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Fore the 3/21/08 pornathon. Future!Nita Callahan/Jack Bauer.
THIS ONE IS KAREN'S FAULT.
When the dust finally settles, Nita and Jack are dusty, bloody, bruised, exhausted, and numb.
And in Chicago.
CTU: Chicago keeps in debriefing for two and a half hours. It takes Nita summoning the last of her energy to produce a wizard-light to convince the agents of their extraordinary escapes -- and then her digging even deeper into her reserves to wipe the memory of that reveal from their minds. Jack notices how even those small spells -- small compared to some of what she's done today -- make her eyelids flutter as if she's about to collapse.
When they're finally released, the CTU agents leave them alone in the room for a few moments, and Jack turns to her.
"What are you going to do now?"
She shrugs, pushing her hair out her eyes. "Stay here for the night, I guess. I don't have the energy to translocate home." A huff of laughter. "And I definitely don't have the energy for O'Hare. What about you?"
He smiles a little. "Same. I know some hotels around here to crash in." Looking her over, he adds, "You want to share a cab?"
She glances at him. "Do I look that bad?"
"Yes." No hesitation. It gets another weak laugh out of her.
"Sure, then." She levers herself to her feet. "Think you can get CTU to pay?"
"I doubt it. Think you can get the FBI to pay?"
"I doubt it."
***
Nita falls asleep on the cab ride to the hotel; Jack's sorry to wake her up, and waits until after he's paid to do so. She frowns at him when she realizes what he's done. "I could've kicked in."
"I covered it," he assures her. "It's fine. Now can you get into the hotel?"
She gives him a look that's half annoyance and half amusement, and hauls herself out of the cab under her own power.
There are two rooms next to each other available; they collect their keys and head for the elevator. Inside, Nita pulls out her phone and frowns.
"Jack, can I borrow your phone? My battery's dead."
"Yeah, here--" He pulls out his own, checks the battery, and passes it to her. "Who're you calling?"
"A friend. I'd use the land line, but I need a satellite."
"You can give it back to me in the morning."
"No, it'll only take a few minutes," she assures him, as the elevator dings and opens. "Leave your door open and I'll bring it over?"
He hesitates -- old habits don't like the idea of leaving his door open and unlocked -- but nods. Nita heads for her room and he heads for his, flipping the latch to keep it open.
Inside, Jack suddenly realizes how very much he needs a shower. He's covered in grime, and someone's blood -- some of it's probably his. He heads for the bathroom, strips down, turns the water on as hot as he can stand it, and lets the roar of the water drown out his thoughts.
It's not quite loud enough to drown out the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut, though. Shaking water out of his eyes, he pulls the curtain half back.
It's Nita, holding a robe closed around her.
"Jesus, Nita--"
"Can I come in?" she whispers, and for some reason it gives him pause.
"Nita--"
She steps closer. He wipes water off his face. "How old are you, Nita?"
"I'm twenty-four," she says, defiant, but tired. "I'm old enough for the FBI to put in the line of fire. I've been old enough to die for ten years. I'm old enough to know what I want."
"And I'm old enough to be your father. Nita--"
"Please," she breaks in. "Please don't -- I need, I need something that's Life. I spent too much time destroying it today."
A long pause.
Jack holds out a hand.
Nita lets out the breath she's been holding, sheds her robe, and steps into the shower.
She's in no better shape than Jack, and the water runs brown and pink around their feet for a minute as they stare at each other. Finally, Nita reaches out and touches one of the network of scars on Jack's chest.
"How are you still alive?" she murmurs, wonderingly.
In reply, Jack reaches out and runs his fingers over the parallel scars on her belly. She sucks in a breath, and he half draws back. "Sorry -- do they hurt?"
"Not anymore. Not much."
"How'd they happen?"
She quirks a smile, and holds her arms up over her face. There are matching scars there. "I got clawed," she says.
The pose pushes her breasts forward. Jack wonders if she did it on purpose, even as he puts his hand on her hip, drawing her closer.
No resistance. She moves forward, looking into his eyes; cups his face in her hands, and kisses him. Jack's hand slides over her scars again as he deepens the kiss, down her belly, between her legs. Nita moans and hitches closer, as the water beats on them and runs clear down the drain.
***
Neither of them last long. They're desperate for the touch, the sensation, after twenty-four hours that left them numb; they're too exhausted to keep it up long. Nita falls asleep on top of the covers, wrapped in her robe.
When she wakes up late in the morning, the covers are over her. There's a note on the bedside table: I'm sleeping in your room. Order room service. CTU is picking up the bill.
You were great. Don't let it take you down.
She puts the note back, carefully, guessing that if she goes over to the other room, Jack will be gone; turns over, and falls back to sleep.
THIS ONE IS KAREN'S FAULT.
When the dust finally settles, Nita and Jack are dusty, bloody, bruised, exhausted, and numb.
And in Chicago.
CTU: Chicago keeps in debriefing for two and a half hours. It takes Nita summoning the last of her energy to produce a wizard-light to convince the agents of their extraordinary escapes -- and then her digging even deeper into her reserves to wipe the memory of that reveal from their minds. Jack notices how even those small spells -- small compared to some of what she's done today -- make her eyelids flutter as if she's about to collapse.
When they're finally released, the CTU agents leave them alone in the room for a few moments, and Jack turns to her.
"What are you going to do now?"
She shrugs, pushing her hair out her eyes. "Stay here for the night, I guess. I don't have the energy to translocate home." A huff of laughter. "And I definitely don't have the energy for O'Hare. What about you?"
He smiles a little. "Same. I know some hotels around here to crash in." Looking her over, he adds, "You want to share a cab?"
She glances at him. "Do I look that bad?"
"Yes." No hesitation. It gets another weak laugh out of her.
"Sure, then." She levers herself to her feet. "Think you can get CTU to pay?"
"I doubt it. Think you can get the FBI to pay?"
"I doubt it."
***
Nita falls asleep on the cab ride to the hotel; Jack's sorry to wake her up, and waits until after he's paid to do so. She frowns at him when she realizes what he's done. "I could've kicked in."
"I covered it," he assures her. "It's fine. Now can you get into the hotel?"
She gives him a look that's half annoyance and half amusement, and hauls herself out of the cab under her own power.
There are two rooms next to each other available; they collect their keys and head for the elevator. Inside, Nita pulls out her phone and frowns.
"Jack, can I borrow your phone? My battery's dead."
"Yeah, here--" He pulls out his own, checks the battery, and passes it to her. "Who're you calling?"
"A friend. I'd use the land line, but I need a satellite."
"You can give it back to me in the morning."
"No, it'll only take a few minutes," she assures him, as the elevator dings and opens. "Leave your door open and I'll bring it over?"
He hesitates -- old habits don't like the idea of leaving his door open and unlocked -- but nods. Nita heads for her room and he heads for his, flipping the latch to keep it open.
Inside, Jack suddenly realizes how very much he needs a shower. He's covered in grime, and someone's blood -- some of it's probably his. He heads for the bathroom, strips down, turns the water on as hot as he can stand it, and lets the roar of the water drown out his thoughts.
It's not quite loud enough to drown out the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut, though. Shaking water out of his eyes, he pulls the curtain half back.
It's Nita, holding a robe closed around her.
"Jesus, Nita--"
"Can I come in?" she whispers, and for some reason it gives him pause.
"Nita--"
She steps closer. He wipes water off his face. "How old are you, Nita?"
"I'm twenty-four," she says, defiant, but tired. "I'm old enough for the FBI to put in the line of fire. I've been old enough to die for ten years. I'm old enough to know what I want."
"And I'm old enough to be your father. Nita--"
"Please," she breaks in. "Please don't -- I need, I need something that's Life. I spent too much time destroying it today."
A long pause.
Jack holds out a hand.
Nita lets out the breath she's been holding, sheds her robe, and steps into the shower.
She's in no better shape than Jack, and the water runs brown and pink around their feet for a minute as they stare at each other. Finally, Nita reaches out and touches one of the network of scars on Jack's chest.
"How are you still alive?" she murmurs, wonderingly.
In reply, Jack reaches out and runs his fingers over the parallel scars on her belly. She sucks in a breath, and he half draws back. "Sorry -- do they hurt?"
"Not anymore. Not much."
"How'd they happen?"
She quirks a smile, and holds her arms up over her face. There are matching scars there. "I got clawed," she says.
The pose pushes her breasts forward. Jack wonders if she did it on purpose, even as he puts his hand on her hip, drawing her closer.
No resistance. She moves forward, looking into his eyes; cups his face in her hands, and kisses him. Jack's hand slides over her scars again as he deepens the kiss, down her belly, between her legs. Nita moans and hitches closer, as the water beats on them and runs clear down the drain.
***
Neither of them last long. They're desperate for the touch, the sensation, after twenty-four hours that left them numb; they're too exhausted to keep it up long. Nita falls asleep on top of the covers, wrapped in her robe.
When she wakes up late in the morning, the covers are over her. There's a note on the bedside table: I'm sleeping in your room. Order room service. CTU is picking up the bill.
You were great. Don't let it take you down.
She puts the note back, carefully, guessing that if she goes over to the other room, Jack will be gone; turns over, and falls back to sleep.