Notes: I don't live in LA and have no desire to go there, so the section of town they're in is completely fabricated. I hope no one minds. Thank you for all the reviews! Oh, and I don't own Casablanca. I mean, I have a copy of it, but…oh, never mind. You all know what I mean.
Oh, and please forgive my blatant foreshadowing ;)
"You up for a movie? Or are you too tired?"
"I'm always up for a movie," Michelle answered. "I'm something of a film junkie, actually."
"Great, then you're gonna love this," Tony said somewhat smugly. They were in his car driving somewhere. Michelle wasn't paying very much attention; she was much more interested in sneaking covert glances at Tony than watching street signs.
"You sound awfully sure of yourself. What are we going to see?" Having dinner together seemed to have broken what ice was left between them. Michelle was finally feeling relaxed enough to tease Tony- and it was not lost on her that the two glasses of wine she'd had were probably partially responsible.
"Yeah, I read somewhere that women find that attractive," Tony said as he turned down Castille Street. Michelle saw that they were in one of the city's "old town" sections. Boutiques, small galleries, and family-owned restaurants lined a street that was artfully dotted with nineteenth-century lampposts and fenced trees.
"What? The secret's out? Oh, no!" Michelle cried melodramatically. "So, what are we seeing?" she asked again.
"Don't you like surprises?"
"Only when they turn out well. I've had more than a few that didn't, and they taught me to be wary."
"Well, I'm positive you'll like this one. And, you know, if you don't, I'm gonna lose all respect for you as a person, so…"
Michelle giggled. "No pressure, huh?"
Tony grinned and parked the car in a lot just off Castille. He got out and, once again, magically appeared on the passenger side before Michelle could open her own door. Gently, he took her elbow and led her away from the car. "Okay, now comes the fun part…close your eyes."
She raised her eyebrows. "You know, this parking lot is pretty dark. I'm not sure I trust you, sir. Are you going to be a gentleman?"
"Do you want me to be?" The look in Tony's eyes, Michelle thought, was positively sinful. She blushed, making a mental note to guard against future unwitting double entendres, and decided to bluff her way out.
"Now how am I supposed to answer that? Damned if I do, damned if I don't!"
"Oh, c'mon! I just don't want you to see the marquee before we get into the theater. Just close your eyes and I'll lead you there."
Michelle studied him for a minute, fighting back a smile. Feigning reluctance, she closed her eyes. "If I trip over or run into anything, I'll…well, I don't know what I'll do, but you won't like it!"
"I'm quaking in my ankle brace, really."
A few blocks of snappy dialogue later, Tony led her indoors, bought two tickets to an unnamed show, and sat her down in a plush velvet seat. Mostly relieved that they had arrived without mishap, a part of Michelle was nonetheless a little disappointed the trip was over. It had been an unexpectedly sensuous experience- without her eyes, her senses of touch, smell, and hearing seemed to have heightened, and Tony's close proximity had been thrilling. On some more primitive level, as well, she had secretly found being so dependent (temporarily) on him just a little arousing.
Not that she'd ever admit it. Under duress or for any amount of money.
"Okay, you can open your eyes now."
She did so and found that they were sitting in a small darkened theater. Red velvet chairs with gold studs, red draperies on either side of the screen, and carved wooden moldings lent an air of classic opulence to the place. The screen in front of them was running local ads for orthodontists, real estate agents, and the like. Three or four elderly couples dispersed throughout the seats were the only other people in the room. Almost as soon as Michelle took all this in, the lights dimmed further and the sound increased. There were no previews, but a black and white map appeared on the screen amidst familiar crashing chords. Michelle's heart rate picked up. Could it be…?
It was. "Casablanca!" she whispered feverishly, sitting up straighter. "Oh my god, Tony, this is one of my favorite movies of all time! This is amazing!" Elated, she did something utterly uncharacteristic: she leaned over and kissed Tony briefly on the lips. "Thank you," she said, and turned back to the movie.
Tony had done a lot of so-called heroic things in his life, most of which he would argue the significance of, but the expression on Michelle's face made this one surprise, such a small thing, top them all. She looked at him, he thought, like he was the only man in the world. Like he'd just bought her a diamond necklace or professed his undying love for her in front of everyone they knew.
In a way, he thought, he had. But he wasn't ready to think about that now.
So he put his arm over her shoulders, reveled in the feel of her head leaning into his shoulder, and settled back to watch Humphrey Bogart play the noblest man in history.
Rick: Last night we said a great many things. You said I was to do the thinking for both of us. Well, I've done a lot of it since then, and it all adds up to one thing: you're getting on that plane with Victor where you belong.
Ilsa: But, Richard, no, I... I...
Rick: Now, you've got to listen to me! You have any idea what you'd have to look forward to if you stayed here? Nine chances out of ten, we'd both wind up in a concentration camp. Isn't that true, Louie?
Captain Renault: I'm afraid Major Strasser would insist.
Ilsa: You're saying this only to make me go.
Rick: I'm saying it because it's true. Inside of us, we both know you belong with Victor. You're part of his work, the thing that keeps him going. If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.
Ilsa: But what about us?
Rick: We'll always have Paris. We didn't have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.
Ilsa: When I said I would never leave you.
Rick: And you never will. But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Now, now... Here's looking at you kid.
"I love that movie," Michelle said later in the car as he drove back to her apartment, "but I just don't understand the ending."
"What do you mean?" Tony asked, remembering the three tears that had glistened on her face as they'd exited the theater.
"I mean, why did he send her away? He loved her; she loved him. He should have gone with her and left Victor to fend for himself! I mean, if you were Rick, wouldn't you? I would."
"Actually, no. I understand him perfectly."
Michelle looked at him in surprise. "Sometimes," Tony continued, "you love someone so much that it's more important to do what's best for her than it is to make yourself happy."
"But they both would have been happy if Rick had gone with her, or if she'd stayed with him!" Michelle protested.
Tony shook his head. "Maybe for awhile, yeah. But how could they ever really be happy with that hanging over their heads? No, Rick," he said decisively, "is the most grudgingly noble character in the history of cinema. He knows that what's in the past has to stay there, and that no matter what Ilsa thinks she wants now, she's better off someplace safe with her husband."
"What makes you so sure Rick knows what's best for her?" Michelle asked, her feminist side a bit indignant.
"Easy. She let herself get caught up in an emotional longing for the past. He did, too, but he snapped out of it in time to see clearly. What they had in Paris was great, sure, but it ended there. Victor and Ilsa belong together now."
Michelle was quiet for a few moments. Then, "how many times have you seen Casablanca, anyway?"
Tony smiled a little. "Too many to count. How 'bout you?"
"After every bad breakup I've ever had, and with my friend Pax after every breakup she's had…so, a lot."
Something, the mushy part, inside Tony twisted. "No way—you watch Casablanca whenever you break up with a guy?" Michelle nodded.
"Why," she asked, "do you?"
"Swear you won't ever tell anyone?"
"Cross my heart."
"I've watched it every time I've been dumped. Which, I should warn you, has happened more than a few times."
"So why'd you take me to see it tonight, then?"
"I dunno," he said thoughtfully. "I guess…it's just that in spite of the ending, it's the most romantic movie I've ever seen."
Much to her embarrassment, Michelle's hands her sweating as she dug through her purse in search of her keys. This was it—the moment they'd been waiting for. Well, she'd been waiting for it anyway. Would there be an awkward "good night?" A passionate kiss? Could she possibly seduce him so soon? Triumphantly, she produced her key and held it aloft briefly before unlocking her door. She turned slightly and asked, attempting to be completely casual about it, "do you want to come in for a cup of coffee or mmmpff—"
Tony cut her off with a kiss. His right hand held the back of her head; his left settled on her back and pulled her towards him. Michelle swayed towards him, just like she had at CTU, eyes fluttering closed, and wrapped her arms around his neck. After that first, passionate onslaught Tony's lips softened, caressing hers slowly, gently, their soft sounds of desire mingling in the hallway. Soon both his hands were moving through her hair, tangling his fingers in her curls.
Michelle groped behind her for the doorknob. She threw the door open moved backwards into her apartment, tugging Tony with her as their kisses grew more frantic.
Until, without warning, he pulled away from her and ran a hand through his hair. "Tony—" she protested, catching her breath, "what—?"
"Shh…" he interrupted. "I had a great time with you tonight, Michelle. Good night." He started to close the door behind him.
"Wait!" Michelle grabbed his sleeve. "What's wrong?"
Tony smiled softly. "Absolutely nothing, sweetheart. That's why I'm leaving." He reached out and gently stroked her cheek. "Now go get some sleep and don't even think about coming in to work tomorrow, okay?" Then, with a quick peck to her forehead, he was gone.
Michelle glared at the closed door for a full minute before grabbing the phone.
Tony didn't waste any time calling Theo. "How'd you know?" he asked without preludes when his brother-in-law picked up. The restaurant had just closed, so he was lucky to even get a hold of the guy.
"How did I know what?" Theo was used to Tony's succinct phone habits.
"That Angela was 'the one' and all that stuff."
Theo didn't even bother asking Tony to clarify. The guy had brought a lot of women to his restaurant over the years, but he'd never once looked at any of them the way he'd looked at Michelle. "I got a call from a guy I know in Paris, and he offered me a job at a five star restaurant there."
"Uh huh?"
"I'd wanted to cook in Paris since I was a kid, Tony, you have to understand that. I worked my way through culinary school, and up through the ranks of several restaurants, and finally it seemed like I was getting my big break. So I called Angie and made plans to pick her up from work because I had some big news. So all day I couldn't wait to tell her, and I planned out this whole long drawn-out thing where I was gonna make her guess what my news was, and then I drove by her school. She was outside watching the kids get onto the buses, grinning and waving at them, and this one little 3rd grade girl came up and gave her a big hug. I knew that if I asked her to, she'd come to France with me, but right then I understood that she'd never be as happy there as she was here. And then I just knew. Because suddenly, for the first time in my entire life, this dream of mine took second place to something: her happiness. I never even told her about the offer, because she would have wanted me to take it. I proposed instead."
"Wow, Theo, I never knew that."
"Yeah, well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to your sister. She still doesn't know what prompted me to ask her to marry me that day."
"Don't worry, Theo, your secret's safe with me. Listen…thanks. That really helps."
"No problem. Hey, Tony? Why don't you bring Michelle on Sunday?"
Tony grinned. Theo could hear it in his voice. "I was planning on it."