Simmons' voice crackled over the intercom on Tony's desk. "The suspect is here, Tony. We've got him in the interrogation room."

"Thanks, Jeff. I'll be down in a minute."

With any luck, the suspect would be be cooperative, and they could put this case to rest in short order. Tony bounced down the stairs and asked Michelle to join him in the observation room. If she wanted to broaden her career horizons, she should probably start sitting in on things like this. She'd done a great job getting the truth out of Sayed Ali, and although he'd never say this to Michelle, Carrie had been right. She didn't really have a lot of this type of experience.

The interrogation was almost over by the time Tony & Michelle got there. Marcus Blake, the petrified antique shop owner was reluctantly giving up information.

"Jeff," Tony said into Simmons' earpiece, "Ask him about the warehouse."

The IRS reports had proven that the business was legitimate. The only problem was that when Tony sent a team over to check out what was supposed to be a warehouse full of inventory, they'd found something entirely different.

Simmons turned to his detainee. "Tell me about the warehouse space on 14th street."

The blood drained from the man's face. "The warehouse...yeah. I figured you'd get to that. For the past year I've had that space on my books as a place to store inventory. But there's no inventory there. I don't know what's there. I was paid to rent it and forget it."

"Who paid you?"

"I never knew the guy's name. I was paid in cash."

Simmons leaned into Blake's face. "Listen, Blake...this has been pretty easy for you so far, but make no mistake. I'm not someone you want to fuck with. Tell me the name, or things are going to get real ugly real fast."

"Please...he'll kill me..."

"And I'll make you beg to be killed..."

Michelle watched and wondered if she could ever convincingly say something like that to someone she was interrogating. She didn't exactly convey a threatening presence.

Before long, Simmons had the name - Hamzeh Matar - and Mr. Blake was in the CTU medical clinic. Michelle was beginning to re-evaluate her career path. She knew of the methods used to extract information from people, but had never actually seen it before. It was something she wasn't sure she could ever take part in.

Tony hadn't said a word to her during or after their observation. He wanted to give her time to process what she'd seen. Part of him wanted her to realize that the darker side of their job was something she wanted no part of. Of course, he'd support her if she made the opposite decision, but just the same...he would much rather she decide not to go there.

As Michelle left CTU for the day, she tried to put the interrogation out of her mind. It was disturbing, and she'd known it would be, but still had been unprepared for the reality of it. Forcing her mind in a different direction, she let herself get excited about the evening ahead. Tony was still at work, but they'd planned dinner later. Out. At a restaurant. So there'd be no temptation to do things they weren't ready for. As if the location would make a difference. She was tempted any time he was within her sight range. But at least in public, there was extra incentive to keep her hands to herself.

Later, as she drove over to Tony's she made the conscious decision that she didn't want to talk about what had happend at work. Not yet, anyway. Tonight, just keep it light. She told herself. Don't let him know you're slightly freaked out about it.

She was relieved when Tony opened the door with a huge grin on his face. He didn't seem to be in a heavy mood, and that suited her just fine.

"Hi!" he practically yelled while grabbing her hand and pulling her inside.

"Hi!" she giggled as she stumbled into the house.

"You're in an exceptionally good mood," she observed.

"Ohhh...being around you always puts me in a good mood," he grinned.

He leaned toward her and gave her a quick, chaste peck on the lips. Not quick and chaste enough to prevent sending what seemed like electric shocks through Michelle's entire body.

"Come on in," he said," pulling her toward the living room, "I have something for you. And by the way, I'll be driving tonight."

"Oh come on, Tony - I was just kidding about Celine Dion. I don't really blast her in the car..."

"No - it's not about Celine, although...you have no idea how relieved I am to hear that." He picked up a package from the coffee table and handed it to her. "Here. Open it."

Wide-eyed, she took it from him. "A present! For me? What is it?"

"Well, you won't know until you open it, will you?"

She wasted no time ripping the package open and pulling out the contents. "It's...a motorcycle helmet..." she said with barely convincing enthusiasm. "Am I going for a ride on a motorcycle?"

"Uh huh," he said, taking her hand again and leading her to the garage. "Are you game?"

"Tony," she began apprehensively, "I've never been on a motorcycle before. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer the comfort of a nice leather bucket seat...like I have in my car?"

"Trust me, sweetheart, this seat is very comfortable. Put the helmet on! Let's go!"

His enthusiasm was so adorable, Michelle couldn't help but comply, even though she wasn't at all sure this was a good idea. She ignored the visions of her flying off the seat backwards when they'd hit a bump. Tony instructed her where to put her feet and how to lean into the turns when he did. Then he got on the bike and turned to help her on behind him.

Her reservations began to dissipate and were replaced by something altogether different once she climbed onto the seat and had Tony situated between her legs. Well, this was certainly unexpected, she thought. As the bike began to move, she instinctively wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. Oh...motorcycles are very cool...

Arriving at the restaurant in one piece, Michelle couldn't disguise her enthusiasm. "Tony - that was so much fun!"

"I'm glad you liked it," he said, pulling her chair out for her. "I don't take the bike out as much as I used to and I just thought it'd be a nice change. And...protection from Celine."

Michelle intuitively knew that he'd also done it to keep her mind off the day's events at CTU.

Michelle watched Tony take a giant bite of his burger as she nibbled at her salad.

"MMMMmmm...best burger ever..."

She laughed. "Hey - did I ever tell you about my one amazing food talent?" she asked.

"Uhh..I know you don't like to cook...what is your amazing food talent?"

Reaching across the table and taking a french fry from his plate, she said, "I can taste a french fry and tell you what kind of potato it came from."

Tony paused mid-bite. "You can not."

"Oh, but I can," she said popping the french fry into her mouth and reaching for another. "Hmm...these are seasoned, so it could be a little tricky," she said chewing and reaching for another...

"It's kinda complicated. Russets and red-skinned potatoes are pretty similar," she said as she took a handful of fries from his plate. "They can be hard to distinguish."

"Uhhh...Michelle.."

"And Yukon Gold potatoes have a texture very similar to your Yellow Fin potatoes," she said taking a few more from his plate.

"Michelle..."

"And some of the more exotic varieties, like your Bintje potatoes have a little spicy bite to them..."

"Michelle, you can't tell what kind of potatoes these were made from, can you?"

"Nope."

"You're just eating my fries, aren't you?"

"Pretty much," she said reaching for another.

Tony laughed. "Very cute..."

"Thats one of the things I like most about you, Almeida. You're always sharing your food with me."

"Yeah - I'm very generous like that."