Denver Was So Two Years Ago (Chapter 2)

Title: Seasons Change, People Don't

Fandom: 24

Characters: Milo Pressman/Gwen Dushku

Table: 5

Prompt: Change

Word Count:

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Gwen brings Milo back as promised. But what starts out as routine is bound to get a little out of hand as old memories and scars are prodded.

"Did Buchanan send you?"

"Huh?" Gwen asked suddenly jerked from her train of thought. She gripped the wheel tighter and turned her lights on to fight off the approaching darkness. Milo kept his eyes locked on some nameless point before him, just outside the windshield.

"Did Buchanan send you?" He repeated finally breaking his gaze to stare at his trembling hands. Gwen brushed her wet bangs from her face and shook her head.

"I saw you leave early, and well as far as I can remember, I've never seen you leave early once," she began as she stopped at the traffic light. She took this time to turn to her former friend, studying his face which had been contorted with a look of internal suffering. "I'm glad I followed the hunch."

"You didn't have to," he replied simply. The light turned green and the car was in motion once again, turning onto the home stretch. Gwen shrugged and Milo shook his head. "No… the way I've treated you since you came here-"

" -has been no worse than the way I've treated you," she finished for him. "Milo, I don't honestly know where things between us fell apart, but it doesn't have to matter anymore. What's in the past is over." She pulled easily into the parking garage, flashing her card and entering a code for access. Her designated spot was not hard to find as she reached it and shut the car off. For a moment, neither moved nor spoke, but sat in uncomfortable silence. It was Gwen patting his knee comfortingly and getting out that broke their strife and headed inside.

Gwendolyn turned her back to Milo as he changed out of his rain-soaked suit and into the CTU sweats she'd brought him. "Doyle," he spoke suddenly, his voice so soft that she wasn't sure if he had spoken at all. He pulled his shirt over his head and moved to stand before her, handing her his wet clothes.

"Come again?" She questioned. He closed the door, his palm flat against it's steel as he momentarily rested his forehead on it.

"You said you didn't know what happened between us. Doyle did. That is where it all changed." He turned around and the look on his face extinguished what firey comeback Gwen had on her tongue.

Several times Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came to mind. Milo scoffed, brushing his damp hair out of his face with a heavy sigh. "What did he have to do with anything?" Gwen's voice held a foreboding in it, almost as if she didn't want to hear his answer but was unable to keep herself from asking the question.

"Why do you think I left Denver, Gwen? I gave you everything I had, taught you everything I knew. And in the end, you still picked the trigger-happy jerk who had nothing to offer you!" The confession came as an outburst rather than the calm words he'd been shooting for.

"You think just because you showed me a couple of computer codes that I was just going to throw caution to the wind and jump in bed with you?" Something snapped in Gwen then, the reference of Doyle having crossed the line, and she found herself no longer carrying about his delicate feelings.

"Why not? Or does it take knocking off a couple of potential terrorists to get your panties wet?" Milo shot back, his adrenaline pulsing through his veins and making his heart pound in his ears. Gwen slapped him hard across his face, a look of shock coming over both of their eyes soon after.

"Maybe I couldn't bear to see myself as the one to make the pretty boy computer nerd kill himself." There were tears behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Milo visibly recoiled from the stabbing remark, however there had been something in her words that took every bit of bite out of him. Gwen herself seemed to be a little take back by the unusual sarcasm and derogative name.

"I loved you," a broken man spoke, the weak tone so uncharacteristic of the twenty-four year-old. Worst yet, he wasn't sure whether he was speaking it to Gwen or to the bit of Raineigh he had just seen within her. Perhaps it was both.

Suddenly he found his back pressing gently against the door, the warmth of another body covering his front. Small slender hands made their way into soft dark locks, pulling face down to level. "I think may have loved you too."

Pale pink lips brushed his own full ones and the resulting spark caused both to slightly jump before returning for a repeat. There was nothing animalistic or rough about the kiss, their mouths both moving together to the tune of longing and need. Two years worth of regret and self-inflicted punishment unraveled and cultivated all in this barely constrained act of passion.

Pulling away, two tears broke free from Gwen's yellow-green eyes before she could stop them and she let her hands fall from his neck and cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered in a chocked tone. Breaking apart, she pushed past him and disappeared out the door.