Washington, one week later

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Audrey glanced at the letter lying on her desk, and the folder beneath it. The seal of the Secretary of Defense embossed on the folder glinted faintly, a quiet marker of triumph. Inside, the official notice: the revised budget had been approved.

In the end, it had happened quickly. Almost too quickly for her to really enjoy her victory. They had given her just three days to sift through the sprawling 700-page document—every page a minefield of political agendas and financial subterfuge. But somehow, she'd done it. She'd navigated the labyrinth, defused the traps, and reshaped the proposal into something viable. And now it felt like a triumph. She could almost picture the chaos on the other side. Two days wasn't nearly enough for anyone to mount a proper opposition, and it seemed they hadn't even tried, because they hadn't expected her to defuse that many of their traps. Victory. Hard-won, but hers. A statement to anyone who was out there, thinking that Heller's new team was just a laughingstock. They weren't.

She turned the folder slightly, running a finger along its edge. No, not hers alone. There was no question in her mind that without Jack, this wouldn't have been possible. His sharp eye for operational expenses and his ability to spot discrepancies—things she would have never found—had been instrumental. And somehow, deep down, the success felt unearned without being able to acknowledge his contribution.

The folder's presence on her desk was also telling. It wasn't standard procedure to send such notices directly to her office. Her father must have arranged for his secretary to place it here today morning, a subtle acknowledgment of her work. A small gesture, but one that spoke volumes.

Audrey glanced at her phone, debating whether to send Jack a message. What would she even say? That the budget had passed? That their changes had been on point? That his expertise had proved invaluable? She sighed and set the phone down. No, of course she couldn't say any of that. Not over a regular phone line. They both knew better.

Still, it felt wrong to take full credit for their success while leaving him entirely out of the picture. She had sent him a brief thank-you two days ago—short, vague, carefully worded to be innocuous. If anyone was tapping into her phone communication, they wouldn't be able to tell apart if she'd been thanking him for a Christmas letter or for walking her dog. She'd hoped he would understand her message anyway. His reply had been equally polite, equally brief, as though they were two strangers exchanging pleasantries.

And that was it. Silence had settled between them, the kind that left that awful feeling in her stomach.

She stared at the phone again, her mind wandering. Where was he now? Was he still flying? Had he already reached the Keys? She hadn't even found the time to ask him last Friday, before they'd parted. And she couldn't ask him now, not without breaking the unspoken rules of their communication. Jack had insisted on keeping his renewed pilot's license a secret, and she knew why. He had lied to the FAA about his addiction, an omission that could cost him much, if anyone ever noticed. Flying again was his act of defiance, his way of reclaiming a piece of himself, even if lying to the FAA was reckless.

A faint smile tugged at her lips. Reckless was practically a defining trait for him. But even so, it was hard to reconcile the man she'd met thirteen weeks ago—the one she'd pulled into rehab—with the one who had flown halfway across the country and then changed all of his plans just to help her untangle a mess of corruption.

Fifteen weeks since he'd been to Washington DC the last time. It felt like a lifetime ago. So much had changed in between, so much had happened. She couldn't shake the memory of that night, fifteen weeks ago, the one she sometimes wished wouldn't have happened. The night she'd slept with him. But a part of her always kept thinking back.

Her cheeks warmed at the thought, though she was alone. God, why couldn't she stop thinking about it? Maybe because it had been one of the few times in her life when she'd done something entirely reckless. But thank God he hadn't pushed to repeat it. Not in Seattle. Not last week. It would have made everything more complicated than it already was.

Her eyes drifted to her phone again, this time to the message still waiting for her response. Paul. He had sent her another invitation—dinner, Friday night. He'd be back in town, as he always was, for just a few days before returning to London. She hadn't answered yet, and he was probably waiting.

Why had she even responded to his messages in the first place? She knew why. Loneliness. That gnawing ache that had crept into her life over the past few weeks, ever since Seattle. She had spent the better part of the past two years alone, yet she'd never felt this lonely before. Not until Jack. Not until Seattle, when he gave her back the secure phone.

The thought startled her, though she knew it was true. Those late-night calls with him had filled a void she hadn't even realized it still existed. For the first time in years, she hadn't felt alone. And then, when she'd taken the secure phone back from him, it was as though the calls had vanished into thin air, leaving behind a silence that was almost unbearable.

Paul had reached out, and she'd answered. Maybe because he was there. Maybe because he was safe, familiar. He was the next best thing to fill the emptiness Jack had left behind.

Audrey leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes for a moment. It was all so complicated, so tangled. Jack's voice echoed faintly in her mind, words he'd said almost as often as they'd talked about Paul: "It's not over until it's over." And yet she'd never thought it would be Jack, reminding her that her marriage somehow still existed.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. It wasn't Paul. It wasn't Jack. It was a calendar alert: her father had an opening at 10:30. She straightened her posture, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

With a glance at the folder on her desk, she steeled herself. There was no time to dwell on Paul, her marriage or for feeling lonely. For now, she'd just focus on her victory, hoping that it would drown out everything else.

And yet, as she reached for the folder, a small part of her couldn't help but wonder where Jack was at that very moment—and if he was thinking of her, too.

Audrey walked briskly through the long corridors of the Pentagon, the familiar hum of activity around her. As she approached the Secretary of Defense's office, the imposing double doors loomed before her. The guard stationed outside gave her a polite nod, stepping aside to let her through without a word. She knocked lightly and entered at her father's invitation.

Heller was seated at his desk, typing something into his computer, his posture as straight and commanding as ever. He glanced up and smiled, a rare expression of warmth that immediately eased some of her tension.

"Ah, Audrey," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Come in. Sit down."

She moved toward the chair opposite him, but before sitting, she handed him the folder. "I just wanted to thank you, Dad," she began, her voice steady but measured. "For the acknowledgment. It means a lot."

Heller took the folder but set it aside without opening it. "You earned it," he said firmly. "That revised budget—excellent work. The kind of work that doesn't just keep this department afloat but keeps us ahead."

Audrey hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. "I couldn't have done it alone," she admitted, carefully choosing her words. "Captain Bauer was a great help."

Heller's brow rose slightly, a knowing look crossing his features. "Captain Bauer," he repeated, his tone carrying a hint of dry amusement. "You mean 'Jack'? Where do you know him from?"

Audrey froze for the briefest moment. Her father wasn't a man to miss details, and she suddenly regretted being so formal about Jack's name. She forced a small smile, stammering slightly as she replied, "Yes, well, I met him… about a year ago, when I was still advising the Intelligence Committee. He was here in D.C. to finalize approval for an undercover mission."

Heller's expression didn't change, but his eyes sharpened slightly, studying her. "The Salazar cartel. Cordilla Virus. I read about that mission."

Audrey blinked, surprised. "You did?"

Heller cleared his throat and motioned toward the chair again. "Sit down, Audrey." She complied, smoothing her skirt as she perched on the edge of the seat, feeling his gaze on her.

"You did remarkable work on the budget," Heller began, his tone sincere. "I want you to know that. What I'm about to say isn't meant to diminish your success, but it's clear Captain Bauer played a role in the revisions."

Audrey nodded, her voice steady. "He did. His insight into operational expenses and field logistics was invaluable."

Heller leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in thought. "I spoke to Janice this morning," he said. "She mentioned Bauer's… history. That's why I looked into his file."

Audrey's stomach clenched. Of course, that bitch Janice had said something. She wasn't surprised, but she still felt a flash of irritation. "I've heard about the rumors," she said carefully, her voice measured. "I followed his work through the Intelligence Committee. His accomplishments in Mexico were remarkable, despite the challenges he faced."

"Challenges," Heller repeated, his tone neutral but probing. He turned his monitor slightly, revealing Jack's personnel file on the screen. Audrey's pulse quickened. She expected him to give her a lesson about the drug-abuse that he'd surely read about by now, a lesson about Jack being a liability, about anything.

"I looked into him," Heller said. "After Janice's comment, I wanted to be sure I understood who I was dealing with. Bauer has connections to David Palmer."

Audrey's brow furrowed, the revelation catching her off guard. Of all the possible things one could say about Jack, this was the one she had expected the least. And she hadn't even known that herself. "President Palmer?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. "I didn't know."

Heller nodded. "They worked together on several missions. Palmer trusted him, even vouched for him on more than one occasion. That kind of relationship isn't easily earned."

Audrey sat back slightly, her mind racing. She hadn't expected this. Jack had never mentioned Palmer or any connection to Washington politics or to any political party. It made her realize how little she truly knew about him, even after all their late-night conversations.

Heller's gaze returned to her, his tone steady but probing. "Do you have any reason to believe Bauer tried to influence the budget process in any way? For the other party's interests, perhaps?"

"No," Audrey replied immediately, her voice firm. "He was completely objective. Neutral."

Heller studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "Audrey, I'm considering offering him a position here."

Audrey's heart stopped. "A position?" she echoed, her voice faint.

"Our core team is still thin," Heller explained. "We need loyal people, and Bauer proved himself with this. But his ties to Palmer—and, frankly, his personal history—made me reconsider."

Audrey's mind reeled. The thought of Jack working here, alongside her, was almost too much to process. She fought to keep her expression neutral, though her voice betrayed her shock. "That's… your call, of course," she managed. "If you think he'd be an asset."

Heller nodded, his expression thoughtful. "It's not a decision I'm taking lightly. His loyalty, his reliability—they're not guarantees, especially if he's in cahoots with Palmer's people. That's why I wanted to get your perspective."

Audrey stood, smoothing her skirt again as she regained her composure. "I appreciate you asking, Dad," she said, her voice steady. "But ultimately, it's your decision."

Heller studied her for a moment longer before nodding. He had expected her to vouch for him, but she made no effort to do so. As he examined her face, he noticed how genuinely shocked she seemed after he mentioned the connection to Palmer. Perhaps Audrey knew Captain Bauer far less well than he had initially believed. "Thank you, Audrey. And again, excellent work on the budget."

Audrey gave a small smile, murmured her thanks, and quickly excused herself. As she walked back to her office, her mind raced. The idea of Jack working here, being part of her father's team, filled her with a mixture of emotions she couldn't untangle. Relief. Fear. Something else she didn't dare name.

By the time she reached her desk, her legs felt unsteady. She sat down, staring blankly at her computer screen. Her thoughts spiraled, the weight of her father's words pressing heavily on her chest.

And yet, beneath the chaos in her mind, one thought surfaced above all: what would Jack think of this? And what about David Palmer? Jack had never mentioned him. She was confused. Anyone else she knew would have mentioned it, even bragged about knowing the former President personally.

Audrey sat at her desk, her fingers lightly grazing the edge of her phone. The office around her was quiet, but her mind was anything but. Her father's words replayed over and over, looping endlessly like a haunting refrain.

"What's your perspective?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stared blankly at the stack of papers in front of her. She should have said something—anything. She should have spoken up, told him the truth about Jack. About his accomplishments, his courage, his unshakable loyalty. About how, despite everything, he was one of the most remarkable men she'd ever met.

But she hadn't.

The words had been there, trembling on the edge of her tongue, but they'd never made it out. Instead, she had stammered through a vague, neutral response, keeping her answers deliberately shallow, deliberately safe.

She knew exactly why.

If she had spoken up, if she had even hinted at the depth of her knowledge about Jack, it would have invited questions—questions she wasn't prepared to answer. Why did she know so much about him? Why could she speak to his character with such conviction? How did she know about his bravery, his loyalty, his perseverance?

She knew such much more about him. About the nightmares that haunted him. About the guilt he carried like a second skin. About the small moments of quiet kindness he showed when he thought no one was paying attention.

Her father wasn't a fool. He would have pieced it together in an instant. He'd already suspected something, hadn't he? The way he'd looked at her when she mentioned Bauer. The way his voice had dipped, just slightly, when he said Jack's name, hinting that he already knew they were on a first-name basis.

And if Heller thought for a moment that there was more to her relationship with Jack than she was letting on, what would he think? What would he say? Would he connect the dots between that name and the sudden spark of life she'd tried to hide? Would he think she was cheating on Paul?

Her stomach twisted at the thought. Her father had always liked Paul, always supported their marriage—even after it had begun to falter. Of course, he didn't know about the miscarriages. Or Paul's affair. She had carefully kept those details from him, glossing over the truth with vague reassurances. She didn't want him to know about the cracks in her life, the flaws in the carefully polished image she presented to the world.

She wanted to be the perfect daughter. The one who always smiled, always worked hard, always succeeded. The one who didn't get cheated on. The one who tried to mend her marriage, no matter what. The one who never faltered, no matter how heavy the burden.

Admitting the truth about Jack would shatter that image. It would uproot everything. And she couldn't risk it.

But God, it felt awful.

Her gaze drifted to the phone again, her fingers tightening slightly around the edge of her desk. Should she call Jack? Should she warn him, give him some kind of heads-up about what was happening here?

No. That would be cruel. Giving him hope when her father might already be deciding that hiring Jack Bauer wasn't worth the risk—that his past, his addiction, and his ties to Palmer made him too much of a liability. She couldn't do that to him.

But maybe she could go back to her father's office. Maybe she could vouch for Jack now, before it was too late.

She sat there, frozen in indecision. If she went back and spoke up for Jack, it could change everything. This job could be a lifeline for him—a chance to rebuild his life, to do work that mattered, work commensurate with his worth. Not some meaningless security job that would feel like an insult to a man like him. He'd mentioned it briefly, during their calls. The fate of some comrades who'd gotten lost in some menial job, slowly fading into nothingness. It was one of the things he feared as well.

And yet…

She couldn't. She couldn't vouch for him without exposing herself, without exposing their relation. Her father would see through her in an instant. He'd know there was more to the story, and he wouldn't stop until he uncovered it all.

The knot in her stomach twisted tighter, a suffocating weight that left her feeling sick. She leaned forward, pressing her elbows onto her desk and cradling her head in her hands. She felt trapped, torn between her loyalty to Jack and the fear of what standing up for him might cost her.

She thought about him—about the man who had flown across the country on short notice, who had stayed up all night poring over spreadsheets, who had never once complained, even when she knew he was exhausted. Even when he'd obviously seen on her screen that Paul called her. The man who had helped her succeed in a way she couldn't have done alone.

He deserved this job. He deserved better than what she was giving him.

But she couldn't do it. She couldn't uproot her life for him.

The guilt clawed at her, sharp and unrelenting. It was the kind of guilt she hadn't felt in years—not since the miscarriages, when she had blamed herself for not being strong enough, for not being good enough. And now, it was back, gnawing at her with a ferocity that left her breathless.

Audrey stared at the phone, her vision blurring slightly. There was only one way to make peace with this. But had to find a way to let it go.

But as she sat there, the knot in her stomach only grew tighter, a cruel reminder of the man she had left to fend for himself—while he didn't even know.