Thanks for the reviews- this has sort of got some fluffiness in it, although not the type you want. Sorry for upsetting you.

OK- so I thought I'd try something different for this chapter. Please don't shoot me for this. And let me know what you think

Greg is the new director of CTU.

And yes- I do this just to torture you

Michelle's fingernails rapped lightly against the black desk that had once been her husbands. The thing she hated most about this place, even more than the fact that it was the reason he was gone, was the fact that everyone and everything here had memories of him tied to them.

Greg watched her, unsure of quite how to proceed. He had her job, they both knew it, and he was never quite comfortable with her. She was the more competent of the two of them, and the staff relied wholly on her. He wasn't sure why he had been given this position. She should have had it, and despite his efforts to speak to her about it, she remained distant from him.

He hadn't understood why until earlier this morning, he guessed he should have read her profile more carefully, but he had been so annoyed about being forced here that he hadn't bothered. Now she stood in front of him, eyes very careful not to focus on any one point of the office that had once been her husband's, with a faint look of annoyance on her face.

Uncertain of the best way to broach the subject, his voice faltered as he tried. "Michelle, I'm sorry...I didn't realise." Empty words, they meant nothing, and he didn't know how to convey to her that he really was sorry.

She didn't understand what he was talking about, or rather she did, but didn't want to believe that he would have called her in to discuss this, so her eyes remained blank as she stared at nothing in particular.

He sighed, she wasn't going to make this easy. "I found this in the drawer today. I didn't realise that he was your..." He trailed off as her fingers lightly traced the wedding band that somehow she hadn't managed to take off yet. He handed her the photo.

Surprise bit into her, she thought she was immune to feeling like this, but she still had to remind herself to breathe as her fingers wrapped themselves around the photo. They had agreed to keep things like this out of the office, she wasn't sure why, he just felt that it would be better. She'd just said yes, too tired of arguing with him to disagree. But there it was, and looking at it she could still feel his fingers clasping her tightly as the cold sent shivers through her that the ridiculously inappropriate wedding dress was unable to prevent.

Her eyes met with his, filled with emotion as the wall she didn't realise she'd built crumbled just slightly. "How long has it been," she motioned to his ring and he understood what she was getting at. She had obviously done her research a lot more thoroughly than he had.
Seeing pain in his eyes, Michelle blundered on, her eyes dancing wildly as she fought to maintain her composure. "I'm sorry. I know it's hardly the same...it's just..." She knew what it was, just as well as he did.

He'd read Tony's file, he just didn't realise that Michelle was his wife. Their names were different, and he'd presumed that whoever it was wouldn't have wanted to stay in the office that had pronounced her husband as a traitor. He figured that they would have run, and looking at Michelle now, he could understand the coldness and distance she surrounded herself with. She really was as strong as she seemed, if not stronger. Once again he wondered at that, finding himself in complete awe her.

Somehow, he found the strength to answer her. "He's looking at 20 years minimum right?" Michelle nodded, feeling sick. Her husband was going to spend the rest of his life in prison because of her, and she'd just asked him for a divorce.

"Then it is the same thing." He looked at her, knowing that it was in fact worse than the fate that had befallen his wife. Although he could no longer see her, at least he knew that nothing could ever hurt her again, that she was safe from the pain that was tearing at Michelle. He swallowed, surprised at the wetness he felt growing in his eyes. "Three years..." Fingers automatically went to his wedding ring, he ought to have taken it off by now, just hadn't been able to. He didn't want to let go, didn't want to move on.

Guilt consumed Michelle. She couldn't do anything right. Seeing Greg's pain for his dead wife was horrible, she'd done that to him. And the stupid thing was that she thought this might help, that she might understand herself better. All she had done was make things worse. Tony was still locked beyond her reach, she'd still abandoned him, and now she'd forced this man to relive his pain just so she could justify her own decisions.

Tears formed in her eyes, but she refused to let them spill, not here. Nevertheless, Greg caught her pain, and more out of a sense of duty than desire, he pressed her small frame against hers, taking reassurance from her resistance.

Somehow his fingers caught in her hair, catching him in memories. "You hair," he murmured, gently working his fingers out of the curls they were caught in, "It's the same as hers." He was lost for a moment in the soft warmth that reminded him so much of his wife. Then he caught her eyes, thick with fear. Quickly backing off and uttering apologies, he sat himself back down in the seat that had once been Tony's.

She smiled at him, he'd not seen her smile before and it was dazzling. "It's easy to get lost in memories." Too easy. Muttering something unintelligible she disappeared out of the door.