I Can't See Me Loving Nobody But You

“You look beautiful.” Jack mused.

Audrey blushed a little, looking up from the papers she was reading to face him. “You think?”

He smiled and walked over to where she was standing, lifting her chin towards him and kissing her softly.

“Yeah, I don’t think anybody’s going to be looking at your dad tonight.”

She couldn’t help but smile against him as she returned the kiss. He didn’t smile often, so when he did, Audrey knew it meant he was truly happy. Audrey was also sure, to her pride, that he seemed to smile the most when he was with her. It was hard to believe it had been almost a decade since they’d gotten together. Initially, she hadn’t thought much of the rather serious former CTU agent who’d come on board as an aide for her father. She’d been sceptical of how he’d ended up in a stuffy office job in DC, based on what she'd heard about him.

But Jack had proven himself effective and loyal to her father, and slowly, he’d opened up a little more. Audrey could still recall the first time she’d had a moment alone with him that wasn’t at work; it had been a campaign event for President Keeler. And while she’d spent the first part of the evening mingling, making sure she caught up with the people her father had implored that she had to see, lest there be dire public relations consequences for him, at some point, she’d found herself slipping away to the bar. It hadn’t surprised her that she'd found Jack quietly nursing a glass of scotch whilst eyeing out the room. It hadn't been his scene. It still wasn't, really. And, in all honesty, it was only hers because it had to be. So, Audrey had slid into the chair next to him and ordered herself a drink, too.

What had started as small talk had soon grown deeper. She’d mentioned just how many of these events she’d been forced to sit through. Her father’s political career had been, and still was, such a prominent part of her life. No matter what she’d wanted to do, their family had had to keep up appearances and attend party upon party for as long as she could remember. Of course, she’d gotten used to it. Enjoyed it, too, finding herself studying public policy in college, knowing, at the very least, getting a job in the field wouldn’t be hard. 

Contrary to popular belief, though, there was more to Audrey Heller than politics. 

And as Jack had realised this, he’d started to talk about his past as well. It had meant a lot to her. After all, his past was anything but simple. But she’d heard him out. She hadn’t judged. She hadn’t pried. She’d just listened to him and respected him. And as people had started to leave, as time had progressed, she’d felt her heart flutter when she realised a lightness had come over him after he’d spoken to her. One thing had led to another, and they’d shown their appreciation for each other a little more physically in a supply closet of the function centre. 

There’d been dates after that, at first, in secret - after all, she’d only separated from Paul somewhat recently. But eventually, they’d divorced because she’d known that she and Jack weren’t just casual anymore. They’d continued working together, gotten married - well, eloped because God knows how many guests would have been on that list - and things couldn’t be better for either of them. The same went for Audrey’s father, who, with the help of her and Jack, was now a serious contender for President of the United States. Which is what tonight was about. A last-minute campaign as people went to the polls in the coming days.

In a way, tonight wasn’t going to be very different to the night they’d gotten to know each other better. She would need to rub shoulders with the right people, people who could prove to be assets in helping her father win the election, but at least she’d be with Jack for most of it this time. Otherwise, he’d likely be checking in with tonight's elevated security team. His knowledge there was certainly a useful application of his former CTU agent skills.

Audrey perused the guest list one last time, making note of who she needed to prioritise seeing. He watched her bite her lip, flicking back and forth between two pages.

“I just noticed something.”

“Yeah?”

“The restaurant that's catering tonight… it’s Tony Almeida’s, right? You wanted him flown in from Chicago. So, he’ll be here.”

Jack furrowed his brow. “Yeah?”

“But because everyone from CTU Headquarters here in DC was invited… so will Michelle Dessler.” She grimaced. “As in… his ex-wife?”

He paused, tilting his head a little. 

“Shit. I didn’t think about that.” Jack muttered. “I mean, in theory… they shouldn’t see each other. He’s not going to be serving the food.”

“Let’s hope so.” Audrey sighed.

He stood up, facing her. “Even if they do somehow see each other, it’s been almost nine years since their divorce was finalised. They’re adults. I’m sure they’re capable of standing in the same room together.”

“I guess.”

“It’ll be fine.” Jack placed his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry about that. You just worry about your speech and enjoying yourself. Your father can campaign for himself for once.”

The smile returned, and she took one last opportunity to kiss him again before straightening his tie a little. Audrey sighed. “Ready?”

Jack scoffed. “As I’ll ever be.”

She always hated these events.

Although Michelle loved working in DC and truly felt fulfilled in her career, the political parties and events she was often made to attend, either as a guest, an extra security team member, or, in tonight’s case, both, were often too much. She was forced to endure conversations with people, often those who liked to tell her they knew more about her job than she did and network with key members of other agencies in the hopes of them being more cooperative in future, all while keeping in mind that if something happened to harm a person of significance, she would have to respond immediately.

Tonight seemed no different.

While she’d been happy to see Jack and Audrey - probably the only people in the room she could have a normal conversation with - their chat had understandably been brief. It also didn’t help that she was exhausted, still recovering from an all-nighter she'd pulled for a bomb threat a few days ago. Despite her request to take leave, the fact that tonight was about Heller meant she couldn’t. Michelle was getting to her wit’s end. There were more people in attendance than before, but even though the hotel function room was huge, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Everything was too loud, too bright, just too much for her to handle.

Quietly, Michelle slipped away through a maintenance door towards the back of the building, immediately finding the cool night air refreshing as she inhaled it deeply. She was a little cold, having left her coat, but right now, she simply stood with her eyes closed, desperate to steady herself. All she could hear now was the faint sound of traffic and some chatter from what she inferred was probably the kitchen. There’d been cocktail food on offer all night; even though it smelt divine, almost to the point of familiarity, she’d been too anxious to bring herself to eat without fear of it all coming back up again. Other than a Secret Service agent who walked past and paid her no mind, she was alone with her thoughts. 

The sound of a door swinging open jolted her out of her spiral. Before the wind slammed the door shut, she heard amplified sounds of clattering pots and yelling. The person who’d come out to join her grumbled and cursed in what sounded like Spanish, and she furrowed her brow, realising the tone of their voice wasn’t unknown to her. As Michelle turned around, the first thing she noticed was the chef’s uniform, complete with a greasy tea towel slung over his shoulder, and that his hair was a little longer. It wasn't to the point of having to tie it up, but like he’d had it before prison. The image of him with a buzzcut had been permanently burned into her memories. She’d forgotten how much longer hair softened his appearance. 

When his eyes met hers, equally as stunned, she found herself at a loss for words. 

She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about him in the years since their split. Initially, with resentment, but at some point, it had evolved into something of longing. She’d find herself wondering what could have been. She'd wondered if both of them could have scored a job at Langley and started a family if he’d never gone to prison or if they could have worked things out even though he had. But it was painful, so painful, to think about because no matter how much she sat there and mulled it over, the reality was it wasn’t going to happen. They’d gone their separate ways, doing, by the looks of it, very different things. Despite having the most detailed government databases at her disposal, she hadn’t ever looked into his profile. She hadn’t wanted to because she’d known the only way she could ever manage to get over him was to make sure she kept herself otherwise occupied. 

So, more than anything right now, she was confused.

“Michelle?”

Her head shook a little, jolting herself out of her stupor.

“H… Hi.”

He couldn’t even process that he was seeing her after all this time because it was plain in her eyes that she was out here alone for a reason. Michelle was hugging her arms around herself because she was cold, anxious, or perhaps a bit of both. Her hair, longer and straighter than the last time he’d seen it, was moving in the wind. The burgundy dress she wore made her look so beautiful, but the urge to tell her that was being swallowed by the urge to protect her, to make sure she was okay. He had never felt that urge with anybody else. Even through their divorce, even all these years later, he cared about her. In fact, it was because he cared about her that he’d pushed her away. It was because he’d wanted nothing more than for her to be happy, and he’d known he wouldn't be able to make that happen. That protective instinct was so deeply rooted in him he didn’t even think about how she might react as he approached her.

“Are you okay?” 

Michelle cleared her throat, but her voice was still a little weak. “Y-Yeah. Just getting some air.” 

Her chest felt like it might explode. She didn’t need this. She couldn’t deal with this now. There was a job to do. Protect James Heller and his family, and she wasn’t going to be able to do that job standing awkwardly in front of her ex-husband. He didn’t seem upset or to be pushing her away, even though she felt he had every right to do so. But still, what was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? Suddenly, inside the hotel seemed like a better place to be. 

“I-I should go,” Michelle said, taking care to avoid looking him in the eyes.

Before he could speak, Tony immediately noticed she was unsteady on her feet as she went to walk back. He could see she looked quite pale, not necessarily sick, just exhausted. He knew that look all too well. The first time he’d seen it had been in the early days of CTU, when she’d pushed herself too hard, too soon after the day of the CTU bombing. She’d nearly passed out walking to her car, and he’d realised that through her grief and fatigue, the concepts of food, water, and sleep had been lost on her. That night had been the first time he’d cooked for her. While the thought of her not taking care of herself was worrying, that memory was still so fond to him and so similar to what he was seeing now. He’d heard about the attacks from a few days ago. They had caused his flight to DC to be delayed, and he was guessing she was a guest tonight because she was still in a line of work where that would be relevant for her. 

So, Tony grabbed a nearby milk crate, guiding her to sit before she collapsed. He knelt in front of her, not wanting to invade her space but knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to hear her very well over the wind if he was too far away, either. “When was the last time you ate something?”

Tiredly, Michelle sighed, putting her head between her knees. “This morning… I-I think?”

“Let me get you something, okay?”

“Y-You don’t have to...”

But by the time she finished saying that, he’d already left.

Tony returned with a bottle of water and a plate full of appetisers, his gaze concerned. Michelle thanked him quietly, now realising the smell and taste were definitely triggering something for her; something pleasant, but at the same time, distant, like she had to dig deep into her memories to figure out what it was. But when she did, it hit her all at once, creating a sensation of warmth inside her.

“You… you cooked this, didn’t you?”

Tony chuckled sheepishly. “I did.”

Her brow furrowed a little.

“Jack wanted my restaurant to cater tonight.”

“Wait… restaurant?”

He nodded. “I started it when I moved back to Chicago about six years ago. It took me a while to get on my feet, but an opportunity came up, then one thing led to another, and… here I am.”

“Catering for Senator Heller will put you on the map then. That’s… that’s great, really great. I’m happy for you.”

Tony smiled at that. She could tell he was trying to hide the fact that he was practically beaming. More than that, she hadn’t seen him that passionate about anything in a very long time. It was hard to believe the man sitting in front of her was the same man she’d left almost nine years ago. There was a lightness about him. He seemed... content, like he was doing things with his life that made him happy, that gave him purpose. He’d moved on. He was happy because… he wasn’t with her. She wondered why he was going to all this trouble for her tonight. She was confused about why he wasn’t giving her the cold shoulder.

At the same time, Tony watched Michelle look a little less anxious as she ate the food. He couldn’t believe what he was doing. They’d barely spoken two words to each other, but because he noticed something was off, he’d immediately done everything in his power to help her. He had to wonder if he’d overstepped his boundaries a little, not that he would have left her alone if she was a total stranger, but the way they were simply talking as though nothing had happened. Did she really want this? Were her thoughts just being clouded by her gratitude at this moment? She wasn’t thinking straight, surely. She didn’t need him. She had a career. She had everything she wanted. 

Michelle rose from the milk crate, adjusting her dress as she stood. “Thank you for that. I… I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged. “It’s no problem.”

Their eyes met briefly, and a lump formed in her throat. She wanted to slap herself. Why was she reacting like this? He was her ex-husband. Ex. They were over. They’d been over for almost ten years. And yet, because he’d cooked for her and paid enough attention to her to notice that she wasn’t feeling well, she suddenly felt transported back in time. Memories she didn’t want to think about, not because they weren’t pleasant, but because their pleasantness made her heart hurt, were rising to the surface. He had just done this out of human decency. He couldn’t possibly feel that way about her anymore. Why else would he have treated her the way he had all those years ago?

“Wait…” Tony said as she turned away and went to walk back. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to try and initiate a conversation with her again. He was looking for an excuse to talk to her. He was sure he looked pathetic standing there desperately trying to stall. “I just… I just wanted to say it was nice seeing you. You… you look good. And since I’m guessing you’re here for work… that means you’re probably doing something incredible. I’m happy for you, too.”

Michelle still wasn’t facing him, so he couldn’t see her squeeze her eyes shut from hearing the authenticity in his voice. She didn’t know how to respond to that. What would be too much? What would sound cold? So she simply mustered her courage and turned to give him a small smile, just as he had to her. He nodded in acknowledgement, and Michelle left before he could say another word. Walking back into the function room, she found a couple of her work friends to talk to, hoping that her interaction with Tony would fade from her mind.

It didn't; Michelle found herself slinking to the bar in the back corner of the room, knowing she would likely have to sit for the speeches soon. Tomorrow, people all over the country will head to the polls. If Heller played his cards right, within a few days, he could very well be calling himself the president-elect. She sighed, sipping the glass of red wine in front of her, finally feeling as though things were calming down. It was so quiet she could hear someone sit and order a few stools down from her. Immediately, she perked up at the sound of the voice. Turning her head, she saw him sitting, a glass of something dark in front of him. Was he doing it on purpose? As if it was enough to see him tonight, now she had to see him at a bar. She wondered if it was her fault. He’d started drinking because of her, right? It only made sense that she would be the reason he stopped whatever work he was doing -- work that she knew he loved and cared about -- to throw it all away.

He could see her looking at him with some combination of disappointment and concern. He was already nervous about being at a bar, keeping that small voice inside his head very quiet and not giving it any power, so he hadn’t even clicked she was there until their eyes met. Tony realised exactly what she was thinking; he couldn’t blame her. But she needed to know that it wasn’t what it seemed. Not because he needed the validation but because he couldn’t stand the thought of her worrying about that, about him. So, even though he was already being stared at since the utility jacket he’d thrown over his work clothes could hardly be considered formal attire, he made his way to the seat next to her. She looked away.

“It’s Coke. It’s just Coke-”

“I-I don’t need to know. It’s your life. It’s none of my bus-”

“N-No, Michelle.” He gently placed his hand on her bicep. “I’m… I’m five years sober. I swear.”

Slowly, she tilted her head to look at him, his eyes earnestly pleading her to believe him. “Really?” She whispered.

He nodded. “I… I need you to know that. And I need you to know that I’m sorry for doing that to you, for pushing you away.”

She felt tears prick the back of her eyes. He was apologising for that now? It was too late. It was far, far too late for that to change things. They had moved on. They had found a way to live their lives without each other, so why was he doing this?

“I don’t ever want to be like that again. I hate myself for letting it get that bad. I hate that it made me lose-” He forced himself to swallow his words, despite how much he wanted to say that losing her was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. “I hate that it made me lose sight of what’s important.”

Tony watched her open her mouth to say something, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. 

“You don’t need to say anything, Michelle.” He said, voice weakening. “I’m sorry for all of this. I know I’m probably the last person you wanted to see tonight. I just… I just had to tell you I’m not who I was all those years ago, alright?”

He felt like an idiot now. He’d just strode over to his ex-wife in the middle of a bar at one of the most prestigious events in DC and desperately tried to implore her that he was a better person now. What exactly was that going to achieve? She probably had barely thought about him. She was the one who left him, so why in God’s name would she care if he was still drinking now?

As the emcee started to speak and introduce Heller, Tony watched Jack and Audrey take their seats at the rear of the stage behind the podium. He watched the way Jack's arm was subtly wrapped around hers and how he took her purse as she sat. Even from far away, Tony could swear Jack had cracked a smile at whatever Audrey had whispered to him. He was so happy for Jack, so glad he’d found someone who made the world seem a little brighter despite all the darkness in his past.

When he glanced at Michelle beside him, the tip of her finger placidly tracing the rim of her glass, lips pressed together, her expression troubled, he felt a pang in his chest because he knew it was his fault. It was his fault they could barely make eye contact with each other. It was his fault that his mere presence seemed to overwhelm her. Most of all, it was his fault for letting it get so bad in the first place.

But it was too late to change any of that.

They were over. They’d been over for far too long for fixing things to be feasible. 

Even if they weren’t with her tonight, he was sure she had somebody making her happy or could easily find somebody to make her happy.

Tony just hated knowing that if it wasn’t for the choices he’d made, that person could have been him.

It should have been him.

The room was silent as Heller had taken to the podium and started his speech. Tony decided to cease pathetically explaining himself to Michelle and found himself observing the room. It was a habit that had never died, even though he hadn’t been an active agent in a very long time. He kept fixating on the bartender. Although he didn’t look suspicious, simply clearing the glasses and looking up at Heller, Tony knew better than to ignore his gut. The bartender moved away slightly, out of earshot, and Tony subtly followed under the guise of going back outside. He watched as the bartender discreetly pulled out a radio, pausing to look around as if checking nobody was watching him. Tony quickly turned his head when he glanced in his direction but continued to listen.

“The target is in position.” He uttered. “Move in on my signal.” 

Tony’s ears perked up at that. The bartender was either a disguised agent, and they were running some kind of covert operation tonight, or they weren’t on the side of the law. If it was the former, then why wasn’t Michelle involved? She was one of the leaders of national security in this country. He looked over at her; her lips weren’t moving, and he didn’t think she was wearing an earpiece. Tony’s gut started to churn.

Something was going to happen. 

“You’ve only got one shot. All hell will break loose once you fire.” The bartender warned. “So make sure you hit Heller, got it?”

Whoever he was talking to was obviously pointing a weapon at the stage. There was no good way to tell who might be involved in this room. The angled shape of the bar meant that he could see the butt of a gun under the counter. It certainly wasn't a small handgun that could arguably be for personal use only. No, if he was right about the model, it had a decent range, and the bar had a direct line of sight to the stage. Tony was surprised he’d made it past security. Unless, of course, he hadn’t been checked as thoroughly since he was a member of the hotel staff. Looking around, some of the servers in the bar, not anybody he’d brought along from his restaurant, seemed to be standing in somewhat strategic positions, blocking off exits and putting down whatever they were holding.

Tony resumed his seat swiftly. “Michelle, get down.” He uttered quietly.

“What?” She whispered, turning back to him.

His eyes flickered back to the bartender; he was reaching for the shelf now.

There was no time to explain.

In one swift motion, he pulled her to the ground as the first bullets fired, shielding her with his body. People started to scream, and he could hear glass smashing. He gauged there were multiple shooters. Tony pulled back just enough to look at Michelle but kept his head down to protect himself, gasping as he saw a splash of deep red across her neck and collarbone. 

“Michelle, you’re bleeding!” Tony said urgently.

She looked back at him, wide-eyed, still trying to process what had happened. Her hand went to the stained skin, but judging by the pungent smell, she knew he was wrong and shook her head vehemently.

“I-It’s just wine. I’m okay.”

His sigh of relief was hot against her chest as she moved beneath him. Michelle lifted the hem of her dress and slid a pistol out from her garter, passing it to him, to his bewilderment.

“What about you?”

She peered behind him before fumbling and reaching somewhere alongside her for her bag, pulling out a slightly smaller gun and showing it to him. “We've got shooters at ten and two.”

Nodding, he shifted so she could roll out from under him. She took aim and fired immediately, and he took the sounds of two people crying out in pain as his cue to join her. They took cover behind the corner of the bar, old instincts kicking in without him even consciously realising. They communicated with each other without hesitation, feeling as though they knew what the other was thinking before they said it. Everything then felt deafeningly silent as the pattering of gunshots faded out, and they confirmed they’d taken out all the hostiles in their area.

They looked around themselves one last time, dusting off debris from the ground. A few security guards and agents had come in to start administering first aid and triaging. The medics would be on the way. Based on his quick scan of the room, people were shaken up and mildly injured, but nobody seemed to have been shot.

“You alright?” Tony asked.

Michelle nodded. “You?” 

His eyes fell to a stream of crimson trailing from under his sleeve to his palm; it looked brighter than the wine on her skin had been. He could see tiny shards of glass embedded in his palm from when they’d crawled into their cover position. Tony tenderly rolled up his sleeve, and there was a much larger fragment stuck in his forearm.

Walking closer to him, she grabbed some clean napkins from the bar to staunch the bleeding and called over one of the medics who had just arrived.

“It’s fine-”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “There’s glass sticking out of you.”

The medic started to stitch and bandage his arm efficiently. “I’ve had worse.” He shrugged, smiling a little as she glared at him.

Before Michelle could respond, she heard someone call her name from behind. She turned to see the head of field ops from CTU Headquarters. “Agent Dessler?”

She turned to face her. “Agent Austen. What’s the status of the president?”

The agent grimaced. “Senator Heller is safe, but his daughter, Audrey, took a bullet. She’s been rushed to surgery.”

“Where was she hit?”

“I couldn’t tell. From what I heard, it was near her collarbone, but there was a lot of blood. It might have hit an artery.”

Michelle could hear Tony curse under his breath at the same time as her. “Any civilian injuries or fatalities?”

Agent Austen shook her head. “No, just some bumps and bruises. It looks like you managed to hold down the fort here, too.”

“Well, I, uh, had help. It was a good thing I brought a second gun tonight.” 

She peered behind Michelle, a mix of surprise and commendation on her face. “Tony Almeida? As in-?”

“Yeah.” He nodded slightly awkwardly.

“We’ve locked down the hotel. We’re going to take statements and do debriefs here. Some of the analysts are on their way, but we’ve got a few computers for now.” The agent passed her a laptop. “It’ll take a while, though. I imagine half the government payroll will be staying here tonight.”

“We’ll start here then,” Tony said.

Michelle furrowed her brow. “Tony, you don’t have to-”

He shrugged. “Not like I’ve got anything better to do. Plus, I was here probably earlier than anybody else because we were prepping. I can probably pick out some of the staff.” Tony couldn’t tell if she was receptive to his offer. “Unless…” He scratched the back of his head, looking away. “I mean, if you want me to stay out of the investigation, that’s fine-”

“No, no, I… I want you to help.” She said earnestly. “We need all hands on deck. It was an inside job that we didn’t see coming, and you have years of experience with this."

He laughed through his nose. “Years from a lifetime ago.”

She smiled with encouragement. “You'll remember everything in no time. Come on, let’s get to work.”

As expected, it took several hours to get through interviewing and occasionally interrogating every last guest and staff member of the hotel. Eventually, they’d made arrests, found some evidence of the plan to assassinate Heller and handed it off to the analysts back at the CTU headquarters. There was no news on Audrey’s condition, to their worry. However, for now, CTU and every other government agency in the hotel had done what they could. It was the early hours of the following day, but nobody could leave yet, nor was there a point if many of them would have to report back at the crack of dawn. The assassination attempt had been no small feat, so the government couldn’t be certain how long this plan had been in development, how many perpetrators there were, or if there were plans for further attacks. So, given they were already in a hotel, most agents were frantically trying to obtain a vacant room.

Being one of the directors, Michelle had been one of the last to make her way to the front desk. Judging by the grimace on the receptionist’s face, she figured she wasn’t getting a bed tonight.

“I’m sorry, the last room was just given to a couple of FBI agents.” He pointed to where an elevator was opening. 

Michelle glanced over to see a red-headed woman whose arm was entwined with a taller man's. Her body seemed to be practically swimming in the oversized coat that she presumed was his. She saw her whisper something to him, and he laughed, a laugh so hearty, so genuine, so happy despite the circumstances. As the doors shut, he leaned down to kiss her, and Michelle figured that they weren’t just 'colleagues' being forced to share a room. Two government agents who’d fallen in love and managed to make it work. Good for them, she supposed. Just because it hadn’t worked out for her, that didn’t mean she didn’t give credit to anybody else who tried.

But for now, she had nowhere to go. She wasn’t quite tired; something about the latent adrenaline from everything that had happened was keeping her buzzed. Still, she wanted to sit down and rest her body for a bit.

“Michelle?”

Turning around, she found Tony looking equally exhausted, but somewhere in there, there was a flash of pride. Despite the stress of it all, she had to admit working with him again had been enjoyable, or at least just felt easy. Even all these years apart, they still seemed to know what the other was thinking before they said anything. They’d worked through profiles faster than anybody else had managed in the same amount of time. Slipping back into their old habits had been so seamless that she’d almost forgotten the heartache from seeing him earlier in the night.

“Did you manage to get a room?”

She shook her head. “Just missed out, apparently. It’s fine. I’m sure there’s a… couch somewhere.”

“I… I don’t mean to be forward, but I already have a room here. I figured it made sense for me to stay at the place I was catering for. You can stay with me.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

He shrugged. “It’s no trouble.”

“But what about you? Where will you sleep?”

“There’s a foldout sofa. You can have the bed, and I’ll sleep there.”

Michelle tilted her head. “Tony…”

“By the time you find somewhere else, it’ll be morning, and CTU will probably want you back here. It’s really not a problem, Michelle."

She sighed, but he could see she was grateful. “Okay… fine. I owe you not just for this but for everything else. You didn’t have to do any of it, but you did, and I… I really appreciate it.”

The corners of his mouth turned up a little. “Like I said, it’s no trouble.”

They went up to his room, and he let her freshen up first. He had packed pyjamas, so he let her have the hotel bathrobe, not that it was an entire outfit per se, but it was better than sleeping in the dress she’d worn all night. Despite the pathetic pressure of the shower head, it felt divine, like the first moment of peace after such a catastrophe of an evening. She took her hair down from having it tied half up, scrubbed the wine off her skin, finding it incredibly sticky and still pungent and then washed her face. When she came out, the small television was playing quietly, and he was sitting on the edge of the now folded-out sofa, the first few buttons on his shirt undone.

“No word yet on the condition of Audrey Heller...” The newscaster said.

“God, poor Jack…” Michelle whispered. “He must be so worried.”

He pivoted slightly to look at her and felt a pang of fondness for her upon seeing her with her hair down and makeup off. “I’m sure she’ll pull through.”

Michelle lifted her shoulders. “Still… I know what it’s like to wait for news like that.” Her eyes fell to his neck. She found the scar and felt her entire body shiver. Even all these years later, it still triggered such a strong memory for her. The mattress creaked slightly when she sat on the bed, noting he’d already pulled back the covers for her. 

His gaze met hers, and he saw nothing but pain there. Tony decided to get up and take his shower before he would let that expression bring up old memories and pain for him, too. He rummaged around the hotel’s complimentary toiletries for a plastic bag so he wouldn’t get the wrap on his arm wet. Quietly, he tiptoed back into the room afterwards, thinking she’d gone to sleep. But to his surprise, Michelle hadn’t moved from the bed, her eyes staring blankly at the news footage outside the hospital where Audrey was. 

“You okay?” Tony asked, grabbing the remote and switching the television off before kneeling in front of her. 

She didn’t respond immediately, but when she did, her voice sounded as tired as she surely felt. “It… it just happened so fast.”

Tony was almost confused. Of course, it was understandable for her to be worried, but she’d known it was at least a little likely that something like this would have happened tonight. She worked at CTU. They would have prepared for it somewhat. And more than that, they’d done things to help stop anything else from happening. She’d worked in defence for nearly two decades now. This wasn’t her first assassination rodeo. So, why was she so upset right now?

“Michelle… Audrey’s going to be fine." He reassured. "You’re exhausted. Just try to get some sleep, okay?”

She sniffled. “That could have been Jack. That could have been me. That could have been you or anybody else in the hotel tonight." She started speaking more rapidly, the way she always did when she was anxious. "It could have hit her in the head, or the chest, or somewhere that wouldn’t have given her a chance to fight. There could have been more shooters, there-” 

“I’m sure she knew the risk tonight. It’s part of being in that position. She’s got Jack there. I know you’re friends, but-”

Michelle shook her head, and he realised when she looked down at him that her eyes were welled with tears. “This isn’t just about Audrey.”

He furrowed his brow.

“What happened to us? We’re so lucky to be alive right now. We used to cherish every moment because we knew it could all disappear. So how did we go from having everything we ever wanted to…” Her voice broke. “Barely being able to look each other in the eye? All because of one day? We let one day tear us apart?”

That was something he hadn’t expected her to say. Was he hearing her properly? She couldn’t possibly be talking about them like this, like she… regretted leaving him. Michelle wasn’t the kind of person to do things rashly. She’d held out for a long time while he’d slipped further and further into his addiction. He hadn’t blamed her for it. This made no sense.

“You’re tired, and you’re not thinking straight." He pointed out. "You left me for a reason, a very good reason. Don’t let seeing me tonight make you doubt-”

“N-No. I haven’t just… felt this way because of tonight.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she spoke before he could.

“L-Look. I don’t deny that we needed some time apart. We needed to figure out what we wanted, and we needed to take care of ourselves. But now we have.” She wiped a tear from under her eyes. “You have something that brings you joy, something that you feel passionate about. I have a job I love, and it's the product of everything I’ve ever worked for. At first, I didn’t think I needed it, but over time… I’ve realised that I do want someone in my life. But I haven’t been able to find what we had with anybody else.” 

“What…. what are you saying, Michelle?”

She couldn’t read his expression and felt her gut sink. But she’d already started to spiral, pouring her heart out to him, and couldn’t stop herself. What if he already had someone back in Chicago? She hadn’t even asked him about that. What if she was just making things difficult for him, and now he’d have to leave with the image of his desperate, babbling ex-wife plaguing his mind? She’d been naive tonight, stupid, even, to think that him being nice to her was some sign that he felt the same way. Adults didn’t pine over people they’d divorced. They moved on. But at the time, she’d felt like divorce was the only option she’d had. She'd believed nothing would change otherwise and that she was just dragging him down. She'd done it for their own good. He’d started drinking because of her, anyway. It had been logical to think that leaving him was the only way they’d both heal. Surely, that meant he was better off without her. God… what was she doing?

“I’m saying that I’ve missed you so much. And more than that… I want us to try again.”

Tony couldn’t believe what she was saying. Not because he didn’t like it. He did. Very much. It was like she’d read his mind. Everything she was saying was how he felt, too. He'd gone to rehab and opened his restaurant after years of trying to find work and get his qualifications, which had fulfilled him in that sense. But he hadn’t found long-term companionship, which he wanted, no needed. People had come and gone, but nobody had stuck because nobody had ever been able to know or understand him the way she did. Still, though, he had doubts. He was convinced this was some fatigue-induced delirium. He believed because he’d done a few nice things for her tonight, she was now questioning herself and her decisions. 

“Michelle.” He said, cutting her off a little in her ramble, not because he didn’t want her to say how she felt but because she was beating herself up for it, assuming this was all one-sided when it wasn’t.

It wasn’t at all. 

He’d pushed her away because he’d thought she deserved better, deserved to be able to work in the career she wanted, and deserved to find someone who was like-minded and capable of working with her without putting themselves in prison. Of course, he’d missed her. He’d just believed that he wasn’t worthy of her, that given who she was, it would have been no trouble to have found a person to love her and take care of her. Anybody would be crazy not to have her.

“I… I’ve missed you too. I mean it. Yes, we needed a break to work through what had happened, and at the time, I thought it only made sense for you to leave me. I didn’t fight you because I thought it would make you happy. But… if you’re not happy, then I’m not either. Because making you happy is all I’ve ever wanted to do.” He sighed, feeling his voice shake. “I didn’t start drinking because of you. I started drinking because I thought that I had to push you away. I thought that I was holding you back, so it was my way of coping with the fact that I had to lose you. I was wallowing in self-pity. I was never, ever, trying to drink to make you feel bad. I was happy for you when you got the job at Division because I know you worked hard for it. I didn’t resent you for it. I just… I just felt like I’d put such a burden on you with the choice I’d made and that you shouldn’t have to suffer because of what I decided to do.”

“Are you happy?”

He lifted his shoulders. “I’m happy with the job I have. I’m happy that I’m sober. But I’m not happy like I was with you. Tonight put things into perspective for both of us, I think. It's like you said, everything can just... disappear. Everything can go wrong. Everything can change for the worse or the better. It happened to us before, and maybe it’ll happen again, but we’re here now. Together. As for the future and how we’ll do things… we’ll talk about it…”

She shook her head, and he felt his heart skip a beat as he realised how she was looking at him. “I don’t want to talk right now.”

Her hand cupped his cheek and pulled his mouth to hers. He didn’t resist, kissing her back softly, tenderly, using his thumb to wipe away her tears. His other hand was planted firmly on the bed, and he used it to pull himself up so he was sitting next to her. Kissing her felt so familiar, so right, and judging by the way she was shifting closer to him, one of her hands wrapping around the nape of his neck to keep him there, he was sure she felt the same way. Their motions became faster, more intense, almost frantic like they were suddenly aware of and making up for lost time.

Tony pulled back a little for air. His exhales were hot against her skin. “Are… are you sure you want this?”

Michelle nodded slowly, looking him deeply in the eyes. “When I said I miss you… I meant it in every way. If you want this too, then so do I.”

“I do.” This time, he initiated the kiss, feeling the emotions of the night catch up to him and creating a clutch in his chest. 

She sighed against him, sliding her hands under his sweater, reacquainting herself with the feel of his skin. Michelle helped him peel his top off, minding the elasticated sleeve over the wrap on his arm. She shifted herself so she was sitting in his lap, and he slid a hand into her hair, his mouth now suckling at her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. His other hand started to knead her breast, and she groaned a little, the scratchy cotton of the bathrobe sensitive against her nipple. He moved to the other side, and Michelle rolled her hips against him, watching the way his eyes darkened. She did it again and again, slowly building up a rhythm. Tony splayed his fingers against the small of her back and pushed her forward in time with her movements.

He was growing harder beneath her now, her breathing faster, and her kisses more desperate because all she wanted to convey in this moment was how much she missed him. And she could tell he was communicating that same message back to her, his lips and hands trying to map out and refamiliarise himself with every part of her body. By now, the vee of her bathrobe had been undone, and her skin was flushed with arousal. He looked up at her, watching the way she held him tighter, watching her bite her lip as she continued to grind against him. Part of Tony still couldn’t quite believe this was real, that she wanted this with him. He wanted this with her; he hadn’t been able to be intimate with anybody else without thinking of her. But still, he felt the need to make her feel loved consume him. He had to tell her in every way he could that he was grateful for this.

A mewl escaped her when two of his fingers delved between her legs, starting to make lazy circles. He spread her wetness around, pushing in and out of her, smirking a little when she pleaded quietly. His thumb brushed her clit, and she gasped, jerking against him. She grabbed his face, kissing him wholly and pumping her hips erratically against him as he sped up his movements. Her lips pecked kisses all over his cheeks, his throat, and his chest. Michelle came with a cry of his name, her eyes squeezed shut and nails digging tightly into his skin. Knowing she wouldn’t let go, in one quick motion, he stood, feeling her calves wrap around him, before turning and laying her on the bed. He hovered over her, taking a moment to breathe and letting her do the same.

“Still good?”

“Yeah…” Michelle said breathlessly.

Tony went to move but stopped as though something had just occurred to him. He went to dig through his luggage, and she sat up on her elbows, her face slightly confused. He pulled out a small bag and unzipped it. When he walked back over to the bed, she realised it was a condom.

“I haven’t been with someone in a while, but… just in case.”

She nodded.

He kissed her again, softer this time, again wanting nothing more than to show her that he’d never wanted to do anything other than make her happy, even if it meant pushing her away at one point. But right now, if she wanted him, if she needed him, then he would be there. His tongue then cast a trail from between her breasts down to her mound, and he paused, using his hands to caress and touch her skin.

When he looked up at her, Michelle felt her breath get caught in her throat. He was taking care of her. He was trying so hard to show that he felt the same as she did, and she knew undoubtedly now that he did. But still, she wanted him to feel taken care of, to feel appreciated, to feel loved. Because while neither of them had said it tonight, nothing about what they were doing was casual. Nothing was surface-level. Every gesture was intentional. Every gesture brought back memories that had been deeply stowed away within each of them but were now gladly brought to the surface. Tony went to tear open the condom wrapper, but she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. With the other, she curved her hand around his cock, stroking slowly. He groaned, moving into her touch, the pace almost teasing by this point. Tony shuddered when she increased the pressure, almost losing his balance.

“Michelle…” He chuckled lowly. “If you keep going like that, all that effort I put into finding the condom is going to go to waste.”

She smirked, moving her hand away and letting him roll the condom onto himself. Leaning forward, she grabbed the edge of the quilt and pulled it over them. He took her wrists and pressed them into the sheets above her head. Michelle felt the material of his bandage against her skin, letting it remind her of what had happened tonight, of how it could have so easily been him or her fighting for his life in the hospital instead of Audrey. It reminded her that every word that had come out of her mouth had been true. It hadn’t been in the heat of the moment. Maybe it was crazy that they’d gone this far tonight, but what part of their lives wasn’t? They’d been through so much over the years. They’d come close to losing each other so many times, which meant they had to take what they could get.

Slowly, he moved into her, and she let out all the breath in her lungs. He was gentle, his fingers interlocking with hers, lips grazing against her skin. She lifted her hips a little, letting him go deeper inside her, but he didn’t speed up, wanting to savour every moment. Before, it had been fast, almost a fight to show each other just how much they missed what they had. Now, they were comfortable, content, and more present in what they were doing. Still, no matter how much he wanted to ignore it, he was aware of how exhausted he was. Michelle, too. If it was up to him, they'd spend eternity doing this, but he also understood that emotions were running high right now. She needed release and comfort, and so did he.

Michelle moaned softly, and Tony knew he’d hit a familiar spot. He did it again, watching her eyes roll back into her head. She started to whimper his name, and his face came to rest in the crook of her neck, chest against her breasts. As he continued his motions, she started to clench around him, and he knew they were both close. When she came, just as passionately as she had before, he felt her whole body shake beneath him. Michelle started to whisper in encouragement to him, and he came with a deep groan not long after.

To neither of their surprise, they were both crying, her arms over his shoulders pressing her body against his. He tenderly pressed his forehead against hers. All they could hear was the sound of each other’s panting. All they could feel was the heat of each other’s skin. All they could see was the honesty and vulnerability in each other’s eyes, something they’d sorely missed. Time seemed to stand still, and everything else seemed to fade into nothingness. All that mattered was that he was here with her, and she was here with him.

“I’m glad I ran into you tonight.” He murmured, voice slightly broken, wiping away her tears just as he had before.

She smiled softly, her thumb gently swiping at the scar on his neck. “Me too.”

Tony woke up before she did, almost startled by the presence of her sleeping next to him. Michelle’s breaths were gentle on his skin, her body warm against his, and her eyes closed softly. She always looked so peaceful while she slept. It was a comforting reminder that she was resting despite the chaos and stress of the day. Tony brushed a hair from her face and smiled a little. He’d forgotten how much he missed it. He still couldn’t fathom that he was here with her right now and that, somehow, he’d gotten lucky enough to not only end up in the same place as her tonight but for them to have talked and discovered that she had missed him as much as he had.

It felt too good to be true.

Tony still wondered if this was the right thing, not because it didn’t feel right, but from a logical place. Last night had been overwhelming, even long before they’d ended up in his hotel room. There’d been the tension of work, of him trying not to fuck up catering for the country’s possible next president, and her trying to make sure the guy didn't get assassinated. There’d been the tension of just seeing each other again, of trying to determine boundaries, but finding themselves closer than was probably appropriate, all because of old habits, of him trying to protect her and keep her safe. Then, after everything had mostly settled, fatigue had washed over them both, but they’d pushed through with their conversation anyway, which had led them to where they were now.

Considering it had been such a shock to see each other at the event, he was willing to bet the fact that they’d slept together had been even more surprising. He didn’t have misgivings about it, but knowing who she was, logical and rational and in charge of her emotions, he was sure she would. She’d been here for work, not to hastily reunite with her ex-husband, an ex-husband that she had left. He’d fucked with everything. She was going to wake up, realise what had happened, and feel terrible about it, and he wasn’t going to blame her. They were both exhausted last night; they should have both gone to bed or, at the very least, laid awake staring into nothingness. Their conversation had spiralled into emotion-fuelled actions that, while not unpleasant, had happened too fast. 

But more than his own insecurity, he wanted her to think about what she had suggested, the thought of them being together again. Because, the way he saw it, as wonderful as that would be, someone would have to compromise. Someone would have to give up or downgrade their work to accommodate the other person, and he would have none of that. To be one of the directors at CTU headquarters was a huge accomplishment, one he knew wouldn’t have come without hard work and dedication. He didn’t want her to have to transfer to another state; she had a life in DC now, and he wouldn’t make her sacrifice that. And as for him, while he didn’t care about moving to DC to be with her, he too had slaved many hours to get to where he was now, owner of the restaurant that brought him more joy than any other job ever had. He could try opening another restaurant, he supposed, but that posed a huge risk financially, and again, he didn’t want her to have to pander to him or support him if he ended up unemployed. 

It just wasn’t fair. 

But maybe, he supposed, that was simply a sign they weren’t meant to be. 

A sign they had served a purpose in each other’s lives temporarily but didn’t need to anymore.

It made this situation difficult. Given that they’d opened up to each other and been intimate, Michelle was sure to be upset about it. Tony didn’t care, though. She would move on and find someone who could treat her right and fit into her life without trouble. This time, he wasn't pushing her away. He was sparing them both more heartbreak because it wasn't going to work, and he could see that. She might hate him. But hopefully, she would understand.

So quietly, he inched towards the edge of the bed. Michelle's hand had been draped around his waist, and he gently let it fall to the sheets. After he stood slowly so the mattress didn't creak, he draped the covers over her to keep her warm. When he looked back at her, Tony felt tears form in his eyes but blinked them away. He didn’t want to do this. But he had to. It was the only way it would work. As he crossed the room and started to get dressed, he made sure to be as discreet as possible, knowing if she woke, he would have to see the heartbreak and disappointment in her eyes and that it would haunt him forever. Technically, his flight back to Chicago was tomorrow evening; he hadn’t been to DC in years and had planned to sight-see. But, right now, he was happy to try his luck with getting a flight today.

His movements were hesitant, as though his body was urging him to stop and listen to what he truly felt in his heart and ignore the voice in his head that was telling him he wasn’t worth it. Still, though, he packed his bags and folded up the couch to make sure she understood that he wasn’t coming back. His eyes intermittently glanced over at her to ensure she was still asleep. Seeing how she hadn't stirred reminded him that she was a heavy sleeper. The small desk in the room had a stationary pad and pen, monogrammed with the hotel franchise name. He scrawled something quickly and folded it, leaving it on the bedside table along with the hotel room card and some money in case she needed to tip any of the hotel staff. 

Tony stood at the door now, pressing his lips together as he looked at her one last time. There was a part of him screaming, telling him that he was making a mistake, that he was doubting himself far too much, that last night had been real, and they had the chance to make things right. But he ignored it and walked out the door.

—

Michelle woke up not too long after he left. She wanted to sleep more, pleased to note that CTU wasn’t ringing her just yet. It seemed they could keep terrorists at bay for at least a little while longer before they made her come down. But when she realised she was alone, the confusion made her alert. It made her sit up and start checking her surroundings. Immediately, she thought something was wrong, that maybe they hadn’t caught all the conspirators, and now they were coming after her. But the room didn’t seem to be in disarray. In fact, it was neatly packed up as though ready for somebody new to come and stay. As she turned her head, she found the objects on the bedside and furrowed her brow in confusion.

When she unfolded the note and read the three words there, it all fell into place.

You deserve better.

He’d left her.

After everything that had happened last night, he’d left her.

A taste of her own medicine, she supposed.

But she knew, or at least had to hope, that it wasn’t because he regretted what happened last night. It wasn’t because he’d been playing her the whole night, using her to get what he wanted and then leaving. The way he’d confessed to her that he’d missed her just as much as she had hadn’t seemed fake. She’d looked into his eyes. She’d seen the pain there. She'd seen the same man she’d met at CTU all those years ago. He’d told her the real motivation for his drinking, that, to her surprise, it had had little to do with her and much more to do with him. Michelle now understood that their separation hadn’t been him against her; it had been both of them against themselves. She had felt so guilty about being the reason he went to prison. But he had felt that he wasn't enough for her anymore after his release. So, they’d drifted apart, each thinking the other was better off without them, to the point where she couldn’t bear to be around him, believing her presence was practically putting the bottle in his hands. The note he’d left was proof of all this.

Which was why she knew now that he was doing the same thing, self-sacrificing for her sake. 

And she refused to allow that.

Not after what they’d said, not after what had happened, and not after being put in a situation that made them realise just how precious life was.

Part of her wanted to let him go and said it was easier this way, but being with him last night had felt right, like the final puzzle piece neatly fitting itself where it belonged. Maybe that was why he was running, too. Maybe he was scared of what it meant, of feeling this way again, and she couldn’t blame him. It was terrifying to think about trying again with him. She could admit that. They had evolved. They had had enough time apart to know with more certainty what they both wanted. It wasn’t going to be perfect. It was going to take work. But so did every relationship. And waiting around wasn’t going to get them anywhere anymore. 

Fate wouldn’t have brought them together last night if it wasn’t at least a small sign that they should talk to each other.

They had to try. They just had to. 

Quickly, she collected her things from the bathroom, knowing that no matter how much effort she put into her appearance, it was going to be abundantly clear to anyone passing her by that she was doing the walk of shame. She couldn’t care less right now, though. Judging by the fact that all of the luggage was gone, she assumed he was either staying at another hotel or going back to Chicago. Somehow, she felt it was the latter. He probably wanted nothing to do with DC ever again. He probably wanted to go back to his restaurant and his life away from her, away from all the memories last night had dredged up. But she wasn’t going to let him. Michelle grabbed the laptop she’d been given during the investigation to find flight times at the closest airports. There was one departing from Reagan for O’Hare in a few hours. Looking at the digital clock, she realised she could make it. CTU wasn’t calling her. There were no messages because they had mitigated the threat and concluded there wouldn't be any further attacks, even if they still had to follow up on some other leads. The FBI could worry about the nature of pressing charges. For God’s sake, she was the national director of CTU headquarters. Nobody was going to stop her.

Right now, for once in her life, she was going to put everything aside for him, just as he had done for her all those years ago.

However, her determination was quashed when, after checking out of his hotel room and hailing a cab, she soon found herself in the midst of peak-hour traffic. Not just regular peak-hour traffic, though, the kind of extra insanity that could only come with a federal election. Of course. Michelle remembered now that last night's party had been to garnering last-minute supporters for today’s election. Her stomach sank, now feeling like this had been a terrible idea, that it was perhaps a sign to stop being so optimistic — something she wasn’t usually anyway — and just go back to the hotel. Maybe she could find his number, at least give him a call. That was probably a little less dramatic than stalking him. 

Peering over the tops of the seemingly endless queue of cars in front of her, she could hear people yelling, cheering, perhaps. They were near a community hall that had been set up as a voting centre. Somebody was leaving, somebody important, she was guessing, judging by the flashing camera lights and hoards of security guards.

It was Heller’s possible vice president, Karen Hayes. 

Of course.

With Heller likely still in the hospital because of Audrey’s condition, someone had to go keep up appearances today, and it made sense that it would be her. She’d interacted with Karen before, back when she was Head of Homeland Security some years ago. She respected her, and there was a nice working camaraderie between them, which had eased some of the usual tension between government branches for a change. 

But right now, she was the only person who was going to get through this mob of traffic, thanks to her surrounding motorcade.

She exited the cab, and the driver’s protests of confusion soon became silent to her as she walked as fast as she could in her heels between the lanes of unmoving cars. When she saw the first few Secret Service agents, she was thankful that a couple recognised her and let her through. She called Karen’s name, who turned around and furrowed her brow at Michelle or, most likely, at the evening attire she was still in.

“I need a favour.”

Her eyes widened. “Now?! Is there some kind of further attack planned?”

“No! No, nothing like that.”

“Then what kind of favour are you talking about?” She asked in bewilderment.

Michelle mustered her courage and motioned with her head to pull her aside. God, she was crazy. She was ordering the potential vice president around. 

"Remember... remember when you and Bill were on your elopement in Hawaii, and I ran the Seattle CTU while there was that ricin attack so you wouldn't have to leave early?" Michelle reminded. "Because I told you you both deserved to get married without worrying about that, even though every policy under the sun should have made me order you back?"

She touched the wedding band in question. “Yes?”

“It’s that kind of favour. I need… I need you to get me to Reagan Airport before someone boards his flight. Someone that I love very much.”

Karen’s expression softened, and she nodded. “Then we'll get you there.”

Michelle took in another breath to make her voice firm. “I ‘deserve better’?!”

After sprinting through the airport, flashing her CTU badge left, right, and centre to make sure no TSA agent dared stand in her way, she found herself standing in front of Tony, where his flight was set to depart.

He opened his mouth as though to speak, but instead, he walked over to where she was standing and panting, pulling her away from the stares of the other people in the terminal.

“What happened last night was a mistake. You were tired, and you weren’t thinking straight. It was a heat of the moment thing because of what happened to Audrey-”

“No.” She said adamantly, cutting him off. “I’ll admit I didn’t expect it to go that far, but I don’t regret it, and I know that you don’t either. You wouldn’t have been so careful if it was a ‘heat of the moment’ thing. Stop this.” Her voice cracked a little, and she cleared her throat to harden it. “Stop pushing me away. Don’t do this again.”

“I have to. Look…" Tony sighed. "You’re right: I don’t regret what happened last night. It’s just…” He tried to find the words but came up empty.

She shrugged. “Just what?”

“You haven’t thought about the logistics here. We live in separate states doing very different things. I don’t want you to have to give up the career you’ve worked so hard for, and I don’t want to burden you trying to set up a restaurant around here and risk making us go broke.”

She blinked at him a few times. “That’s what this is about? You’re worried about my career? I can put in a transfer to the CTU office in Chicago; I don’t want you to have to give up anything, either.”

Tony tutted. “Michelle, working in DC has been your dream for as long as I’ve known you. I refuse to take that away from you. You deserve someone that you don’t have to re-work your life around.”

Michelle slumped her shoulders. “Tony, you gave up everything to save my life. Let me do this for you. Please.” She said firmly. “Don’t go.”

The look on his face was soft, troubled even. He wasn’t looking at her with pity. If anything, he looked scared. And she didn’t blame him. She wasn’t asking him on a date; she was asking him to navigate the idea of being in a fully committed relationship with her again. It was scary to think about because if they ended up heartbroken again, it would hurt just as much as it did the first time. There was nothing casual between them. There never had been. Their first kiss had come about as a result of a nightmare of a day with far too much fear and not nearly enough sleep. But everything had escalated from there in the best way possible. That day had reminded them that everything could be taken in the blink of an eye. It was no wonder that last night had created a similar effect. When it came to things between them, if they were in it, they were in it for the long haul.

The PA system announced that his flight would be departing soon. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“I-I’m not saying we have to do things quickly. We can still try to manage this long distance, at least at first. But if this… if this is meant to be, and if you feel the same way I do, and I know you do, I can see it in your eyes, then I don’t want to waste any more time.” Now, she was the one looking fearful. “Don’t… don’t you want this?”

“I do.” He said quickly, not wanting her to doubt herself. “But I just can’t see how this is going to work. At least not right now.” 

“But who knows when we’ll see each other again? What if… what if there is no next time, and this is it?”

“Don’t get me wrong… if there’s a way to make this work where neither of us have to sacrifice what we’ve worked for, I’m open to it. But we can’t just drop everything to try to force this to happen. We won’t be happy like that.”

She tried to think of some kind of solution they would both be happy with or at least just a starting point. She wanted to at least give him some hope because she knew if he got on that plane now, this line of conversation would go with him. He watched her eyes well with tears and simply took her in his arms. Tony felt her nails dig into the back of his shirt. 

“You’re probably right.” She conceded sadly, letting the reality of the situation sink in. How was this going to work? If either of them tried to sacrifice, the other wouldn’t allow them. They were both trying too hard to be fair to each other. This wasn’t about wanting to keep their lives the same; it was about being too afraid to make too many changes too soon, knowing that there was no guarantee this was going to work.

When the PA finally announced the final boarding call for his flight, he forced himself to pull away from her. Leaning down, he kissed her softly, feeling her tears against his cheek. It was taking everything in him not to cry, too, but he knew that if she saw that he was just as upset as she was, then she’d fight harder. And he wouldn’t be able to win.

Michelle watched him get on the plane and waited for it to take off, just to know he was safe. She would check the flight details later to make sure he landed okay. But for now, she could see several missed calls from her Chief of Staff and figured work could no longer wait. Besides, it would make for a nice distraction.

She hailed a cab when she got outside the airport. The streets were still a little busy, but now she didn’t care how long it took her to get home. When she returned the call, she received the pleasant news that Audrey had pulled through and would be okay. Michelle decided she would personally brief Audrey, Jack, and Heller at the hospital where she had been admitted. It would be easier than throwing herself back into work straight away.

When Michelle eventually arrived home, showering hastily, as though trying to scrub the memories of last night off of her skin, she desperately tried to force herself back into work mode. It was funny. She’d been able to do that so naturally when he’d been there during the investigation last night. But now, with the thought of him leaving still plaguing her mind, it was incredibly difficult. She took a deep breath when she stood in front of the mirror, wearing one of her work suits, hair straightened and tied back. She’d lived in this house alone for several years by this point, but right now, it felt colder and emptier than ever. It made her heart hurt to think of how easily she could see him fitting in there.

But she didn’t think about that for very long.

She gathered her things and collected herself because the small window of time she’d had for crying was over. Right now, she had a job to do. She had people to protect.

And she couldn’t do that job if she allowed the previous night to haunt her. 

It had been beautiful. It had been meaningful. It had brought up so many emotions she thought she’d moved on from.

But she had to forget about it.

Audrey’s arm was immobilised in a sling, her face a little pale and tired from the surgery, but otherwise, she seemed alright. Jack, as expected, still appeared very concerned and was tending to every need. But, as Michelle explained that the assassination threat had been mitigated, his worry faded. The fact that he could have lost Audrey last night was clearly hitting him hard and still taking some time to process. Michelle knew that a large part of the reason for his career change was not having to worry constantly about the lives of his loved ones being threatened. A desk job in DC wasn’t CTU, after all. But it was okay. They were safe. The perpetrators had been arrested. They would heighten security for the three of them and Heller’s other staff.

Heller left to deliver a speech, knowing that today was his last chance to gain more votes, insisting that Jack and Audrey stay and get some rest for a while. Michelle started to pack up her things, figuring it would be time to head back to CTU.

“Michelle, are you okay?” Jack asked.

“Yeah…” She said weakly, clearing her throat to harden her voice. “Just exhausted. I didn’t really sleep last night.”

They both looked at her sympathetically, but Audrey could tell there was more to it.

“Honey?” Audrey asked. “Could you please do me a favour and get me something from the vending machine? I couldn’t stomach the hospital food.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but she needed to get him out of the room one way or another. She’d known Michelle for years by this point, enough to be able to tell when she was upset about something but desperately trying to mask it with her work facade. She also knew that for Michelle to take down that wall, she needed to be around someone she felt comfortable enough to open up to. It wasn’t that Michelle couldn’t talk to Jack; they were both good friends to her. Jack had known Michelle for years before they'd met. But something told Audrey that Michelle wasn't going to say anything around Jack this time, which led Audrey to one conclusion: it had to be about Tony.

“Sure.” He smiled, immediately getting up and leaving the hospital room.

“What’s going on, Michelle?”

Michelle sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“It’s not. But I know you.” Audrey shifted a little so she could look at her better. “Come on. Talk to me.”

Michelle looked hesitant and opened her mouth to speak, but Audrey cut her off.

“And if CTU calls you, I’m telling them you’re not going anywhere.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. “Suppose I don’t have a choice then. I, uh… I ran into Tony last night.”

Her eyes widened. “You had to deal with an assassination and seeing your ex? God, I told Jack we should let you both know-”

“That’s just it. It wasn’t bad. It was actually… quite nice.”

Audrey gave her a funny look.

“We… we slept together.” She admitted.

Her eyebrows rose. “Oh… shit.”

“But it wasn’t a one-night stand. It wasn’t like that. Before we did… I told Tony that I missed him, which was true. And he told me he felt the same way.”

“If you both realised you feel the same way, that’s great news,” Audrey said, her face confused. “So… so what’s the problem?”

Her expression fell. “When I woke up, Tony was gone. I chased him down to the airport. He told me I still deserved better, that it was never going to work with the nature of what we were both doing now.” She sniffed. “I tried to tell him I could move to Chicago so he wouldn’t have to give up his restaurant, but he refused to let me do that. He told me he could try and find work here, and I refused to let him do that because I know how important that restaurant is to him. I know it makes him happier than CTU or any other kind of work ever could. We couldn't agree on anything. So… so he got on the plane.”

Before Audrey could respond, Jack had walked back into the room, holding about five different candy bars, some cookies, and a bottle of juice.

“I should probably get back to CTU,” Michelle said quickly, keeping her head down as she walked towards the door.

“Michelle, wait!” Audrey said, wincing as she moved her body too quickly.

She stopped, turning to look at her with teary eyes. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. But thank you.”

Jack furrowed his brow. “What was that all about?”

Audrey proceeded to explain the situation, sparing the gory details because she respected Michelle’s privacy. She watched Jack’s face screw up in thought as she went on, trying to understand all the logistics.

“So they want to get back together… but neither want the other to give up what they’ve worked for?”

She nodded.

“It's not easy. Transferring anywhere outside of DC will be a downgrade for Michelle. And she’s damn good at what she does, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Audrey hummed, agreeing and pointing to a manilla folder on the small side table. “With the amount of information she just gave us about who planned the assassination, you’d think this was a week’s worth of research, not a few hours.”

“And as for Tony… running a small business like that isn’t exactly something he can just pick up and move to DC with." Jack pointed out. "We had to plan last night how many months in advance to make sure he wouldn’t have staffing issues.”

He sighed.

“Suppose it was worth it, though. Dad certainly seemed to enjoy the food.” Audrey snorted. “I think it was the highlight of his night, considering his speech went to shit when I got shot. At least Michelle kept him updated with the investigation in case they needed to move me. She was more on top of things than his own cabinet.”

Jack looked up at Audrey suddenly, like something had just occurred to him.

“What?”

“I think I know how Tony and Michelle can make it work again.”

Michelle felt a chill wash over her when she pulled her car into the driveway, distracting her from the spiral about the manilla folder in her passenger seat. That chill became well-founded when she noticed an unfamiliar car was parked near the curb, and the lights were on inside. She lived alone. Nobody had any of her spare keys. Nobody else knew the alarm pad code. If it had gone off, she would have been told.

Somebody had broken in.

Grabbing the gun from her glove box, she kept her body low as she stepped out of the car, listening out for any noise from inside. There didn’t seem to be any banging around or running engines of getaway cars. Still, somebody was definitely in there. Judging by the location of the lights, the intruder was in the kitchen. They would see her if she stepped through the front door. So slowly, she inched her way down the side of the house to the back door. It was locked, as she’d left it. Cautiously, she slipped inside, making her way down the dark hallway until she reached the archway that led to the kitchen. As she paced quietly, she realised she could smell food. Not burning, not fire, but food. 

Somebody had broken in to cook?

Finally, she glanced into the room, finding a familiar head of dark hair bending down in front of her oven.

“Tony?”

He seemed a little startled as he turned to face her, especially as he noticed the gun in her hands. It wasn’t pointed at him, but he could tell she had been prepared to use it.

“How… how the hell did you get in here?!”

Smiling crookedly, he scratched the back of his head. “I called in a favour at the security office that built your alarm."

She raised her eyebrows. “You broke into my house? To… cook for me?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

Michelle sighed. “Jesus, I could have shot you.”

“Well, I guess we’re both glad you didn’t, huh?”

The adrenaline that had been coursing through her was dying down. She was no longer worried. Now she was just… confused. Michelle wasn’t sure how long she stood there, mouth agape, but eventually, Tony walked over and took the gun from her before guiding her to sit down. He laughed a little at her unchanged facial expression.

“When did you get back?” She asked. It had only been about a week since she’d last seen him, yet it almost felt like a lifetime ago.

“This morning.”

“I thought… I thought you said that it wasn’t going to work.”

He turned off the stove, plating the food - notably, the chicken caprese he'd served her the other night, only portioned for a main meal with potatoes, not an appetiser - and placing it in front of her. Tony also went to the fridge, returning with a bottle of red wine and a bottle of Coke. It was an expensive merlot, one of her favourites. She hadn’t had it in a long time. He poured wine into the glass and sat across from her, opening his bottle.

“Just eat first, and I’ll explain, okay?” He said.

She still looked at him with scepticism. She had so many questions.

Tony snickered as though this was all incredibly amusing. “It’ll go cold, come on.”

She was hungry. So, she obliged, unsurprised to find that the meal was divine, just as divine as it had been the other night. The wine complemented everything perfectly. Despite her underlying bewilderment, she allowed herself to enjoy this peaceful moment with him. The assassination attempt the other night still served as a reminder that every second was important. It reminded her that the present was a gift in and of itself, and it deserved to be celebrated.

When she finished eating and continued sipping her wine, he finally started to speak. “I got a call from Senator Heller, sorry, president-elect Heller, the night I got back. Well. Not him directly, but Jack, who passed me on to him.”

“Yeah?…”

“Turns out Heller liked the food the other night. A lot. He said…” There was such a genuine smile on his face, and it hit Michelle just how many years it had been since she’d seen him happy like that. “That he’ll give me whatever money and support I need to open a restaurant in DC so I can cater for his events full time, not just now, but even after his term if he isn't re-elected.” 

Her eyes widened. “Tony, that’s… that’s amazing.” She was reminded of the offer she’d received today. Initially, while not a bad thing, the promotion had seemed to come out of nowhere. Yes, she’d been commended for her work on the assassination, but it hadn’t been anything beyond her usual duties. However, now that Tony was saying this… maybe it hadn’t been so random after all. “I… I have some news as well.”

He tilted his head. 

“I got offered a promotion. To be Heller’s full-time security advisor. He… he was impressed with the investigation. If I take it, since Heller has won, we’ll both be…”

“In the White House,” Tony concluded, laughing a little in disbelief. “How- it can’t just be a coincidence that we both get offered jobs in the same place?”

She smiled a little, thinking about what she’d said to Audrey. “I think Jack and Audrey might be the ones to thank for this.”

“That would make sense.” He agreed before letting out a breath. “Are you… are you thinking about taking it?”

Michelle blinked at him a few times. “Are you crazy? Of course, I will. It’s… it’s exactly what we need to make this work.” She bit her lip. “And the pay rise is nothing to complain about.” She added.

“Then I’m not going anywhere, either. Which means if we want to try again… we can. We can try without either of us having to sacrifice anything.” He concluded. “So no more excuses from me, no more waiting. Because you’re right…” He let out a breath. “It’s not worth it. Everything is lined up for us, so… let’s do it while we have the chance. And even if it doesn’t work out… I still want you in my life one way or another. I miss you being around in any capacity.”

She felt tears prick the back of her eyes as she stood from the chair and strode over to him. They met halfway, and she yelped a little when he picked her up into his arms, crushing his lips to hers. Michelle kissed him back greedily, knowing that this time there would be no interruption, no flight to tear him away from her, no exhaustion to overcome both of them. No. Right now, she had him, and he had her, and that was all that mattered. And like he said, whatever fate held for their relationship didn’t matter because what they’d missed the most was each other’s presence in their lives. She’d cared for him as a coworker and friend long before they’d acted on the sparks between them. She’d never stopped caring about him that way, even at their worst. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” Michelle said, thumbing at his cheek before finding the ground with her feet and wrapping her arms around the nape of his neck. She pulled his mouth down to meet hers, and his arms wrapped around her waist. Neither of them seemed to be intent on pulling away, and that became clearer when her fingers slowly started to work at the buttons on his shirt.

“Wait…” He said. “Let me do the dishes first. It’ll be a pain in the ass to clean later.”

Michelle shook her head, pulling him by the collar so her mouth was near the shell of his ear. “The dishes can wait. But I can’t.”

He paused, letting his hand slide lower. “You know what?” He whispered lowly. “I can’t either.”