Hey everyone, sorry for the delay!!

Hope you enjoy and review if you have a minute!! Thoughts are in italics.

Tony was bending over, searching for his boxers so he could get up and make her an all famous Almeida breakfast, as he liked to refer it to. Suddenly felt a stinging smack across his ass. He turned around and saw Michelle looking up, trying hard to suppress her giggles.

"Sorry, it was just such an appealing target," she said, her eyes shining brightly.

"Yeah, well, so's your mouth," Tony replied, grabbing her around the waist and crushing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss that lasted for several long moments before they both pulled away breathlessly.

"Mmm…let's just quit and stay in bed forever."

"Don't tempt me baby."

She drove Tony to the airport, giving him last lingering goodbye kiss, causing a few stares their way.

Walking into work, looking up at Tony's office dreading the few days she had to be here without him, Chappelle motioned her over.

"A few months ago we got a lead on a small terrorist group based mainly in Russia. I want you to do the initial interrogation, read up on the file. That's all."

The men this guy worked for were mostly a small based group. Came over to America a few years ago. Mostly running drugs, some bio-chemicals for larger companies, but they were mules in compared to most of the guys they took down. The witnesses set to testify against then had gone missing three days ago. The only lead they had was this Damien.

She walked into the interview room, guy looked her up and down, but he had the look of a gutless man who would flip to avoid jail time.

"You have great legs."

Disgusting. After reading the things he and his bosses did to the woman and children who were going to testify made her sick.

"See, now I came in here thinking we could help each other. You're facing several felonies that could put you away for a long time, but you have some useful information that could help us get to your bosses. You were in a position to help yourself…" Michelle leaned in close to the table, getting a firm grip on his cold eyes.

"…Then you say something like that to pss me off." That was it. She had him, he was starting to crack.

She picked up her files and left the room, letting him think about the next 25 years in jail.

"Well you got to him. Guy like him is just a mover, probably a camel for the drugs they move. We'll give him a minute, but he'll give it up. Nice job." Jack admitted.

By the time Michelle returned, Jack had determined that the malevolent bastard Damien worked for inflicted most of the victims' injuries with his bare hands. With Damien's help, he also managed to establish the exact make and model of the baseball bat and the brand of pliers that had inflicted the more substantial damage, as well as the knife that eventually ended the victims' suffering.

Unfortunately, there was nothing distinctive about the weapons in question – the pliers could have been purchased from any DIY store, the knife was from a cheap kitchenware set that had almost sold out owing to its popularity, and the baseball bat seemed to be a fixture in every kid's backyard. In the absence of the elusive weapons themselves, tracing their origin was fruitless.

Trying not to be affected by the increasing sense of desperation that permeated every inch of CTU, Michelle was able to work up likely locations of where they held there operations. Jack had his whole task force interviewing everyone the men had ever come into contact with, but there were no connections, no witnesses, nothing. Every avenue became a cul-de-sac, and every dead end drove Michelle further towards the brink of despair.

It was 2am on Thursday morning when they finally got their breakthrough. Jack was sprinting towards his SUV within a matter of seconds, and Michelle was running right alongside him. The knowledge that they finally had the information they needed instantly eradicated the effects of chronic sleep deprivation. They finally had the 'where,' and that was a blessing they were more than willing to accept. Still, it was going to be a delicate operation, and dealing with an unknown entity made the situation even more volatile.

In hindsight, she realized the Agent guarding the door was trying to spare her a lifetime's worth of trauma by denying her access to the scene.

Then she realized the lifeless form of a woman and child, seeing the unspeakable horrors he had already endured. They were the first on call to testify. She was battered beyond all recognition, and her frail frame offered an excruciating insight into how much she had suffered prior to her death, but the innocent child she was holding still shone through the blood and the bruises. They were too late to offer him salvation.

We're too late. And the bastards are gone. Cleaned out before we even got here.

Michelle helped the team with the sweep. Nothing more than a few left over computers that they could try and pull information from, if everything wasn't already deleted. She knew she should wait, that he was busy, but she needed to hear his voice, just for a second. She pulled out her phone behind one of the cars.

"Yes hello, this is Michelle Dessler. I was just wondering if Tony Almeida is available." Her voice was about to fail her.

"I'm sorry Ms. Dessler but he's still in a meeting. Would you like me to leave a message?"

Damnit…Tony

"Um…Yeah just tell him to call me when he can…Ok thanks." Damnit Damnit Damnit.

The next thing she felt was Jack's hand on her arm, leading her into the van and taking her back to CTU.

Michelle's eyes welled with tears as she murmured an inaudible apology to the deceased boy's grandparents, before gazing up to the Heavens with an agonized expression that clearly begged the question, 'why?' She supposed that was because they no longer had to worry about catching the monster responsible for this atrocity.

She gave them a minute, trying to regain her composure as well. I need him.

She felt the vibration of her phone, looked at the caller ID. "Michelle it's me. I'm sorry I was in a meeting…Jack told me what happened."

Silence descended for a moment. "Maybe you should go home for the night Michelle."

"I don't want to go home Tony. I'm fine where I am. End of discussion." Michelle's tone was becoming increasingly terse.

"So you're just going to stay there and run yourself into the ground?" Tony demanded, ignoring the intensifying glint of annoyance in her voice.

"Look Tony, I'm really not in the mood to listen to your crap tonight, OK?"

The venom in her tone took Tony aback and, although her defenses were instantly riled, she couldn't stop tears from welling in her furious eyes. She blinked them back angrily, ignoring the tightness in her chest.

"Fine. I mean, I just want you to be ok." Tony looked down at the scattered papers on his desk, while on the other side of the phone Michelle gently rubbed the bags that were still sealed on her eyes.

"I just…." He added.

Michelle knew that tone. It was the kind of tone Tony adopted when he was trying desperately hard to make her feel better without losing it.

"Michelle… Hey."

"I'm sorry, OK? I'm in an awful mood and I shouldn't be taking it out on you. I'm just… mad… you know?" He could feel her exhaustion, and shook his head.

"Not at you. I'm mad at myself for letting that bastard get away. I still can't believe he got the jump on us like that." She trailed off, sighing. "I'm just not used to the bad guys getting one up on me, you know? And the only reason why I called you was because… I just needed to hear your voice you know?"

"I know. You don't know how much I want you here with me…I worry about you ya know?"

"I'm really fine. Look I have to go. Chappell's looking for me."

"Ok…I'll see you later ok. I love you Chelle."

"I know, I do to." Damnit. What the hell's wrong with me…Pull it together.

A few hours later Tony was slightly out of breath after negotiating the stairwell that led towards her apartment getting back from his trip; especially considering he was weighed down by a hefty wad of paperwork. Their caseload had been intense during the last few days, and he resented having to record their every move in an administrative capacity. Still, the forms had to be filled in, and there was no use trying to escape the inevitable.

Usually her bedroom door was closed, but this evening it had been left slightly ajar. After hearing her voice on the phone, even if she said she was ok, he could tell she was planning to spend the night in misery, hating herself.

"Michelle," he whispered hoarsely, trying to reign in his own emotions.

She visibly jumped, and he saw the terror and the anger in her anguished eyes when she realized there was no way of concealing the fact that she had been crying. Still, it didn't stop her from trying. She wiped furiously at her eyes, but it wasn't as easy to control the hitching breaths that persisted in plaguing her. She leapt up from the bed, turning away from him to examine her bookcase with swollen eyes that were incapable of focusing on anything. She wanted to tell him to get out, but she didn't trust her voice not to break in the process, so she maintained a vigil of silence, her back rigid with tension.

Still, his better judgment was, for once, overshadowed by something far more innate. Namely the need to convince this brilliant, beautiful woman that she wasn't alone in this world, even when she was being as difficult as he usually was. He just hoped his opinion mattered enough to make a difference.

"What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be back until tomorrow." she whispered, looking genuinely terrified when he gently laid his hands against the curve of her waist.

"Hugging you," Tony stated matter-of-factly, pulling his lover into his arms and steadfastly ignoring her protests as he engulfed her in a warm - but not remotely oppressive - embrace.

Michelle stiffened as her chest was unwillingly melded against his well-defined torso, and her back went rigid when Tony began to trace comforting circles against the fabric of her sweater.

"Don't," she pleaded, but he merely laced his fingers through her hair in response, caressing the nape of her neck with his calloused thumb and easing her head downwards until it was settled comfortably against the crook of his shoulder. She fought half-heartedly against his tender ministrations, but Tony just pulled her even closer still, and the primal part of her that was crying out for comfort couldn't ignore how desperately she was craving him.

"It's ok," Tony whispered into her hair, and it took several minutes before she finally obliged. Her taut posture slackened, and she tentatively wrapped her arms around his toned midsection, sinking into Tony's embrace and allowing him to bear some of her weight.

"I'm so sorry, Michelle," he whispered, his own voice dangerously unsteady. "I'm sorry that this ever happened to you, and I'm sorry I didn't realize how much you were hurting."

"It's n-not your f-fault," Michelle stuttered, barely coherently, and Tony tightened his grip on her, clasping her waist with one hand and smoothing back her silken hair with the other.

"I'm still sorry" he ventured, pulling back slightly to examine her expression.

They lay in their bed for a long time, him on his stomach with her stretched out on top of him.

"The bed smells like us." Her voice was deep with longing and he looked up at her, laying in the dark, in their bed, in one of his t-shirts and a pair of silky underwear, snuggled down in the covers, her hair across the pillow, her body warm with sleep and desire.

"Sorry about the phone call," she finally spoke, reiterating what she'd said earlier.

Tony grinned. "Well that's kind of what I like about you, Michelle. You're a feisty little thing, and you keep me on my toes."

Michelle raised her eyebrows, an expression of offend clouding her features. "Did you just say 'little?"

"Yeah, well, you know. You're actually kind of scrawny," Tony teased, heedless of the repercussions. He had quickly noted that Michelle's curves were in all the right places, but he had still been surprised at how delicate his girlfriend had felt in his arms. It was a strange dichotomy, as he had never anticipated that someone so strong could be so fragile. His laughter, however, promptly abated when Michelle's arms poked his side.

"You're trouble," Michelle mocked, the twinkle gradually returning to her eyes. "Would you like me to demonstrate what else my 'scrawny little ass' is capable of?"

"Well I do love your ass," Tony reminded her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Tony!" Against her better judgment, Michelle started to laugh, and she only stopped when she realized that Tony wasn't joining in. She met his gaze quizzically, only to find him staring at her with such intensity that she briefly lost the power of speech. "What?" she eventually demanded, slightly unnerved.

"Nothing," Tony instinctively replied, although he knew he would have to elaborate when he saw Michelle's expectant expression evolve into an impenetrable mask, and her mirth-filled eyes become guarded. "I was just thinking, you know, when you laugh… you look… really… um… beautif… pretty," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I mean, it's just nice to see you smile, you know, after before."

"Come on." Michelle stated, grabbing on his shirt and pulling him to the bathroom.

"What are we doing?"

"We are going to wash this whole day away," she declared reaching for the knob that produced the warmest steam, and grabbing onto the belt of his pants.

Next Chapter: Tony's "Day from hell"