Time

Disclaimer: The people, characters and show do not belong to me and I do not make any money off of them/it.

7 connected fics on Jack/Tony throughout the series, written for the 7 deadly sins writing challenge.

Inspired by Jack's "There's some things I have to deal with, but I'm going to be fine." *goes and cries in car* Which CLEARLY means "Tony". And "not so fine."

30 Minutes (Greed)


I think I always felt a little more protective of Michelle than I should have. I loved her, certainly more than any woman I'd ever met, but that wasn't what instilled the reckless need to do right by her, keep her safe, I realized that now. It was guilt.

Guilt that I married her, when I loved someone else more. Guilt that I chose her because she was safe, not because she was the one that truly and completely owned my heart. Guilt that I loved her, but used her anyway.

Guilt was the reason I was sitting here, in a holding cell at District, waiting for them to take me to be processed at Federal. Charge of treason... what a laugh. I did what I had to do, and made it right afterwards, just like CTU always does. But when does a court of law ever understand that? In the end, though... even if it hadn't been put right, I was still willing to make the sacrifice. Thousands of innocent lives for Michelle's. So I deserved to be here, deserved... what had Hammond said? Twenty years at best, if not the death penalty? That's what guilt does to you, it eats you up inside, tears you apart day after silent day, worse than any virus, until you crack under the pressure and throw away all sense of reason.

There was one thing that confused me, though. I'd been moved here from CTU holding at one in the afternoon, where they said they were taking me straight to be processed. Instead I'd ended up here, in front of yet another one way mirror. Yet another table and bright overhead light. There'd been a few people in and out, asking more questions about Saunders, more about what I knew and what I'd done, but it all blurred together by this time, and I wasn't sure what they still wanted from me. Maybe they just wanted to get me away from Michelle. I took off my jacket and pillowed my head on it on the table, letting myself doze. It had been a very long day....

"Tony."

I jerked awake, blinking sleepily at the person who'd come through the door, the last person I expected to be allowed to see me here. "... Jack?"

Jack gave me a smile, the kind he always gave people when he wanted them to believe everything would be all right. I knew it too well to believe it. "Hey. You doing okay?"

I gave a little shrug. "As well as could be expected. How did you get them to let you in here? Hammond's locked me down from anyone who might know me..."

He perched on the side of the table, watching me. "I just finished up with the courier an hour and a half ago... told them I needed to pump you for some more information."

I nodded slowly. "I've said all I know, Jack...."

"I know. That was just the excuse."

I laughed softly, mirthless. "How's Chase? No one will talk to me here."

I saw a shadow cross Jack's face, and I realized then how tired he was, physically and emotionally, and what everything that he'd had to do during the day had cost him. He'd had to put a gun to Chase's head and pull the trigger down in Mexico, I'd heard. Had to leave him to torture. Had to cut off his hand with an axe to save LA from another release of the virus. Chase, his partner. Chase, who he loved like a son, I knew, though he'd never admit it, and I don't think anyone but me would ever be able to read it from him. But Jack let down his guard around me, sometimes, when we were alone. Just enough for me to see him, see the Jack under all the survival layers of abrasiveness, weathered tough by trials and hardship. And now, I could tell, he was very weary, very hurt, and very scared.

"Chase will be okay," Jack said slowly. "It was clean, they were able to reattach very successfully. They're estimating he'll regain almost full use of it." As he spoke, he reached inside the breast pocket of his jacket, pulling out a folded manila envelope, looking down at it in his hands, then offering it to me.

I stared at it, making no effort to take it. "What is that?"

"Everything you need to disappear. Papers, an access card out of here, and keys and plate number for a black explorer that's parked half a block away in a residential driveway. There's a change of clothes and a razor inside, I recommend shaving your head. There's a small charter plane leaving from Norton at midnight that will take you across the border into Mexico, and a connection there to North Africa."

I took all this in silently. "... you want me to run?"

Blue eyes glanced away from mine guiltily. "I don't want to see you rot behind bars."

"They'll know it was you that let me out."

"I am aware of that." He set the envelope down on the table, sliding it toward me. "I can disappear just as easily."

"Disappear, Jack? What about Kim?"

"She has Chase." He stood, turning and resting his hands on the table top, looking down at me evenly. "Tony. You were right, about what you did. About what I did. It's no different. So if this is your sentence, it should be mine too."

"No, it's different." I wet my lips, staring down at the table. "Look... I'm sorry for what I said. About Teri. It was uncalled for."

He shook his head. "We both said things we didn't mean, it's fine. I just don't want to see you go down for being human."

It doesn't matter. I should have known better, I really should have. I'd tried to keep them both of them, both Jack and Michelle, and lost everything. If I'd trusted Michelle, trusted her enough to tell her about Mexico and the sting operation, maybe I wouldn't be in here. But that would have betrayed Jack, and that was something I could never bring myself to consciously do, under any circumstances, not until Michelle's life was threatened. So I'd wronged her, and fought to make it right when she was kidnapped, jeopardized everything, even Jack, to appease my own guilty conscience.

If I'd trusted him, maybe I wouldn't be here either. No, for certain I wouldn't be. I hated myself for that now. I knew Jack, and I knew he was willing to make any sacrifice to keep the country safe, keep the innocents safe. Even if it was his daughter, though he'd never consciously admit it. Even if it was me, probably. I knew that Michelle would be expendable in his eyes. But truthfully... Jack had always done right by me, by me and Michelle, even when Division tried to keep us from working together due to that bullshit conflict of interest protocall. He'd even stood by my side as I married her. Yet after all that, I'd still let my fear overrule everything else. I'd lied to him.

He would be better off without me. They both would.

"I'm not going to run."

Jack closed his eyes for a moment, and I could see his mouth shift, could see him trying very hard not to react, and then he gave a sharp nod, looking at me again. "All right. I'll respect that. But I'm getting you out of here, no matter what it takes. I promise you that."

"Just leave it, Jack. I appreciate it, I really do. But there's nothing you can do. I need to pay for what I've done."

"No. No..." He shook his head, blue eyes full of pain. "Don't give up on me. I'm doing everything I can, Tony, please believe me. I don't want this, I never wanted this." His voice cracked, and I closed my eyes in a wash of sorrow. Funny how after all this time, Jack was still the one that could tear me down. I could be strong for Michelle, I could withstand her pain, but not Jack's.

"Yeah. I know," I said softly. "I'm sorry I let you down."

"Don't. Ever. Think that." Blue eyes looked sharply to mine, and in two steps Jack had reached me, leaning over, catching my face and kissing me.

It was hard, so very hard to push him away, but there were consequences to think about. I caught the front of his shirt in my hands to hold him in place, yanking back from the kiss. "Jack! The cameras - "

"Do you think I didn't take care of that? I came here to break you out." He followed my glance toward the mirror, and gave his head another little shake. "My people are guarding the doors. There's no one watching. We won't be disturbed for at least half an hour, long enough to get a good head start, if you change your mind."

I shook my head, reaching for him wordlessly, voice a little harsher than I expected it to be. "I'm not going to run, Jack. If I run I'll never see her again. And chances are, I'll never see you again either." He let me pull him down onto my lap wordlessly, thighs wrapping around my waist, let me tangle my fingers in his hair to pull his face to mine, crush his lips to mine with desperate kisses. "I'm so sorry, Jack...."

"Tony - " he gasped my name against my mouth, voice raw, almost helpless, but I answered the only way I knew how, claiming his mouth, pulling his hips to mine and arching up against him, one hand moving down to cup his ass, keeping him from pulling away. He didn't try though, returning my kisses with a little helpless shudder, hips grinding against me slowly, demanding. His fingers were already tugging the buttons on my shirt undone, pushing it off my shoulders, and his actions told me so much more than words how much he needed me, needed the release. Even now, even with all the guilt and all the consequences my actions had brought on me, I still wanted him, still needed him, badly enough to do it all over again.

"We have half an hour?" I asked him, low and breathless, and he gave the smallest nod in reply. I slipped my hand from his hair to cup his face, looking up into tortured blue eyes. "Let me suck you off."

His lips parted, ever so slightly, and I could see the battle rage, between control and raw need. "Tony...."

"You know you need it, Jack."

He let out the softest sigh, eyes closing for a moment against the reality of this, his reply very low, throaty with emotion. "I need you."

It was broke me to see him like this, his careful defenses torn down, too exhausted to keep them up any longer. Like he'd been after Teri's death, and after he got back from his mission with the Salazars, arms bruised from the heroin. "I'm so sorry, Jack," I said, and knew from the sound of my voice, the ache in my heart, that my walls were as decimated as his.

"Please run," he whispered, but all I could do was pull his mouth to mine again, trembling against him as I tried to express my sorrow and regret, my guilt, my failings. My silent plea for forgiveness, for lying to him, betraying him, for letting him down. I wouldn't run. I could never run, and he knew that, even before he came here, I was sure. But he'd never forgive himself if he didn't try, and for that I loved him all the more.

Wordlessly, I pulled him closer, tugging the buttons of his shirt undone and leaning in to kiss his neck hungrily, nipping at the skin, at the muscle that joined neck to shoulder, tasting stress and sweat and all the burdens of the field, and felt him shudder against me. My hands found the buttons of his shirt, tugging them undone impatiently and starting to kiss over the skin that was revealed. I wanted - needed - to remember this, to touch and kiss and own every part of him, imprint his scent and taste and the feel of him on my memory. If we'd had time, if we'd had a stolen night in a little motel room, I would have covered every inch of him with my kisses, but all we had was now, thirty minutes to get us through the years and years to come, years of need, of being apart. So I kissed him, hard and desperate, again and again, like it could somehow take all of this away, take away the pain.

"Get up and lean back against the table," I hissed against his neck, but I felt him shake his head, and he reached back, moving my hand away from his ass to pull something out of his back pocket, two packaged condoms that he pressed into my hand wordlessly. Not for protection, we were clean - he made doubly sure of that after returning from Mexico - but to contain the evidence, and I realized he'd known before he came here that it would come to this.

I caught his mouth hungrily, hands slipping inside his open shirt to stroke down his sides, tugging at his belt, tugging open his pants. The shirt would stay on, as it had ever since he'd come back from Mexico, since he'd wept brokenly in my arms as I gently kissed the track marks. A man had to keep some sense of pride, and we were both already so vulnerable in these moments, with everything we rarely said laid bare, in kisses and touch, need and desire and desperation, torn open with the way he looked at me.

I yanked his pants undone, catching his mouth and kissing him almost desperately, freeing his erection from his boxers and wrapping my fingers around it, making him shiver at the touch. He did the same, taking one of the packets from me and tearing it open with his teeth, rolling it on me, pre-lubed, low voice wavering as he spoke. "Tony, please...."

He didn't have to ask, he knew. Knew I'd do anything he wanted me to, no matter what. I stroked the other one onto him, and he stood long enough to let me yank down his pants and shorts, stepping out of them before moving back to my lap, hand wrapped around the base of my cock, rocking onto it. "God - !"

I caught his hips in my hands as I caught his mouth, bucking up into him, swallowing his breathless cry. "Shhhh...." Because even agents loyal to Jack would question if they heard us, heard how Jack usually was when he was with me, how I made him gasp and cry and curse. I knew that I'd pay for making him keep quiet, that my back and shoulders would be bruised and scratched from the strength of his grasp, but I found myself craving it, craving the violence of his desperation, riding me hard, nipping at my lips as I kissed him. I wanted, needed to ache with it, to take that with me, to remind me of him, to remind me that I was still alive.

He too would ache when we were done, from my fingers digging into his hips, from the force of riding me as desperately as he was, drawing breath in shuddering gasps against my mouth. I tried not to think about anything, just to feel him, this last desperate union before I had to face the consequences of everything I'd done, but I couldn't move my mind from the fact that after this I'd lose my sweet Michelle. Worse, I'd lose Jack, lose the one who made my heart beat. I'd never touch him again, never own his mouth and body like I claimed him now. I'd spend the rest of my life cold and starving without him. And somehow in the desperation of it all, I realized I was half sobbing, in tears from the intensity and the desperation and the ache of how badly I needed him, tasting salt on his cheeks and knowing that in this, also, I was not alone.

Too soon, I felt my body reaching for climax, and slipped a hand to stroke him desperately, craving the feel of him hard in my fingers, needing to feel his orgasm. He was keening against my mouth, voice low and soft and shuddering, fingers clenching my shoulders, digging into my skin with the most addicting ache I gasped his name against his mouth, whispered over and over like a prayer, like it could somehow keep him here with me. Gasping his name as the sensation built, hot and uncontrollable, yet overflowing too quickly, bliss overwhelming my body and mind, the oblivion of orgasm over too soon for both of us.

He re-dressed silently, as I refastened my clothes, condoms disappearing discretely into a ziplock bag and somewhere in his pocket. I expected him to leave, but instead he slipped back down onto my lap, arms tight around my shoulders, face pressed to my hair, the shuddering gasps of his breath betraying the emotion he fought so hard to hide. I closed my eyes against it, against the anguish I felt, the feeling of loss overwhelming already, even with him still here.

I shouldn't have said it, what had always gone unsaid, but I was sure he must have known by now, and the words left my lips before I could stop them. "Jack... I love you."

He shuddered against me, swallowing hard, and this I knew already too, and I realized I'd known it for a very, very long time. But it was good to finally hear it, especially now, even if it was whispered as if it broke his heart to say it. "I love you too."

I sighed, somehow not realizing I was holding my breath, arms tight around him, pressing my lips to his hair. "You'd better go."

He nodded, very slowly, drawing back to look at me, blue eyes mournful. "I swear I'll get you out of here. Even if I have to go to Palmer."

"Jack...."

"Tony... please," he whispered, and I realized that he needed to do this just as much as I'd needed to save Michelle. Perhaps even more.

"All right," I said softly, and somehow managed to smile for him, small and weak but still real. It seemed to give him the strength he needed to pull away, hiding the envelope with the papers back in his jacket pocket and leaving without looking back.