This is just something I thought I would try. It's totally different from any of my other stories and I hope it's okay. I am not usually a big fan of stories that rehash episodes and hash out a character's inner thoughts, or at least, I've never had a desire to write such a story before. But I thought it would be interesting to go back and reexamine Audrey's actions during the 12 PM episode in light of recent revelations, as they add a whole new twist to actions we may have previously considered insignificant. It's the first fanfic I've written in prose format, so I'm a little nervous about it, and I would love to know what you think, so if you get a chance to review I would really appreciate it.

Note to overseas viewers: this fic is based on the 12 PM episode, but it looks at that episode in light of revelations in the 9 PM episode, so if you're more than a week behind I'd stay away.

To make it easy to distinguish, all lines that were said out loud on the show are bold, whereas any thoughts inside Audrey's head are italicized.

If you are looking for any of my other stories, they have once again been deleted because the administrators have a problem with screenplay format. You can still read them on my brand new website, which is linked to in my profile. If you want to leave reviews there use the comments form at the bottom. Sorry for any inconvenience :(


"I don't understand the problem," Jack says impatiently. "David Palmer was murdered because he was about to expose Walt Cummings' connection to the terrorists."

I cringe uncomfortably, hoping nobody notices. Then Jack drops the bombshell.

"When Cummings failed to frame me for Palmer's murder, he tried to kill me."

I suddenly feel a ton of bricks drop to the bottom of my stomach. I look away and I am convinced that the walls are suddenly closing in on me. I feel hot all over and pray that I'm not sweating. Luckily nobody seems to notice if I am.

"All that may be true, Jack, but we don't have proof," Bill reasons.

Somehow, I find myself speaking up even though my thoughts are a million miles away.

"We can prove that Cummings used Spencer to get Jack's assassin into CTU," I say, as if taking Jack's side in this disagreement will somehow mitigate what I've done.

My mind wanders again as they continue to argue, until I hear Jack say something about secretly meeting with Mike Novick.

"With Novick's help, we can isolate Cummings," Jack reasons.

Lynn starts giving him some BS about why it's a bad idea, and yet again, I find myself speaking without thinking.

"I think it's worth a try," I say.

As soon as the words are out of my mouth I regret them. What the hell was I thinking? When Cummings sees that Jack is still alive, he'll come after him again.

I am too busy worrying about what will happen to Jack that I don't really hear the rest of what they are saying, until I am pretty sure I hear Lynn tell Jack to work out his protocols with me. Then he promises Jack that they would keep looking through Cummings' background to see what else they can find, making my stomach lurch again as I worry that someone will find out about that night last April.

Bill and Lynn leave the room. Now it's just me and Jack, and as he comes over and stands behind me, I feel suffocated with guilt. I desperately want out of the room but we have a job to do, so I stare at my screen and try as hard as I can to focus on the task at hand.

Jack asks if I can bring up a satellite photo of the compound. I do as he asks, trying not to let on anything. But his proximity is suffocating given the circumstances, and knowing Jack he has to know something's going on, so I try to preempt any suspicion.

"Jack, I'm sorry if I'm being a little distant, I'm just...It's taking me a little while to get used to you being alive," I find myself saying. As soon as the words are out of my mouth I realize how stupid and probably hurtful they sound.

His face falls as he says "I understand" and backs away a little. I want to apologize, but I know that will probably just make things worse.

He starts to walk away, and I feel the panic level rising. I should be relieved but I am terrified that he's walking into a death trap.

Wait. Maybe I can share my concern without giving anything away. "Jack?" I hear myself saying, not entirely sure what I am going to say next but needing some way to stall him, as if delaying him a few seconds will somehow make him safer.

"When Cummings finds out you're still alive, he's going to come after you again," I blurt out, hoping I haven't said too much. Jack just nods and mumbles "yeah" before walking away.

I sit at the table in the conference room, comforted by the solitude. I wrack my brain trying to think back to that night last April, to see if I can think of anything suspicious that could help us now, but rehashing that night is making me nauseous and I can't think straight. The thought of letting him get that close to me knowing what I know now makes my skin crawl.

Just the realization that I slept with a traitor is enough to make me feel dirty and angry and violated and ashamed, but I didn't just sleep with a traitor. I slept with the man who tried to have Jack killed eighteen months ago and then again today, and will likely try again when he realizes his earlier attempt failed. I feel uncomfortable in my own skin, afraid that even if Jack comes back alive I will never be able to forgive myself.

I give up trying to rehash that night, rationalizing that it was over six months ago and probably had nothing to do with what's going on today.

I take another minute to get my emotions as in-check as possible, then I go back out to the floor, determined to stay focused and do everything I can to stop the nerve gas and help ensure that Jack gets out of there alive.

Just as I am starting to breathe again, Diane Huxley confronts me.

"Can I ask you something?" she says as she approaches.

I smile and try my best to be friendly.

"Of course," I say in as nice of a tone as I can manage.

"Do you still have feelings for Jack?" she asks.

I don't know why I am caught off-guard. I should have expected that whatever she wanted to ask had to do with Jack, but I guess I wasn't prepared for her to come out and ask such a personal question.

Internally, I have no doubt as to the answer to her question, but I find myself unable to answer her out loud. It's none of her business anyway, but I feel like at this particular moment I'd have trouble answering no matter who asked.

"I'm sorry, but that's personal," I answer. I try to walk away but she's not ready to end the conversation.

"I know. But he's been living with my son and me for the last six months. We started to become a family, and I care about him," she continues. I am not sure how to respond or even what to think. Then she hits me with the bombshell.

"Do you know he still loves you?" she asks.

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. An hour ago, I'd have felt relieved and hopeful, but now, knowing that Jack still cares only adds to my guilt. Would he still feel the same way if he knew what I had done?

Earlier, when I interviewed Diane, she had said something about accepting Jack for who he was, and somehow, even though I knew that she didn't know our history together it felt like she was out to throw salt in the wound of guilt that had afflicted me for the past eighteen months. The fact that she probably had no idea who Jack really was and hadn't seen him do some of the things I'd seen didn't exactly make me feel a lot better. Telling myself that if Jack had to interrogate Derek she'd probably react the same way I did didn't help either.

"If you don't love him, let him go," Diane lectures, hitting a nerve that makes me want to scream. More than that, I want to tell Jack how I really feel, but he is gone, and I don't know if he was ever coming back even if he got out alive.

Suddenly, I can't take it anymore. I have to talk to him. I know it isn't the time or place but I have to hear his voice, have to know if what Diane had said was true. So against my better judgment, I go back into the conference room and copy the number he had scribbled down before he left into my phone. It feels so strange, having to look up his number.

"Bauer," he answers.

"Jack, it's Audrey," I say tentatively.

"What's going on?" he asks gruffly. The tone in his voice make it clear that he is in his "mission mode" and is expecting me to be calling with a status update or something. Suddenly, I feel silly for calling him and realize I have no idea what I am going to say.

"What?" he asks when I don't respond. I wrack my brain trying to figure out how to tell him what I want him to know, what I need him to know.

"Audrey, what?" he asks hastily but not quite impatiently.

"When this is over, are you coming back?" I manage to spit out.

"I don't know," he replies.

"Are you going back to Diane?" I ask. The last thing I intended to do was pepper him with questions or add more pressure to everything he's dealing with but I am scared that I'll never see him again.

"No," he says firmly, but then his voice becomes more uncertain. "I – I – I don't know what I'm doing yet. I haven't had any time to think about it."

"Of course he hasn't," I chide myself. "Stop interrogating him and get to the point." I ignore my inner voice and continue with the questions.

"Is it true what she said?" I find myself asking.

"What did she say?" Jack asks.

"That you still love me," I say quietly.

Jack is silent for an agonizing minute as I silently curse myself for asking.

To be honest, I'm not even sure how I want him to answer. When Diane told me what he said, it exacerbated my guilt, and I know that if Jack confirms it I'll feel even worse. But at the same time I can't stand the thought that he may have moved on when I still think about him, still miss him, still dream about him constantly.

Finally, he takes a deep breath and speaks in a low voice.

"I never stopped loving you," he admits. "Not for one second."

As soon as he says it I know that I feel relieved. As guilty as I feel about everything I realize how much worse it would be if he said no. I want so badly to be able to pour out my heart and tell him that I never stopped loving him either, but somehow I can't seem to get the words out.

"Then don't go away again, Jack, please," I find myself begging, silently praying for him to come back so that I'll have another chance to tell him everything I need to tell him.

"It's more complicated than that," he says.

"I know," I reply, struggling not to cry.

"It's time. I've gotta go," he says, and the knot returns to my stomach. I realize that if I let him hang up without telling him how I feel I may never get the chance.

"Jack..." I begin, steeling myself to say it, but he cuts me off before I get the chance.

"I have to go," he repeats, more forcefully this time. His tone makes me completely lose my nerve, and I start stammering like an idiot.

"Okay. Okay, I know, bye." I say quickly, and hang up the phone.

I sit there for another minute, cursing myself both for calling him at such a bad time and for not having the courage to say what I wanted to say. I wipe my eyes and struggle to get it together, trying as hard as I can to get my mind back on the task at hand.

"Mr. Buchanan, I've got Jack Bauer on line three," an operator says twenty minutes later. I don't think I've ever been so relieved in my life, not even when Jack rescued my father and me from the terrorists eighteen months ago.

Jack gets on the line and tells us where the canisters are. I somehow manage to process the information and offer to call CVP. I don't say anything to Jack, but in spite of everything going on, hearing his voice makes me feel a thousand times better. From this point forward, I vow to stay focused. I don't know when or if Jack is coming back here, or how he'd react if he knew about that night last April, or whether I'll ever get a chance to tell him how I feel. But I know that he's okay, and for right now, that's going to have to be enough.