Michelle pulled the oars silently into her body and propelled herself backwards through the water. The breeze blew gently against her sweat-covered back creating a slight chill. She loved the grace and tranquility of these early morning rows - the rhythmic splashing of the oars in the water calmed her as she pushed her racing shell through the mist coming off of Alamitos Bay.

She had been a member of the women's varsity crew in college, and had been recruited in her senior year by the US National team. She won a spot on the US crew and had trained with them for only six months when she got the job at CTU. She did her best to pay sufficient attention to both her sport and her career, but each was so demanding that it was impossible to do them both at the same time. She had to choose one or the other, and the US crew went on to the Olympics without her.

Now instead of rowing as part of a crew, where every movement was meticulously timed and coordinated with those of seven other rowers, she focused on the art of the single scull - just her and the boat. The freedom and solitude it provided stood in stark contrast to her job where she was often part of the chaotic synchronization of dozens of different people and events simultaneously.

She craved the peaceful sanctuary she could only find on the water.

The quiet time alone gave her the opportunity to think - something not always possible during the rest of her day. This morning, her head swirled with preoccupation surrounding yesterday's events. "I could have been killed," she'd told Tony when she'd found out about the bomb. Although she'd been able to ignore it at work for the most part, the near miss scared the hell out of her.

As she finished her 3rd mile and turned around to head back to the dock, her thoughts turned to Tony. She had no doubt that she was falling in love with him. She had been sure of it for months, but had tried to hold her feelings in check. Only the recent reluctant admissions to each other of their true feelings and their recent surge in social contact had seemed to speed up the process.

She was equally sure that she had to give him space to work through his issues...or...issue, to put it more accurately. He cared about her. She was very certain of that now. What she wasn't sure of was what her part should be in Tony's soul-searching - or if she should have a part in it at all.

Tony hung up the phone and rubbed his throbbing head in frustration. Why does Chapelle always have to act like such a prick?

Tony hadn't had a chance to brief his boss about the phony information on the laptop yet, but somehow, Ryan knew all about it. Of course, he'd pointed out, almost gleefully, that the bomb had escaped detection until he'd suggested sending the laptop to the lab. "Goddamn, I hate it when he's right," Tony mumbled to himself.

He dialed the phone again, and Agent Jeff Simmons answered.

"Hey Jeff - it's Tony. What were you able to find out from the Gladwells' neighbors?"

"Not much yet, Tony. We have one fairly promising lead we're working on, but it's taking some time. The 80-year old lady who lives across the street doesn't seem to have a lot to do, so she occupies herself by spying on the neighbors. She says she's seen the same guy come & go from the Gladwells' about 7 or 8 times in the last week. The lady actually took down a license plate number. Anyway - turns out the guy owns a small antique shop about 3 blocks away."

Simmons went on to report that his team had set up surveillance at the shop, but the owner hadn't shown up yet. "We also did a database search on the guy and he's shown up on a couple watch lists. We'll be bringing him in for questioning as soon as he shows up for work."

Tony nodded. "All right - let me know when you pick him up, will ya?"

"You got it."

"And order his personal IRS records as well as the records for his business. Let's get accounting started on checking to see if this antique shop is legit, or if it could possibly be a front for something else."

"Check."

Well, maybe this will shut Chapelle up for a while, Tony thought.

Tony started to dial Chapelle's number to give him an update when he saw Michelle arrive. Her eyes immediately darted to his office when she walked in. They each issued a quick inconspicuous nod to each other.

Michelle got to the door just in time to hear him ending his conversation with Chapelle.

"Got a lead on the murders?" she asked.

"Possibly, Tony said, deciding to forgo discussion of Chapelle's dressing him down earlier. "Simmons will bringing a guy in for questioning later who's been seen at the Gladwell home pretty frequently in the past week or so. He's on our watch lists, so it's doubtful he was making social calls. What's up?"

"Nothing - I just wanted to see how you were."

"You mean after my mini-meltdown last night?"

Michelle laughed. "I don't think I'd go so far as to say it was a meltdown. Just a little display of emotion."

"Well, buy 'guy' standards, it was a meltdown," he said. "You were pretty quiet after we talked last night. Are you ok with things?"

"Yeah - I'm fine with it. And really Tony, I do completely understand."

"You don't think I'm being weird about the whole thing?"

She laughed again. "Weird? No. I'm actually pretty happy that you've been putting some thought into it. I mean - think about it. You were in love with the woman, and without warning, that was taken away from you in just about the cruelest way I can imagine. You didn't allow yourself to mourn that loss because that would mean acknowledging your feelings for her. And you felt guilty about that, so you've shut it out. I completely agree that you need to finally deal with it on that level before you can move on."

Tony took a moment to digest her words. "Looks like I'm not the only one who's been thinking about this, huh?"

"No. I've been thinking about it quite a bit too."

"I think you might understand the whole thing better than I do" he said, smiling at her. "You know...you're the only person I've told. That I loved her, I mean. Hell, I could barely admit it to myself, and when I think about it now, it's almost like I'm looking back on someone else's life. I'm starting to deal with it, but it's hard to think about."

Michelle shifted in her chair. "Well, that kinda brings me to something I wanted to talk about. Tony, I would do anything in my power to help you with this, but it's really up to you." She hesitated. "And honestly, I think my constant presence is a distraction for you."

Tony had no response. He didn't really like where he thought she might be going with this. "What are you thinking?"

"Well, there's a training session in D.C. that I want to attend. It's a disaster management simulator. I've been on a waiting list, and I just got word today that there's been a cancellation and I can get in."

"When?"

"Next week."

"And how long would you be gone?"

"It's a two week session."

"Two weeks," Tony repeated quietly. He hadn't gone more than a couple days without seeing her since she started at CTU. "Is this something you really want to do? I didn't know you were interested in any kind of field training."

"Yeah - I really want to do it. If I'm ever going to be anything more than an analyst, I'm going to have to start getting some field experience."

"That's true. I just didn't realize that that's the direction you wanted to go career-wise."

"So...I'll need your approval."

"Sure - of course," he said. "I'll send it in this afternoon," Tony said reluctantly. He was not at all thrilled with being an entire country away from her for 2 weeks.

Michelle sensed his apprehension. "Tony, you kinda like me, right?

He couldn't help but smile at her. "Uhh, yeah. Kinda," he understated.

She smiled back at him. "So you're thinking there's something here, right?

"Right."

"I'm thinking so too, and nothing is going to change in 2 weeks. And it'll give us both a chance to put things in perspective, ok?"

She was right, as usual. "Ok," he said.