Of course, the world had to go and try to destroy itself.

Or rather, some of the terrorist factions had decided to work together, putting aside their differences to try and take out the US. Then, when they finished, they could duke it out amongst themselves.

So for about a week, Chloe and Jack found themselves living in a world of constant chaos, fear and work, strung out on caffeine and no doze, catching sleep in snatches of minutes here and there. Chloe had coordinated over 40 field ops on comms, hacked more tech than even she imagined humanly possible and thought Jack and his field agents managed to get themselves killed a half dozen times.

The only thing worse would have been if Prescott had been in the city, but at the first hint of impending doom, she had called Morris and told them to leave the city. She couldn't go into detail, as he no longer worked for the CTU, but he knew the tone she used and bolted for Vermont. Between the two of them, the had decided no one would want to blame a place known for hippies, syrup and Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream.

Jack had an even worse time of it, having been up close and personal to three explosions (none of them nuclear, thank god), been in two burning buildings (Though Chloe was pretty sure he set one of the fires) and a helicopter crash, participated in several fire and fist fights, lost a few of his agents and been shot. Medical had pulled the bullet out of his shoulder, along with random shrapnel, stitched several wounds that would add to his collection of scars.

Wrapping up comms after the final cell (that they knew of) had been put down with extreme prejudice by a large group of, oddly enough, Marines and Air Force soldiers in Colorado, Chloe made her way down to Medical. It was fairly crowded and she looked around for Jack or another familiar face.

Dana was hovering by Cole's bed, as the young man had been knocked out in one of the multiple explosions. The black streaks on her cheeks said she used way too much, non-waterproof mascara, but, because she was visibly still upset Chloe offered her a reassuring nod. Considering the animosity in their relationship, a smile would have been too much, probably would have made her think Cole was dying or something.

Jo Reese was sitting on one of the exam beds, a pissed off medic bent over her thigh, berating her over something. Chloe stepped towards her, as she was the member of the field team she knew best. Reese offered her a tired smile. "Hell of a week, huh?"

"Yeah," Chloe agreed wanly. "Have you…What the hell did you do to your leg?"

Her thigh was marred by a strange mangled mess that looked almost burnt. Kind of smelled burnt, too.

The woman arched a brow and offered a shrug. "I had to stop the bleeding in the field. It doesn't hurt as much as it looks like it should."

The medic snorted. "Just wait till the adrenaline and painkillers overloading your system fade."

"Is there permanent damage?"

"Besides a hideous scar, no."

"Then I'll deal," Jo crossed her arms and settled back. "Jack went off to his office a few minutes ago, Chloe."

"Thanks," Chloe said, leaving Jo to continue trading snarls with the medic. The fact that Jack had walked out of Medical under his own power was promising, but if he was mobile it also meant he was well enough to be stoic and pretend like he wasn't hurting. She was fairly certain that, if possible, Jack would try and pass anything short of decapitation off as a minor injury with a growled, "I'm fine."

And it wasn't like anyone was gonna call him on it. Except Chloe, when she caught him.

Fortunately, he wasn't trying to hide, just stalking around his office like a caged tiger, totally wired on adrenaline and caffeine. Chloe entered the room, closing and locking the door behind herself and just stared at him. He was battered, bruised, a little singed and dusty, but blessedly alive. Once again, she had known there was a chance Jack might not make it through a crisis, despite a somewhat humorous blog on the CTU server that had a list of 'Jack Bauer Facts' that was not unlike the Chuck Norris one on the 'Net.

But Chloe knew, despite all he had survived, he was only human and. Thus, one of these days, he wasn't going to survive.

That thought brought tears up to prick at her eyes as Jack saw her and offered a smile, breathing, "Chloe."

"Jack." She took four steps, closing the space between them, and looked up to meet his gaze, noting dust or soot caught in the fine lines around his eyes. Very slowly, she lifted her hands and put them against his chest, and almost instantly his breath hitched. She could feel his heart thudding against her hand, could feel his muscles tremble, the stress of the past few weeks having built to a near bursting point. Even through the fabric of his black t-shirt, his skin felt warm and vital her hands.

"Jack," she murmured, his name again. "I'm glad you're back."

"Chloe." He looked down at her, eyes a bit wild, a bit needy. "I…."

She leaned into him fractionally, letting her breasts brush against his chest lightly, and a long, low, rumble emerged from his throat. He lowered his head a bit, burying his nose in her hair, and she heard him draw in a long breath.

"You smell good," he whispered into the shell of her ear, making her shiver happily. At least she though it was a shiver, but everyone around the CTU had caffeine tremors by this point.

"Yeah, there's nothing sexier than two day old shampoo, red bull and burnt circuitry," she said dryly. Chloe shifted her head a little, her nose against his throat, inhaling his scent. Usually he smelled clean and crisp, like soap, detergent, gun powder and some kind of piney aftershave, but today there was sweat and smoke and cordite. Maybe a little bit of blood in the mix too, but under it all was Jack and something inside her flared hotly.

She brushed her lips over the tendons in his neck, then let her tongue slide out and lick him there. A long, low sound of anguish escaped from his throat, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her against him.

She could already feel his erection beginning to bulge against her belly, and she pressed against it, rubbing against him, intent on hearing him make that sound again. It was the stress of the past few weeks, she decided. They needed an outlet, and, since they had been heading in this direction before the world went bug nuts, this was it.

He pulled her to him more roughly, and she pushed up against him, loving the way their bodies fit together. He was taller than her, but didn't tower over her, which she liked. Breathing harshly, he lifted a hand and cupped her face, looking down at her with lust dark, heavy-lidded eyes.

"Chloe," he muttered. "We really shouldn't... not here. Home, with a bed would be good."

Her mind boggled for a moment, but the part of her that wasn't hormone addled recognized it was a good suggestion. Home. Okay. They could do that at another time. "Later."

"Uh." He looked like he was searching his brain for an effective argument, but was coming up empty. Other things were far more urgent. She could relate. "You sure?"

She pressed her body against his, feeling the heat of his skin, the firm strength of his muscles, the obvious masculinity, and she wanted him more than ever.

Screw the rules of workplace conduct. She didn't have the slightest interest in them right now and really, when had she and Jack ever given a flying fuck about playing it safe. "Do I seem unsure?"

He only hesitated for a second, then grinned and reached down, hands finding purchase on the back of her thighs, lifting her and carrying her the few remaining steps to his desk. Various and sundry office supplies were swept aside, scattering over the floor. The small, rational part of her brain noted with some relief that his laptop was not amongst them. He set her on the so that she was sitting up, facing him.

"Jack," she said., but found that was the extent of her verbal ability for the moment.

He opened his mouth, but seemed to be suffering from a similar malady. "Chloe," he said, then kind of waved as if asking if the desk worked for her.

The corners of her mouth quirked up and she nodded. Who hadn't had an office fantasy or two? True, she never actually thought she'd be acting one out, but that was neither here nor there as he put his arms around her, pulled her close and kissed her, hard. There was gentleness and seduction in his kisses, but the over riding emotion was need. They weren't going to take things slowly this time, injuries or no.

His tongue explored her mouth, tasting her, dancing over her tongue, the roof of her mouth. She met his tongue with her own, stroking and tangling and flirting. He groaned and pulled her against him harder, feeling her breasts push against his chest, her thighs on either side of his, his denim clad erection brushing lightly against the crotch of trousers. She really wished their clothes weren't in the way.


Clothes were evil. Jack came to that conclusion as there continued to be layers of clothing between Chloe and himself.

Her thoughts must have been quite, because she bunched up his t-shirt, sliding her hands up underneath it, hands stroking over the bare, marked skin of his back. He broke away from the kiss and let his head drop back, neck arching, teeth gritted.

"You like it when I touch you," she whispered, a statement not a question. Some part of his brain registered that she sounded quite pleased by this revelation.

"Yes. God yes, Chloe."

She reacted to his tone by putting her hands all over him, stroking his back and his chest and his hair, hands caressing, tracing, mapping the scars as though memorizing them. He gave another long, drawn-out groan, and she laughed softly. "Like that, Jack?"

Speech was beyond him, so he nodded wordlessly.

She leaned forward and nipped, teeth grazing his Adam's apple. "If you wanted, you could touch me, too."

He realized he'd been overwhelmed by the sensations she was creating, by the fact that he was doing this with Chloe, in his office, on his desk, that his hands had fallen to his sides, clenched into fists. Relaxing his hands, he began brushing them over her. She was wearing a pale purple top. He liked it-- it was a good color on her, though he liked green the best-- but it had to go. He pulled it off, exposing quite a lot of her creamy flesh, and discovered she was wearing a white bra that only covered about half of her breasts, displaying her cleavage nicely.

He stared, wanting to have this picture permanently burned into his mind. He'd learned long ago that a beautiful memory could get you through some hard times, keep you sane.

"Chloe," he rumbled, voice even deeper and more growly than usual. "You're beautiful."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."

That was a typically Chloe comment and he couldn't suppress a smile. She never took compliments well, and tended to brush them off or respond sarcastically. "I mean it, Chloe. You're gorgeous."

"It's a good bra."

He reached for the clasp, which was in the back-- It had taken years of practice for him to figure out how the hell the damn things worked-- unfastened it, and tossed the bra away. He gazed at her for a long moment. "Nope. Still gorgeous."

She rolled her eyes again, but he just cupped her breasts in his hands, kneading gently as he continued to watch her.

With a playful growl of her own, she said. "You get to stare, I do too." She yanked at his t-shirt, managed to pull it over his head, and studied him the way he'd been studying her. The scars did not deter her, in fact the opposite was true. They were a part of Jack, told the story of what he had survived and thus, were beautiful in their own way.

"Nice," she said at last. "Very nice."

Leaning forward, she began brushing kisses over his bare chest, and his brain short-circuited again. Her hands were on his back, her lips on his chest and shoulders, and he let his hands roam all over her, too, touching her soft skin and her soft, somewhat rumpled hair.

Then her lips brushed over his nipple and he made a noise that some might classify as a whimper. But it totally wasn't, cause Jack Bauer did not whimper. Ever. That was his story, and he was sticking to it.

She lifted her head, wicked grin on her face. "Like that?"

He ground his teeth together. "Just a bit, yes."

She did it again. Pleasure shot through him and something inside him just seemed to break. He couldn't take it any more. Without pretense, he shoved her over onto the desk-- not roughly, but not really gently, either. She kicked off her shoes and he stripped off her pants and panties, then gripped her knees, pushing them apart.

This wasn't exactly how he'd pictured the day ending, but he would admit to having thought about it over the years. This was a fantasy come to life. Chloe spread out on his desk, naked and waiting for him.

Her hair gleamed in the low light of the office and her skin made him think of cream and silk. He could see her breasts rising and falling as she panted for breath, could see her exposed pink flesh glistening with arousal, and a renewed sense of need flooded him.

Part of him wanted to just unzip his jeans and slide into her, but he wanted to make sure she was ready. And she looked so turned on as she stared at him, her legs spread wide, her most intimate flesh exposed to him, that he couldn't help himself. He bent and pressed a kiss there.

She jerked, whether from shock or pleasure he wasn't sure. "Jack," she gasped. "No, Jack, plenty of time for that later..."

Ignoring her half hearted protest. He ran his hands down her thighs, parted her with his fingers, and began to stroke her very slowly, carefully with his tongue. Her protests died away, and she moaned, dug her fingers into his hair, and held on.

Her arousal was spicy on his tongue and heat and need swirled inside him, more intense than ever. He slid a finger into her, then two, feeling her slick channel stretch to accommodate him, feeling her hips push eagerly against him. After a few minutes, he was sure she was ready for him and God knew he was ready for her.

He started to lift his head away, but she clutched at him. "Jack... please..."

Responding to the desperation in her voice, he lowered his head again and began stroking her with his tongue, a little faster, a little harder. His fingers moved inside her, in a hard, fast rhythm. She cried out, writhing against him, her fingers trying to tangle in his short hair as her heartbeat thundering in his ears.

He lifted his head just a little, seeing her eyes clenched shut, her mouth open as she sobbed with pleasure, and it didn't take an expert to know she was close. "Come for me, Chloe," he said softly.

He ran his tongue over her again, thrusting his fingers into her hard. She arched her head back and bit on he fist to muffle her scream as her body shuddered frantically, her inner muscles spasming around his fingers, over and over again.

At last he pulled his hand away, raised his head, and looked at her. Her body gleamed with sweat and she stared back at him with wide eyes, like she'd never really seen him before. He could understand that. This was extremely new territory between them and he wasn't exactly holding back. She didn't seem to mind though, if he muffled screams were anything to go by.

She looked at him for a moment longer, like she was trying to get her bearings, or, more likely, trying to recover. At last she flashed her wide grin and said, "Your turn."


Still gasping for breath, Chloe looked up at Jack. He was still standing between her thighs, his face tense, his jaw set, staring at her body as hungrily as if she were a supermodel, instead of, well, her. Her body still hummed and glowed with the aftereffects of her orgasm. She'd never come so hard in her life, and she wasn't sure if it was because of the release of stress, the slightly forbidden aspect of doing this at work, or if maybe it was just... Jack. She'd always wanted him, after all, and now she had him all to herself.

Oh, shut up, she told herself. For once, she decided to go with the flow and not over think things. Right now, she wanted to focus on Jack.

He was still staring at her, his gaze roaming over her body, his eyes so hot she could almost feel their path.

She moved restlessly under his gaze, wishing he'd do something, instead of just standing there and looking at her. She needed his touch. Despite the incredible climax, her body was still aching deep inside. She wanted more.

She wanted him.

"Jack," she whispered. "Please."

At the sound of her voice, he seemed to snap out of his trance. He reached down, unzipped his jeans, and shoved down his boxer briefs.

Anything she might have said trailed off as he caught her legs and pulled her gently toward the edge of the desk, bracing her legs flat up against his chest. She frowned at the somewhat awkward position. "You're going to do this standing up?"

Dark lust flickered in his eyes, but there was concern for her there as well. "The desk's hard. Don't want to smoosh you."

He was between her thighs and she was still lying on her back on the desk. Her ankles were over his shoulders and, with her legs spread wide, she felt very exposed. So much so that she couldn't quite repress a heated blush. He put his hands on her thighs, squeezing gently, caressing the skin, then pressed against her, a look of intense concentration on his face. Finally, she felt the tip of him slide into her. It felt amazing, and a spasm of need rocked her.

"Jack," she whispered throatily.

He closed his eyes, breathing hard and groaned, "God, Chloe."

He pushed into her a little further, and she moaned, putting her hands onto his and squeezing. "More," she pleaded.


Jack reveled in how good Chloe felt. Her body was soft and warm and slick and it felt like they'd been made for each other. He pressed into her slowly, carefully, making sure he wasn't pushing too hard, and in a moment he found himself buried to the hilt, deep inside her. Pleasure filled his veins with heat, and his chest felt so tight he could barely breathe.

He paused for a long moment, listening to the unsteady sound of their breathing and feeling the rapid beat of her heart. He dragged his eyelids open, even though they felt like they were weighted down with granite, and looked at her face, seeing her eyes closed, her head arched back, her face glowing with something akin to rapture. He wondered if it would always be like this or if the combination of denied attraction, exhaustion, need, stress and other factors were adding up to this.

They'd have to do extensive trials to test his theory.

Staring at her for long moments, he wanted to memorize the way she looked right now. She was so beautiful, flushed with life and passion, and he couldn't believe it had taken them this long to get to this point. After years of friendship, some fantasies and several months when there was just no time, he thought it was about damn time. Thank God she'd come to find him in his office. At least the door locked and no one dared intrude on his sanctuary, except Chloe that is.

Part of him wanted to freeze his right there and never move on, because this…this was perfect. This was peace. This was life. But at last he couldn't hold back any longer.

He pulled out of her very slowly, looking down as he did so. He wanted to watch their bodies move together as he thrust back into her, starting to make love to her in a steady, methodical rhythm.

This was what they wanted, needed, and the sensation of their bodies rocking together felt awesome, so good he couldn't stop himself from moaning and sighing. Sweat broke out on his skin, and he moved harder, faster, deeper.

He could feel her body clenching around him and she sobbed for breath, her hands clamping down on his, and then she was crying out again, almost wailing, her hips losing the rhythm and going wild against his.

"Chloe," he whispered harshly. "Oh, yes, Chloe, yes, yes..."

And then his words trailed off into inarticulate noises, frantic sounds that at a more sane moment he wouldn't have believed could come out of his mouth. His body shuddered as he climaxed, coming in an endless, hard burst of pleasure that wrenched a long cry from his chest, until his voice was hoarse from crying out, until his body shook violently and his hair was wet with sweat.

At last the ecstasy faded, and he became aware that his legs were trembling under him. Sinking into his desk chair, he pulled her into his lap and buried his face in her hair, still shaking.

"Chloe," he whispered again, pressing kisses against the top of her head. He felt like he ought to say something else, but he couldn't think of anything to say, because there was absolutely nothing in his mind beyond her name. There was nothing in his mind besides her.


How long they sat like that, bodies cooling and breaths slowing, Chloe didn't know, but it was nice. Jack's fingers played along her back, drawing abstract figures while she patted his chest, enjoying the friction of hair under her palm.

After a while he murmured, "Not the most romantic setting. Sorry."

She laughed into his shoulder. "We can try for romance next time, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan."

BAM! BAM!

The sound of someone banging on the door startled both of them and before Jack could shout some form of response, the person at the door spoke.

"Look, no one cares what's going on in there, but the room is not sound proof and you've traumatized the minions." It was Jo, who had apparently been released from Medical. "They've all fled and Hastings is hiding out in Medical, supposedly debriefing agents, but he's not fooling anyone. Just an FYI."

Exchanging looks of equal horror, embarrassment and amusement, Jack and Chloe fumbled for a response, before Jack managed. "Thanks for the info, Jo."

"No problem," she replied. "See ya tomorrow and, may I say, about damn time!"

After a moment, Chloe said, "I think we should take this home."

"I have no problem with that."

"Didn't think you would."


TBC………..

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