A/N: Hey guys, quick thank you to everyone who reviewed my last chapter, I really appreciate it…And I hope you enjoy this one!

Chapter Nineteen - Stress

It was eight-o-clock the next morning and Tony was beginning to stir. Because of the length of their shift the night before, both he, Jack, and Michelle were taking the early few hours off work. They were expected in around noon, before the prisoners were to arrive.

Finally, willing himself to open his eyes, he glanced at Michelle. She was still asleep, breathing quietly, lids fluttering ever-so slightly. Sliding out from underneath the blankets, careful not to disrupt her slumber, Tony crawled out of bed and made his way into the kitchen. He had never been one to sleep for long periods of time.

He quickly threw on a pair of track pants and decided to head downstairs for a paper and maybe some breakfast, since for once they had time for more than the odd piece of toast stuffed in their mouths on the way out the door.

There was still no sign of Michelle when he returned with a paper, bag of assorted bagels and some freshly ground coffee. Michelle had forced that 'instant' stuff on him enough times in a pinch that just the thought repulsed him. It didn't even taste like coffee after all...It was fine for her, with all her milk and sugar she used, but as far as he was concerned…blah!

Half-an-hour later, his lovely little fiancé entered the kitchen with her hair sticking out from every angle, and the t-shirt she had stole from him cutting her off just above her thighs.

"Morning," she smiled as she crossed the room. Tony handed her a mug from the cupboard.

"I got bagels." he indicated to the bag sitting on the counter.

As Michelle waited for her bagel to toast a hand slid under her t-shirt and gently rolled up and down her spine. She, in turn, snaked an arm around Tony's waist and pecked him briefly on the lips.

"You still haven't opened your present..." she suddenly remembered when she went to work spreading cream cheese.

Tony leaned forward to examine her face.

"Now?"

After a quick glance at the microwave clock she nodded.

"We should have enough time."

An odd expression on his face, unsure what to the make of the comment, Tony left the kitchen to grab the package she had left him days before.

When he returned, he found Michelle leaning against the counter, sipping her coffee slowly. She tilted her head to one side.

"C'mon, open it..."

Tony laughed at her impatience before setting the package down and pulling back the ribbon. When the paper fell back, paper he'd meticulously pulled open just to irk Michelle a little more, a white box lay in front of him. He carefully lifted back the lid and frowned. A single, business card-sized piece of paper lay inside. All that was written on it was an address.

"Am I missing something here?"

Michelle smirked. "Read the back..."

He turned the paper around and chuckled as he read it out loud.

"Since I won't be here to walk you through it, show up at this address and give them your name..." he turned to Michelle "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means..." she stated clearly, before downing the rest of her coffee in one gulp. "That if we get dressed quickly we'll have time to go and pick it up before work."

Tony stared at her, dumbfounded, before re-reading the address for some sort of tell as to where they were going. He found none, except that it was in fact, a location not far from CTU.

"Let's go!" Michelle grabbed his hand and dragged him out the kitchen. They dressed quickly and were out the door, driving to the address in less than twenty minutes.


"Are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

Michelle turned away from the window to look at him.

"When I finally figured out something to get you it had to be ordered..." she explained. "I was gonna pick it up on the 23rd but then...I figured you could pick it up without me..."

"So we just have to go pick up this thing you ordered me?"

"You'll see when we get there..."

Tony knew better than to ask for more information as to where they were going. He sighed, not sure he liked the notion of Michelle surprising him.


Tony checked, and double-checked the address w hen they pulled into the parking lot of an art store.

"You got me art?" he raised an eyebrow.

Sporting a huge grin, Michelle clamored out of the car and led the way inside. A guy, somewhere between his late teens and early twenties, smiled when she walked in.

"Hi Michelle,"

She smiled. "Hey Brian, you got it?"

He nodded vigorously. "Wait until you see it, it turned out great..."

Tony looked utterly bewildered.

"Is this...?" Brian asked.

"Yes this is Tony; I think he's still in shock..."

Brian laughed. "Don't worry..." he assured Tony. "You're gonna love it. I'll just go bring it out..."

He stepped out from behind the counter and made his way to the back of the store. Tony was still staring at Michelle like she must've had a momentary lapse of sanity when she concocted this plan.

"I'm gonna love art?"

"You're apartment has nothing on the walls except those old Cubs posters in the spare room..." she baited him leaning in and running her hands up and down his back. "This is going to look much better, trust me."

Tony had thought he trusted her, but after this adventure he might have to re-think his loyalties. The sudden image of some sort of 'abstract' disaster in which he couldn't even tell what the hell it was supposed to be hanging over his couch, while everyone else rambled on about the stupid symbolism, entered Tony's head. Who in their right mind would get him art?

Brian returned carrying a large, framed canvas wrapped in parchment paper. Again Tony shot Michelle a look that said, "uh...huh?".

Careful not to bang into anything, Brian set down the 'monstrosity' in front of Tony and grinned knowingly again at Michelle.

"Are you gonna open it?" she smiled coyly.

Scrutinizing them both carefully, Tony conceded to pulling back the paper, preparing himself for whatever was revealed in its absence. His mouth hung open when he finally saw his present.

It was a painting, nonetheless, but it was not any ordinary painting. It was a black-and-white version of the 1908 World Series winning Chicago Cubs team picture. A holographic representation of Wrigley field served as the backdrop while the players remained front and center.

He turned to Michelle who was smiling at his expression.

"I thought you might like this better than your posters..." she stated easily.

He shook his head before laughing and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"I love it, thank you."

Tony examined the painting more carefully for a few minutes while Brian proceeded to point out some of the 'features' of the frame and the matting and the glass, as well as some of the 'signature characteristics' of the artist, who had in fact initialed the painting. Tony decided he had a new appreciation for art.

Michelle checked her watch.

"We have to get to CTU." she interrupted.

Tony nodded, thanked Brian, and picked up his gift. Michelle shook Brian's hand and thanked him again for his help before leading Tony back outside. When he had carefully secured the painting in the trunk of the SUV, (with the same care and devotion one would usually employ towards a small puppy), he pulled Michelle in for a real kiss.

"You're the best," he told her as they climbed back into the car.

Michelle grinned.

"You should know by now that I know what you like..." she teased suggestively.

He chuckled. "I'll never doubt you again."


They arrived at CTU a few minutes before eleven to find Jack was already in his office. After a few quick 'mornings' from the rest of the staff, (who seemed to feel the novelty of the engagement had worn off since the night before and did not even bother with a second glance,) Michelle and Tony parted ways and Tony headed up to inform Jack they'd arrived.

"Hey ya, Jack." he knocked and entered the office. Jack looked away from his computer.

"Prisoners should be here around two." he informed Tony. "Still no leads on the location of Marlow, but I've got Adam working on it with a couple of IT people."

Jack's face was fixated in an almost painful grimace and he stared at the phone on his desk as though it were about as appealing as a poisonous snake.

Tony watched him carefully before commenting. "You expecting a call?"

Shaking his head, Jack looked away from the phone. "Hoping for one I guess."

With a sigh, Tony took it upon himself to pull out a chair and sat down in front of the desk. He knew that, whether Jack admitted it or not, he should really spill his guts on whatever the problem was. Jack seemed to agree.

"Kate and I had a fight, and Kim refuses to talk to me." he massaged his temples and rested his head in his hands.

"She says I'm never around..."

Tony laughed dryly. "What'd you say?"

"What could I say? It's the truth..."

Tony nodded, and Jack continued.

"She's just not used to it..."He finished dejectedly.

"She'll get there..." Tony promised. "Her sister's trial is starting soon; it's probably just a lot to take."

Jack nodded, knowing he was right.


The interrogation of the prisoners proved unhelpful. Most seemed to have training in alluding torture techniques and did not respond to psychological threats, or pain. When Tony informed Hammond they still needed time, Hammond ordered that they be sent to Guantanamo. Tony insisted that, if Hammond waited a little longer, Jack would shortly be back from the field or he himself might even be able to take some time to work on them.

"Brad I'm almost done with the Interpol scan and Jack should be back any minute. One of us will be able to continue the interrogation – "

"Nothing you do there can't be done at Guantanamo. Both Bauer and yourself have more important things to be doing than interrogating low-ranking military officers who barely speak English. The matter's not pressing…have the prisoners transferred now."

Tony shook his head. Of course the matter was pressing, they were the only leads anyone had on Marlow. Whether or not Division believed him to be an immediate threat was irrelevant. Marlow was out there and as long as he was, there was a good chance he would try something else, it was just a matter of when.

"Fine…we'll move them now."

Tony failed to remind Brad that moving four hostiles would take up almost the same amount of time as interrogating them would.

Scowling, Tony hung up the phone. Brad Hammond was possibly the one person in the whole system that was worse than Chappelle.

Despite the late start this was definitely going to be a long day…


Something was disrupting Tony's slumber and he stirred only briefly before opening his eyes to it. Michelle had wiggled her way across his chest and was smirking wryly at him before leaning in for another barely-there kiss.

"Hi..." she whispered quickly between each contact.

"What are ya doin'?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she teased before leaning in again. This time though, he reciprocated.

"You woke me up in the middle of the night for this?" he grinned, coming up for air.

"Is that a problem?"

Tony laughed and shook his head before tilting his lips upward once more. "Nah, just trying to keep my story straight..."

"When can we stop having these separate apartments, hmm?" Tony nipped Michelle's earlobe from behind. It was even later that night and Michelle had moved onto her own bedside in a vain attempt to get back to sleep.

"Everyone knows now..." he continued

At this, she rolled back over to face him.

"I hadn't even thought about it..."

"I mean it just seems pointless to be paying for two apartments when we only use one...your lease is almost up, right?"

"February..."

Pulling the sheet over her bare shoulders a little more, Tony continued with his plan.

"So what if you just move in here and then we can look for something else closer to…y'know… the wedding?"

Michelle's large, uncontrollable smile said it all. She moved a hand into the small of her soon-to-be-but-not-quite-soon-enough husband's back and planted a kiss on his shoulder. As she snuggled into the all-consuming heat, her eyelids began to droop.

"Can we keep my furniture?"

"Yes..."

"And can we pick a date soon?"

Tony chuckled. "We'd better...But not too far away, mhm'k?" He pinched the back of her thigh.

"Okay...Night, honey." she whispered in a heavy voice. She struggled to stay awake for a few seconds longer, knowing that they would both be suffering for her late-night spontaneity the next day, but not really caring.

Tony's hands trailed up and down her sides a few times before pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Night." he yawned, knowing she had since beaten him to sleep yet again.


"Any new leads are Marlow?" Tony asked as Michelle barely had time to close the door.

It was the following morning at CTU and Tony was on edge. Michelle shook her head.

"Nothing yet, he's not at any of the addresses we checked, and we have no leads."

"Damn it…" Tony grumbled and slammed his fist on the desk. "It's been three days Michelle! How can you not have anything?"

"Well we don't." She retorted calmly. "No one has anything to go on, Marlow disappeared without a trace, the prisoners still haven't given up anything at Guantanamo, and we have no way of figuring out what he plans on doing next…"

"No…" he glared back. "That's not good enough, there has to be something.'

"Maybe you should talk to Jack; Field Ops raided the locations..." Not me... She thought to herself.

Tony said nothing, but stood fuming quietly, arms folded.

"Are you okay?" Michelle tried the less evasive approach.

"Of course I'm okay." he snapped. "Chappelle just wants to see results and so far there are none…I want to know why that's the case when we've had half of this office working on it for three – "

"You said that already, I told you we don't have anything to work up."

"Fine…get back to work."

Michelle eyed him carefully, waiting for him to either clue in on how unreasonable he was acting or admit that the pressure Chappelle was putting on him was taking it's toll so she at least had something to work with…Right now he was giving her nothing…

"Fine." She said quietly and turned to leave the room. Tony still didn't seem to care about how he'd acted.


When they stumbled in the door, exhausted, later that night, Michelle did so with caution. Tony had been on edge for the rest of the day and she had tried her best to avoid him. They were no closer to finding out Marlow's location but Tony, Michelle decided, was either brooding silently to himself, not feeling the need for another outburst, or stressed out over what Chappelle would say when he called the following morning with no new information.

As Michelle made to go collapse on the couch, Tony stopped her.

"C'mere..." he said quietly, pleading with her more than anything else.

Michelle turned around, trying to keep her expression blank.

"What?"

He squeezed her tightly against his body.

"I know it's not your fault...Chappelle's just pissing me off..."

"And you couldn't have told me that this morning?" she scathed.

"Probably should've..." he hung his head. "I'm sorry..."

"It's alright..."


"What are you watching?" Michelle had just emerged from the shower to find Tony sprawled out on the couch and clutching the remote to his chest.

He did not answer but motioned towards the screen as the ever-archetypal Indiana Jones plummeted into a pit of snakes.

"Raiders?"

"Yeah, wanna watch?" he moved his feet to make room as Michelle settled on the vacated cushion, and fixated her eyes on the screen.

"I love this movie…" She whispered quietly a while later. "I can't remember the last time I saw it…"

"I know…me either…I forgot how good it is…"

"It's the best of all of them."

"Definitely…no contest..."

For a reason unknown to her, Michelle was suddenly feeling very clingy. Now that Tony was back to normal she didn't want to miss out on any opportunities to be in close quarters with him. She continued to sneak glances across the couch for the rest of the movie until Tony finally noticed and turned to her.

"What's up?" he asked, meeting her gaze.

Michelle shook her head and smiled shyly, embarrassed at having been caught when she had no idea why she couldn't stop staring.

"Nothing," she assured him.

Tony turned back to the TV but reached out an arm and motioned Michelle towards him. She slid over and situated her body in the space Tony had made for her on the outer half of the couch. She laughed when one hand flattened her hair to prevent it from obscuring the vision of the warm body behind her.

When the edit credits finally rolled on screen, Tony squeezed the hand linked through his, resting against Michelle's stomach.

A sudden feeling of restlessness overcame her and Michelle could no longer sit still. She decided the hormonal imbalance she was experiencing that seemed to be playing tricks on her mind, was due to nothing more than the current time of the month that would soon be upon her.

"I'm going for a walk…" she decided aloud. "Wanna come?"

Tony nodded and waited for her to get off the couch before following her to the front door.


"Tony?" Michelle roused him from his peaceful state later that night.

"Mhmm...?" he moaned softly against the pillow where his head had been resting while she kneaded a few knots out of his back.

"Do you ever think about..." she hesitated as she pressed her palms into firmer circles across his skin. "…that day...?"

"The nuke?" he rolled over to get a better view of her face. She sat with her hands resting awkwardly on her knees and swaying slightly from side to side on the bed.

She nodded.

"Sometimes..." he admitted. "Why?"

Shrugging, Michelle flopped on her side and began twiddling with a few wisps of hair that had escaped her clip.

"Can you believe it's been this long?" She asked. "I mean so much has happened since then...so much has changed..."

Tony shifted position so he was now lying partially on his side too and propped himself up with an elbow.

"It could've just as easily have been us..." she continued, avoiding his stare. "And it's like everyone's moved on without even remembering what happened. You can't even tell CTU was bombed..."

Tony still had not said anything.

"Mason didn't even want to be there, did I ever tell you that?"

Shaking his head slightly from side to side, Tony encouraged her to continue. It had been no secret that George Mason didn't want that job, but for one reason or another Tony had never heard Michelle's version of the story. Probably because, once the first week had passed, they no longer talked about it, fearing it would be too painful for the other person, or themselves.

"He wanted to be a teacher..." she told him softly. "He ended up dying doing a job he hated and now half the people in the office don't even know who he was..."

Michelle was starting to feel like the conversation was becoming a little too one-sided.

"I'm sorry...I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"Nothing's wrong with you..." Tony interjected. "A lot's changed since then..." He inched a little closer. "And not all of it turned out badly..." A finger traced her cheek.

"It's just so goddamn hard…" she sighed and leaned back against the pillow, now staring at the ceiling.

"It's not fair…none of this is fair…"

It was the job. It was all just part of the job and Michelle knew that. It was strange though, going on like nothing had happened, like nothing had changed, like God knows how many people hadn't been affected by the events of one day.

Tony watched her carefully. She was staring into nothingness with a glazed over expression. In truth, he had been waiting for something like this to occur, not really sure when it would happen. Michelle had gone so many months without saying a word, Tony'd considered that maybe she'd had a mini-breakdown in the presence of someone else in the days following the bomb.

The fact that Michelle did this….the fact that she could completely hide any sort of emotion evoked by the circumstances was what made her affective at her job. The fact that she was hiding these emotions…not lacking in them was what made her affective. They were there, whether she chose to exhibit them or not. The compassion was there, the fear, the anxiety, the anger, the frustration…it was all there, just underneath her tough exterior, motivating her to do what she had to do. On the surface, she was just as much a hard ass as everyone else…underneath it all, she was human…

"Here…" he sat up on his knees and slowly flipped Michelle over onto her stomach. "You need this more than me…"

This made Michelle squeal and shriek in protest.

"No!" she pushed his hands away and curled up in the fetal position. "Tony, no! Stop! I hate massages!"

"How can you hate massages?" he taunted exasperatedly.

"They hurt!"

Tony shook his head, chuckling. "No they don't…not when I give 'em…" he stated confidently.

"Because I'm sure you do that to yourself all the time…" she retorted.

"Just…" he reached out for her again as she flinched and tried to lodge a pillow between them. He laughed even harder.

"Michelle…no…stop…just…" he pried the pillow from her hands, and flung it off the bed, in one swift movement. "Trust me…if it hurts I'll stop, alright?"

Having just lost her last form of defense, she conceded. "Fine…" she allowed herself to be turned over once again.

"Just…not too hard…"

Expert hands slid beneath the straps of her tank top and gently began manipulating the muscles beneath the creamy skin of her shoulders.

"How's that?" he asked, pressing a little harder.

Michelle mumbled something pleasant, but incoherent, and allowed her head to fall against the mattress while Tony continued.

"You're really tense baby…" he commented, not really expecting any sort of response as Michelle began to rest a little more heavily against the bed, clearly not so concerned with whatever had been troubling her.

She moaned a little in acknowledgement. Tony laughed and slid a little further down her back.

As the minutes wore on, Tony continued his precise movements, fully in tune with whatever his fingers decided to do. Eventually he assisted Michelle in removing her tank top and he continued to work the muscles slowly, inch-by-inch, until he finally reached the small of her back.

He ran his hands quickly up and down her skin a few times before announcing: "Done".

Michelle rolled over with a dreamy look on her face.

"Now that wasn't so bad was it?"

She shook her head and laughed. "We should do that again sometime…" she decided as she reached for a hand and urged him on top of her, his body forming an almost air-tight seal with her own.

"Don't worry…" he assured her. "I'm counting on it…"


Two days passed and CTU was still no closer to finding Marlow. Division continued bearing down on the staff to come up with something concrete, something they could use to nab the perpetrator, but they always seemed to come up short. Leads continued to end up no where and Michelle found her stress levels becoming elevated. Unfortunately, the primary reason for this was as far away from being work-related as one could get. Michelle hoped the issue would be resolved soon on its own, but the anxiety associated with it remained ever present. She tried to shake off the feeling of how badly her situation would worsen if her worries proved accurate.

It's nothing…she convinced herself. You're making a big deal out of nothing…


New Year's came and went without event for Tony or Michelle. In fact, due to an error made by one of the people in Tech, Tony was stuck working on a status report well past midnight on the 31st. Michelle, deciding she was definitely in no mood for sitting home by herself that night, opted to stay and help in any way she could, and try to the speed up the process.

The virtually non-existent night shift seemed completely oblivious to whatever they were doing and didn't feel the need to disturb the relatively enjoyable hours they spent cooped up in Tony's office finishing the report.

When midnight rolled around those on the floor gathered around the monitors which were tuned into the news channel, broadcasting the countdown. Michelle looked up from the computer screen when she heard the familiar shouts of "TEN!...NINE!..." coming from the TV. Tony continued typing away busily, eager to get done as soon as possible. When shouts of "Happy New Year!" erupted from the floor Michelle felt a hand on the back of her head pulling her in for a quick peck.

"Happy New Year…" Tony told her robotically before turning back to the screen.

Michelle repeated the salutation and they went back to the report as if nothing had happened.

A little disappointed with, but entirely understanding of, the few seconds of intimacy they got to share at midnight, Michelle stumbled into the house, her thoughts almost entirely elsewhere.


As soon as the door closed behind them at home later that night, the same hand that had pulled her in at midnight was pulling Michelle back in for Round Two of their New Year's Eve, or lack thereof…

"This year will be better." Tony informed her simply, after kissing Michelle hard on the mouth.

He rested his forehead against hers and fingered her hair, eyes closed.

Michelle pulled him in closer and breathed heavily against his chest, wondering if he would still be thinking along the same lines if her suspicions were not assuaged shortly.

You're over-exaggerating…The rational part of her brain reminded her again. It's gonna end up being nothing…

"You okay?" he asked, feeling her body become a little rigid against his.

She nodded and smiled comfortingly.

"Just tired…" she touched his cheek. "Bed?"

An arm slid around her waist and they walked down the hall.

Michelle was still fretting over her "predicament". Logically, she shouldn't be concerned, even in a worse-case scenario there were many things she could do to deal with such a problem. Her fears, really, were fueled by thoughts of how Tony would react in said "worse-case scenario"…would he be upset? Anxious? Or even…happy? There was no way to know. This was definitely not something they'd considered, not now anyway…

Tony knew all-too well something was wrong. Michelle was worried about something but he decided not to push her. Perhaps it was one of those things he couldn't help her with, that she would deal with much more appropriately on her own…She'd tell him if she thought he should know, if she needed him to help her…That much he was certain of.

It's nothing…he convinced himself as the bedroom door clicked shut.