Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the reviews! I'm sorry this chapter was so long in the making. Actually, I have 24 to blame for that…I've been re-watching season 4 pretty much nonstop since I got it, and when I'm not doing that I'm reading other people's 24 fanfiction. On the bright side of all this, I'm getting lots of good ideas! Oh, and this fic will be non-s5 compatible...as in, Michelle doesn't die. Stupid writers. Can't believe they did that.

The character of Pax in this chapter is based on my good friend/ roommate/ sometimes beta, Erin. Unfortunately for us, she is not yet a 24 fanatic, but I'm working on converting her. I also promise that there will be much more dialogue in this and future chapters…I've been really bad about that so far.

Please review! All feedback is good, even if it's to tell me that I should drop the English major before I hurt someone. :) Thanks!

Bonus! Special Guest appearance by the Cubs Mug!

I'll see you tomorrow.

What the hell was that supposed to mean!

Outwardly as collected as ever, but seething with frustration inside, Michelle descended from Tony's office to the bullpen. As she made her way across the room and through the maze of hallways leading to the parking garage, she wondered if men had been put on earth for any reasons that didn't result in exasperating women. She was at that stage in a budding relationship where she, along with all of her girlfriends, invariably spent nearly all her conscious hours analyzing, reanalyzing, and debating with her various "selves" (pragmatic vs. romantic, responsible vs. dreamy, respectable vs. ohmygodiwannajumpyourbonesrightNOW) the meaning behind every word, look, and touch that she had so far exchanged with the poor, unsuspecting fellow in question.

After today, there were a LOT of things to consider: her embarrassing confession, his reaction, his reassurances to her, that Kiss (Michelle would always think of that Kiss as having a capital "k"), Tony's reaction to it, and his parting words to her.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Michelle couldn't figure it out. It was just such a guy thing to say…totally ambiguous, but with just enough wiggle room that she could easily interject hundreds of ulterior meanings into the phrase.

The security guard on duty, Hannah Scott, was an acquaintance of Michelle's. She smiled as Michelle dug through her purse to find her ID card. "I bet you're glad to be leaving for the day," she said pleasantly.

"Am I ever!" Michelle agreed with exaggerated relief. "I think it's safe to say that this has been the worst day of my life, and I can't imagine anything happening in the future that would overshadow it."

"Really?" Hannah asked. "I would have thought that you would remember at least some of today fondly."

Michelle looked up at the emphasized "you" and frowned at Hannah. "What do you mean?"

The guard grinned cheekily but had the grace to blush a little beneath her carrot-red hair. "Oh, I think you know what I mean."

"Hannah…" Michelle brandished her ID in a vaguely threatening manner.

"Oh, you should see your face. You are positively panicking, I can tell." She plucked the card out of Michelle's hand and swiped it through the reader next to the door. Michelle glared and punched in her code. "There's no point getting upset about it. Everybody already knows."

"Everybody knows what, Hannah? C'mon!" Michelle pleaded from the doorway. "Just tell me! I can only hold this door open for a few seconds before the alarm goes off!"

"All I'm going to say is that I'm jealous. We're all jealous."

"All who?"

"Every female in this building, of course. Shut the door."

"Hannah!"

"Shut the door, Michelle. Go home and dream about sucking face with Agent Almeida some more."

Michelle blanched. Hannah burst out laughing and shoved the door closed.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod…Michelle threw her purse on the kitchen table and grabbed the phone. Please be home, she prayed, kicking off her shoes before starting to pace.

"Michelle?" A sleepy voice answered after the fourth ring.

"You are not going to believe this, Pax. You are NOT going to BELIEVE this."

"Believe what?" Pax asked, sounding more awake. Michelle, she knew, was aware that Pax was NOT a morning person. Only a true emergency would have prompted her to call before noon.

"Well, it was after the bomb. I was really--"

"What! What bomb! There was a bomb!"

"Jesus, Pax, don't you watch the news? There was a bomb at CTU. I'm ok, but this is more important—"

"More important than a bomb! Your priorities are screwed up, 'Chelle."

"MY priorities are screwed up? I'm not the one who stayed up until six in the morning five nights a week in college."

"I kept a 3.5, didn't I? I graduated, didn't I? I make more than you, don't I?"

Michelle sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Carefully cradling the phone between her head and shoulder, she began changing into an old baggy T-shirt and shorts. "Anyway…"

"Hey, I'm not the one who deviated from the subject."

"Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not! Now are you going to tell me what's up, or do I need to come over there?"

Michelle paused for a second. "I kissed him."

"Kissed who?" Pax asked eagerly. Michelle didn't answer, prompting her friend to shriek in delight. "The hot agent guy? Your boss? You kissed him! Oh my god, Michelle, you slut!"

"Oh, it gets better. Before I kissed him, I asked him out." Pax's gleeful cheering would not have been rivaled by a Superbowl crowd after an overtime Hail Mary win by the underdog, Michelle thought glumly. When the screaming died down she managed to relay the entire day's story despite an incessant barrage of questions.

"So how was this kiss, anyway?" Pax asked once she had a grip on the basics of the situation.

"Oh, god, it was amazing! It was like…I don't know. All those cheesy things you read in romance novels, like shooting stars and fireworks and your knees going weak. Like the best kiss you've ever had times about a thousand, I guess."

"Tongue?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Above the waist touching?"

"No," Michelle said regretfully. "We were in the middle of a hallway, so that was really out. Although if we would have gone on much longer I'm not sure…"

"Mmmhmm. And this guy is hot, yeah? Not like that weirdo you crushed on in high school, right? The skinny blonde one?"

"Phil? Oh, god, no. Polar opposites. Tony's all dark and brooding and sultry."

"Ooh! Ooh! If he was a dessert, what would he be? I think Kevin would be a chocolate chip cookie…good, but pretty boring once you've had a couple." Kevin was Pax's latest in a long string of ex-boyfriends.

"Ooh, good one, lemme think." Michelle sank down onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. "I've got it! But just to give you some comparisons…I'd say that Phil was a vanilla cake and Barry- well, he'd have to be apple pie." Barry had been Michelle's steadiest boyfriend through college, a steady, dependable sort. The kind of guy you wake up one morning and realize is more of a brother than a lover.

"Yeah, ok, so what's Tony?"

"Chocolate fudge cake with caramel frosting."

Pax groaned orgasmically.

"With ice cream!"

"Michelle, you're killing me, here! When can I meet this guy? Preferably before you marry him, but I'll understand if that's, like, this weekend and I can't clear my schedule fast enough."

Michelle giggled, but Pax's question brought her back to the reason for her call. "That's the problem, Pax. I don't know if he really even wants anything more to do with me. I mean, he said he did, but we were both pretty stressed at the time, and when I left today he just said 'I'll see you tomorrow.'"

"'I'll see you tomorrow?' Hmm. Toughie. How did he say it?"

"Well, I was walking out of his office and he called my name, so I turned back around. Then he paused for a minute like he was trying to think of something to say and just came up with 'I'll see you tomorrow.' But then he smiled! Pax, this guy never smiles at work. Ever. Well, he used to smile sardonically at Mason and Chappelle, but this smile was…oh, god. Almost better than the kiss."

"Then I think he's definitely into you."

"Really? You think? I'm not just reading too much into it?"

"Absolutely. Well, either that or he just thinks you're easy and knows he can get laid."

"He could, too."

Pax grinned and finally opened her blinds to let some light into her bedroom. She was utterly thrilled that her serious, uptight friend was finally getting flustered by a worthy man. Michelle had always been reserved, especially romantically, and whenever she had dared not to be it seemed like she ended up disappointed in whatever guy she'd been attracted to. But Pax, who had known her since grade school, had never ever seen Michelle this worked up by a guy. Not even close. Pax also knew that her friend hadn't slept with very many men, and when she did she waited until they were at least a month into a relationship, so the fact that Michelle was quite frankly offering herself up for this Tony guy's use was extremely revealing.

"Well, I think you should call him."

"What! No. Absolutely not. I've put myself on the line more than enough. Now it's his turn."

"You wuss."

"Yes," Michelle said curtly, "I am. But if he's really interested, he'll make the next move."

"You're probably right," Pax sighed. "I just want you to get the ball rolling so you can call me with juicier stories! I need all the inspiration I can get, you know." She was a writer- and quite a successful one, at that. Her self-dubbed "trashy romance novels," which paid the bills, were consistently best sellers, and her more literary works, published under a different name, had received critical acclaim.

"Pax, I forbid you to use this in a book!"

"Oh, come on! It'd be such a great plot- the successful career woman is floored by her gorgeous boss, and after months of hiding her feelings finds comfort in his arms during a national crisis. Of course, my characters would take over one of your little holding rooms and have a steamy rendezvous instead of a little kiss in the hallway."

Michelle rolled her eyes. "They have cameras and microphones in those, you know."

"Like that would stop you!"

Their conversation continued in this vein for some time. When she finally said goodbye and hung up, Michelle felt infinitely better. A little "girl talk," she thought, was just what she had needed. Unfortunately, without Pax to distract her, she was left to dwell on Hannah's revelation: that everyone at CTU knew about the Kiss.

About the time Michelle was drifting off to sleep, Tony was finishing up the massive amounts of paperwork the day had required. Signing the last one with a flourish- his signature had gotten progressively sloppier as the day had progressed- he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face. God, he was tired. He felt as if every bit of energy had been sucked out of his body and replaced with lead. Then he looked out the window, down to Michelle's station, and felt a little thrill of adrenaline. Some night-shift (well, day shift at the moment) guy- what was his name? Mark?- was sitting there. That meant Michelle was at home. Probably sleeping.

In a bed. Wearing some kind of girly nightgown…no, Tony corrected himself, he couldn't see Michelle in a proper nightgown. She'd have some kind of businesslike pajamas and matching robe. And under them she'd have perfectly prim underwear, with coordinating bra.

He shivered. But then, maybe not. Maybe she wore black lace and a thong.

Definitely time to go home, Almeida, Tony thought. He'd been fantasizing about Michelle for months, now, but he'd always felt a little guilty about it. Like he was invading her privacy or something. Now, however, after she had admitted feelings for him and they'd kissed- Kissed!- his imagination apparently thought it had been given carte blanche as far as daydreaming about her went.

Tony stood and took a deep breath. It was time to go home and sleep, before he did something dumb. Like calling Michelle and waking her up to ask her out. Or worse, showing up at her apartment for the same purpose. He grabbed his jacket, crutches, and coffee mug and headed out the door.

He stopped off in the coffee room to rinse out the mug before carefully drying it off and placing it on its shelf. The mug was something of a celebrity item around CTU, ever since the time Milo, freelancing for a day to fill in for Jamey and Nina, had "borrowed" it. Tony, after a brief but intense panic attack, had relentlessly grilled every employee in the building until he tracked his mug down. He had then proceeded to lecture Milo, loudly, for a full three minutes on respecting other people's property. Milo (as well as everyone else he had glared at in the course of his search) had given him a wide berth for days afterward.

Giving the mug a last infinitesimal adjustment, Tony limped his way out of the room and out of CTU.