asked, incredulous. Even though Chloe was not the kind of person you wanted to be seen in public with, Jack was sure this had to be a different kind of trick. 'Sherry, I think you've gotten rusty in your old age,' he half-laughed, not afraid to let her know how much he understood about her seemingly innocent request. That woman was always up to something and if Jack didn't know better, this time she just wanted to see a good fight. What she'd get would be more like an execution: Saunders would kill him if he showed up at his party.

'You know what'll happen if I go,' he told her, deadpan, as he leant over to turn on the radio.

'Hector knows about it. Do you think he'd do anything to disappoint me?' Sherry's voice crackled. Jack digested this information as he adjusted the volume before collapsing back onto his bed. When he was certain it was safe he asked, 'And Saunders?'

'He wouldn't want to mess up his own party. Jack, Chloe's desperate.' The last part was a plead, the offensive of it barely registering in his mind. 'Nina'll be there,' she added teasingly, although it was hard to tell if she was mocking him or the other girl.

Jack was still trying to make a decision when he heard the front door slam and the sounds of his stepfather stumbling inside. The slurred voice yelled something undecipherable as what Jack imagined was his mother's favourite vase smashed onto the poorly tiled floor. The radio hummed softly in the background.

'What time?'

'Nine. Need a ride?'

Disregarding the fact that he was signing his own death warrant, Jack supplied her with the answer she wanted to hear, '...Yeah.'

'Great. I'll pick you up in ten.' The phone clicked off before Jack could negotiate a more suitable time. He picked up the alarm clock from where he had booted it halfway across the room and nearly had a cardiac arrest when he saw the readout: 8:27.

'Damn...' he muttered before going to take that shower.

Kate felt completely out of place. Her first mistake had been agreeing to come to this party in the first place – she had no idea why but every time she turned around she'd find that Nina woman staring daggers at her. And there weren't many names she could put to faces either, though she supposed that was to be expected. Kate had always been a bit on the shy side. Now that she had left the security of her friends behind in NYC, she felt more vulnerable than ever.

Her second mistake had been wearing a strapless dress. She felt like she was hitching it up every second or two and nearly every guy she talked to wound up staring lecherously at her chest. Not that there was much to stare at, Kate thought bitterly. Even at age seventeen she had the appearance of a twelve-year-old who had just started growing hair in funny places. At least, that's how Kate felt. If there was anything good about moving houses, it was that she had left behind those bitchy girls from her tennis club. If she was going to live here, she might as well make the best of it, Kate resolved as she scooted to the other side of the couch so as to be closer to the inviting warmth of the fireplace. Hopefully, once this party really got going it would warm up a bit. This house – Stephen's house, she corrected – was incredibly large, much bigger than the cramped apartment she had called home her entire life. Back in New York.

She watched with mild interest as a group of badly dressed guys carted in what looked to be slabs of beer and God-knew what else, while Stephen exchanged words with a particularly shady character. He was at least a head shorter than Kate's new friend but the impressive words he kept spouting in his snobby British accent made her giggle. When he turned his eyes on her, Kate quickly swallowed her amusement and became absorbed in a painting on a crimson wall.

The pair began approaching – had they seen? – and the blonde now knew for certain that this had been a bad idea. She was just wondering what the most convincing moment would be for her to look up, surprised at the unexpected company, and smile when both men seated themselves on the couch opposite her.

'...just as long as I get my money,' Snobby was finishing, an air of arrogance about him. Stephen looked as if he was chewing on a lemon as he replied, 'You'll get your money when my guest are satisfied with the products.'

They seemed to exchange silent words as they both turned their eyes on Kate. Snobby's became thin slits as he studied her across the coffee table, then glanced back at the dark-headed man beside him, eyebrows arched in what Kate took to be as a "What is she doing here?" expression. As if on cue, Hector chose that moment to break in. He was halfway between power- walking and jogging as he made his approach. When he was close enough, Kate saw his face was strained and his mouth was set in a deep frown. He stopped in front of the other males like he was waiting for permission to speak.

'What is it, man?' though Stephen snapped, gratefulness shone in his eyes; he obviously wasn't willing to explain Kate's presence. Hector scratched at an old scar on his neck in what Kate took to be a nervous gesture before deciding to take the plunge. 'Amador, one of your goons has made off with the truck.'

'Is the product unloaded?' Stephen didn't miss a beat. If possible, Hector looked even more worried as he gave a muttered, 'No,' and took off before he had to suffer the joint agitation of Saunders and Amador, who were now locked in some kind of staring competition. Eventually, Stephen blinked but it was Snobby who looked away.

'This is your mess, Michael. Fix it.' He had an odd sort of stiffness in his step as he walked away but Kate supposed she'd also be upset if some business deal of hers went loopy. She tried unsuccessfully to ignore the pathetic figure of Snobby – Michael Amador – who had pulled out a mobile and was dialling numbers furiously as if his life depended on it. He was so adept at it that Kate couldn't tell when one conversation finished and the next began. Just listening to him made her feel dizzy. Sighing, the girl checked her watch, 9:04, then, with a little more enthusiasm, leapt up to see if she could find herself something to drink.

Nina saw the way he looked at her, and more infuriatingly, the way she looked at him. From the moment she had met her, Nina had knew Kate Warner was going to cause problems. The girl from NYC had achieved the difficult task of being tall and skinny but without looking bony or awkward in her teenage body, and she had the curves in all the right places. Her hair was perfect too: golden locks framing her delicate face, making her startling blue eyes all the more apparent. After what she and Sherry had organised, Kate Warner would be out of LA by the morning. That was granted Sherry had held up her end of the bargain. Nina smiled to herself before downing another glass of champagne. The fruity taste was nice but it was no where near hard enough, Nina concluded. Leaving her glass with Tony, she went searching for some brandy.

When Nina arrived at the kitchen she found Kate rummaging through the cupboards as if she owned the place. If she had heard Nina approach, she made no sign and for a moment Nina was tempted to push that pretty little head of Kate's down the incinerator. Instead, she murmured a single word: 'Lost?'

Kate, who had been kneeling to stick her head into a cupboard, abruptly sprung up, panic-stricken face quickly rearranging itself into something resembling enjoyment. 'Oh. I was just looking for a drink...' she said. Any softer and it would have been a whisper.

Did you try the fridge? Nina felt like scoffing as she repressed a disgusted snort. 'What takes you fancy?' she asked, at the same time questioning whether Kate had ever seen an alcoholic beverage in her life.

'Um, water will be fine,' the slightly taller girl confirmed her suspicion. 'I'll fix you something nice,' Nina offered, sparing the blonde some embarrassment – there was plenty of that to come anyway. She delved into the refrigerator and pulled out a couple of large bottles, wondering what to mix with what. When she shut the fridge door, Nina noticed a pamphlet depicting various cocktails was pinned on it. Smiling to herself, Nina plucked it off and began scouring the book for the most alcoholic drink it had to offer.

She'd have some fun tonight.