Title: Take It or Leave It

Fandom: 24

Characters: Michelle Dessler/Tony Almeida

Word Count: 5,720

Rating: Overall NC-17

Summary: The Fight. Can it be overcome?

Author's Notes: I like to think of this as Day 2 (or its aftermath), Under Your Skin style.

"I take it this means you aren't coming in," Michelle Dessler remarked quietly from beside him. He'd pulled into a parking space in front of her building, but hadn't killed the engine yet.

The attempt on the president's life had meant he'd been forced to call her back in after she'd already left with her brother. Even though the new shift had been briefed, he'd needed all the hands he could get, and so she'd come back, stashed Danny somewhere, and gone back to work. When it was finally over, or as over as it could be when the leader of the country was in critical condition in an undisclosed hospital and there were no leads as to who had put him there, he'd grabbed his jacket from the locker room and perched on the edge of her desk. Thankfully, the bitch from Division had left with Chappelle and the action didn't garner any undue scrutiny.

He'd volunteered to drop her brother (and her, if she'd wanted) off at home. It would save cab fare and keep her from driving when she was clearly so exhausted. Of course, the more he thought about it, the offer had been both selfless and selfish. With Danny in the car, they didn't have to talk; something that hadn't been a problem for them since the day they started dating.

He rubbed the side of his face. His head was aching again, his ankle too, and he regretted ditching the boot prematurely. He wanted to fall into bed and sleep for about two days. He didn't want to think about the previous day, and how stupid he'd been to believe that she wouldn't jump as soon as Jack Bauer snapped his fingers, or that she'd never be able to lie to his face so cavalierly. He didn't want to worry over how many other things she'd lied to him about.

"I think I should probably head home."

Michelle looked as if he'd kicked her. "Tony-"

He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "Not now, Michelle. Just, not now."

She looked around the dark parking lot, biting her lip gently. Almost immediately, he regretted his sharp tone. He'd implied earlier that everything was behind them. He'd thought earlier that everything was behind them. And yet he was still pushing her away.

"Hey," he added quietly, touching her cheek softly. "I'll call you in the morning, okay?"

She sniffed, wiping her eyes and nodding. "Okay. Okay." She unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed her bag. He watched her finger the handle of her purse before she took a deep breath and looked up at him.

"I-" she seemed to be searching for something to say. "Drive safe, you're exhausted."

He nodded. "I will."

He didn't mean to turn away when she leaned across the console to kiss him, it just happened. Mouth agape, Michelle tore out of the car before he could apologize. He watched her go, waiting to leave until she had disappeared into her apartment, throwing a sad glance over her shoulder. For a split second, he contemplated following her and apologizing, but in the end he put the jeep in reverse and sped out of her complex.

It wasn't exhaustion that had him distracted on his drive, and when he finally got home and into bed, he wasn't able to sleep. Instead, he tossed and turned, and reached out every few minutes to draw her back into his embrace, only to find that she wasn't there.

He woke just before noon the next day, his body aching without the adrenaline that'd kept him going the day before. His first instinct was to roll over, run his hand up her spine and nuzzle her until she agreed to be the one to make coffee, but he stopped himself just shy of encountering cold mattress. Groaning, he dragged himself out of bed, testing his ankle to make sure it would support him before he padded to the bathroom to relieve himself and get some aspirin.

He found himself rolling one of Michelle's hair ties between his fingers as he brushed his teeth. He needed to call her. It wasn't something he was entirely looking forward to, but he'd promised.

He still waited until the coffee had kicked in, and his head wasn't throbbing quite so badly to reach for the phone. He settled on the couch and flicked the remote at the tv, turning the volume on low just to give himself a distraction while he dialed her number. Technically he could have used the speed dial - she'd usurped his parents for the first spot – but the act of dialing gave him time to think.

"Hey," she answered on the second ring, sounding relieved.

"Hey," he echoed.

"I wasn't sure you were going to call," she murmured finally. He felt a brief stab of shame at that. She probably knew he hadn't wanted to.

"I just woke up," he replied, the excuse sounding lame even in his head. Scrunching down in his seat, he shifted the phone. "How long have you been awake?"

He imagined her shrugging. "Couple of hours. I couldn't sleep."

He hummed. He knew the feeling.

"I uh, kept having nightmares."

Her voice was small, and he felt a little guiltier for leaving her alone after a day like that. He should have gone after her.

"Michelle-"

She cut him off. "No, I understand why you didn't want to stay. You, I, I screwed up yesterday. I went behind your back, I lied to you, and I'm sorry."

"But," he interjected, knowing her well enough to know she had more to say.

"But you took Carrie's word over mine and-"

"I took the word of every expert we had on hand, Michelle. Did you expect me to take your gut feeling over their proof? Because we're sleeping together?"

"Well, no, but, you know me, Tony. You know I don't try to rock the boat for silly reasons."

He sat forward, cutting her off as if she was in the room with him. "You know it wasn't personal. I didn't do it to spite you; I made the call that was supported by the evidence."

"And you should have trusted me enough to get you different evidence," she interrupted passionately. "That was all I was trying to do."

"By going behind my back with Jack," he snapped.

He heard her sigh. "Come on, Tony, you make it sound like he seduced me into betraying you."

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't be the first time," he retorted before he really had the chance to contemplate what he was saying.

Michelle's intake of breath was sharp in his ear. "That's not fair," she whispered, making him realize exactly what he'd just done, the line he'd just crossed.

"Michelle-"

"No," she stopped him. "I'm sorry, Tony. I was doing what I thought was right; I was doing what was right. Maybe I went about it the wrong way, but we'd be at war right now if I hadn't. You're the one that told Carrie to spy on me, because you don't trust me, still. I've done nothing but try to prove to you over and over again that I love you and I'm on your side. Why can't you believe me?"

He didn't have an answer for that. He didn't really believe what he'd said, it'd just come out. But the damage was done. She was right, anyway, before yesterday she'd never given him a reason not to trust her. It was his own fault that somewhere deep he still didn't.

"I don't know," he answered finally.

Michelle sniffled in his ear. "Then why don't you call me when you figure it out?"

He was contemplating a dial tone before he could even react.

As if work wasn't crazy enough, he had to resign himself to going through it with Michelle mad at him. She'd hung up on him on Wednesday morning and hadn't answered the phone for the rest of the day when he called. Of course, he hadn't been able to bring himself to swallow his pride and go to her, so he'd chosen to let things be. Which he knew was a bad move, but somehow it was easier than going through it all again with her.

His first thought when he saw her Thursday was that she looked exhausted. He wondered how much sleep she'd gotten, if it was anywhere near as little as he'd managed to steal. Still, he felt tongue-tied when it came time for him to ask her and instead of letting him speak, she took her tasks and clipped out of the conference room. She managed to make herself busy for each subsequent attempt. She didn't even look his way when she left for the day, and he went home and slept fitfully again that night.

He decided on Friday to try one more time after he'd finally punched out for the day, going down to her station and perching his hip beside her keyboard. She jumped, looking him in the eye for the first time since Tuesday night in his car, showing him that she'd probably been crying, and definitely hadn't been sleeping. She looked like hell, just like he felt.

"Can we talk?" he asked finally, fighting the urge to wrap her up and carry her home and beg for her forgiveness.

"Sure," she murmured flatly, looking away.

"In private?" he added after a couple of minutes ticked by in silence. "If you're hungry, we could get something to eat," he added.

Michelle nodded, logging out of her system and reaching for her purse. He followed her out silently, hoping she would agree to take one car – he guessed she'd caught a ride from someone on Wednesday to retrieve her car from the CTU lot – but she produced her keys and looked at him expectantly.

"Where do you want to go?"

He thought for a minute. "Rightys?"

She blinked, looking away. He'd just suggested the place they'd gone on their first date.

"Okay," she agreed, unlocking her car with the remote. "I'll follow you."

He stopped her quickly, brushing his thumb across her elbow. Just the simple touch made them both jump.

"Ride with me, Michelle. I'll bring you back for your car."

She softened a little, leaning into his touch almost imperceptibly. "Fine."

Their conversation on the ride to the diner was mostly shop, and even that was strained. The repairs to the building had already started, but they were going to take close to a month before they were completed. In the mean time, Chappelle wanted him to start thinking about the logistics of restructuring the organization. He'd already put in his recommendations for personnel shifting; he was planning on bringing Michelle on in his old position – she'd been doing his old job and hers for the last few days anyway – and he wanted to make sure she had a say in the new people they brought on board. She didn't seem too surprised by that admission, though she did thank him quietly.

"No Carries, right?" she hastened to ask. He nodded.

"No Carries. I've got Chappelle sending over his list of candidates, and then we can create our own list of interested applicants, and go from there. He gets final say, but I think we can come to a compromise."

That seemed to help, and he saw her shoulders relax a little. Beyond the fact that part of her new job description involved dealing with newly acquired employees, he wanted her to be in the loop. He trusted her, and he had to do something to prove that to her.

He saw her lips twitch slightly as he scrambled around the car to open the door for her, but she let him help her out, taking her hand back almost as quickly as she'd given it to him. She held the door open for him, sharing a small smile with him. There was no wait to be seated, and they were able to give their orders moments later. He smiled; they'd ordered the same things on their first date.

Once they were finally alone, she looked at him anxiously. He bit his lip. He hadn't really thought of what he was actually going to say after he got her talking to him again. She didn't even look angry anymore, just guarded.

"Still having nightmares?" he asked quietly. Michelle nodded, brushing her hand under her nose. "Bad ones?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes."

"Wanna tell me about them?" he asked.

Michelle hesitated for a second before nodding. "I keep having the same three; the country's at war, the bomb going off over LA," she paused. "You're hurt, like Paula, in the explosion at work." He saw her lips tremble and she accepted his comfort when he offered it, holding his fingers tightly. He'd had that same nightmare, imagining her as the one on the gurney, the one bleeding, the one whose life he had to sacrifice for the greater good.

"Me too," he admitted, brushing the webbing between her fingers with his thumb. "We're both okay, though."

Michelle nodded. "It's hard without you there when I wake up."

He could say the same, and he did. Michelle just looked sad at that, which made his gut clench; what were they doing to each other?

"Do you have a pen?" he asked finally, earning a confused blink in response. Seconds later she passed a ballpoint pen to him.

He felt her watching him as he wrote down a series of numbers on a napkin. Her brow furrowed when he passed it over.

"Tony?" she asked in that tone that clearly said she thought he'd lost his mind.

"I trust you, Michelle," he promised, reaching across the table and taking her hand again. "I know what I said and what I did, but I trust you with everything. That's my social security, bank account and every major credit card number I have, anything you want to do with them, you're welcome to."

She snorted, shaking her head and passing it back to him. "You're missing the point, Tony. The point is, deep down, you still think I'd go against you the same way she did."

He shook his head, grabbing her fingers before she could pull away. "I-"

"Don't tell me you don't think that," she retorted, tugging her hand back. "You don't say anything you don't mean, Tony. And it seemed pretty damn believable when you said it the other day."

He took a deep breath. "That's because I'm an idiot. And you were right."

Her cheek twitched, and he slid out of the booth, crossing to her side and squatting. He wasn't quite him on his knees, but he was pretty close. "I wasn't thinking at all. I let my mouth go before my brain the other morning. I don't think you're like her at all, I know you're not like her at all. I'm sorry, Michelle. I love you and I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

Michelle looked around; he guessed checking for onlookers, before meeting his gaze. Her eyes were red again, damp, and stretched his hand out, wiping her tears away. He'd never seen her cry before, not even during sappy movies. He didn't want to see her cry ever again.

She said nothing for far longer than he would've liked. For those interminably long moments he feared that the damage was already done, that she'd say no and send him packing completely, and then she nodded slowly.

"I just want to put this week behind us," she whispered, cupping his cheek. "Can we do that? Just forget about the other day, chalk it up to stress and nerves and everything that wasn't about us at all."

He turned his face toward her arm, pressing his mouth against her wrist and nodding. He wanted that more than anything.

Michelle lifted his chin, smiling a shaky smile.

"I think our waitress is amused by you," she murmured, reaching for his other hand and tugging him up beside her. His hand slid into her hair automatically, forehead dropping onto hers as he fused their mouths together. God, he'd missed her. Even after less than 72 hours. He'd missed her laugh, the sweetness of her kiss, the way she found humor even in the darkest situations.

As he nuzzled her cheek with his nose, she giggled. "You should have seen your face, Tony. I almost wanted to make you stay there a little longer. Nobody's ever gotten down on their knees and begged me to take them back before."

He shook his head. "Believe me, sweetheart, I can do much better things from my knees."

She kissed him again. "I'm looking forward to that."

His fingers laced with hers. They hadn't yet had a fight big enough to warrant make-up sex, now it seemed as if they had. "Get dinner to go and we can get to it even sooner."

She nodded, leaning against him. "And then maybe we can both get a good night's sleep."

His mouth touched her temple. "Eventually."

Her hands were shaking as she tried to get the key in the lock, making her chuckle a little at her own expense before releasing a heavy sigh. She was a mess.

Tony's lips touched her neck softly, the tip of his nose teasing a path up to her ear where she felt his tongue lightly flick her earlobe, the same way she always did to him to drive him crazy.

"I'm a little nervous," she admitted, trying and failing again to unlock her front door. Tony hummed, and one of his hands covered hers, steadying it long enough to turn the key and let them into her apartment.

"Why are you nervous?" he rumbled, following her inside and shutting the door, locking it behind him.

She dropped her purse onto the floor underneath her bar and turned to face him again. The look in his eyes was intent, and she smoothed her hands down the front of her skirt, just to give them something to do. Tony caught the gesture, taking a step forward even as she took a step back. Her back hit the edge of the bar, and she watched as Tony's lips turned downward a little. Instead of speaking, he raised his arm, reaching over and dropping the bag with their untouched meals on the counter. Returning his attention to her, he sidled a little deeper into her space.

"Why are you nervous?" he repeated, lifting his hand to touch her cheek.

"I could have sworn we were over," she confessed softly, leaning into the hand he brought to her face. "After what we both said and did, I guess I resigned myself to waiting a few weeks before taking your things back to you and going on my way."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't have let you go."

She shook her head. "You can't promise that, Tony. You were so mad, I was so mad. I guess I was afraid it wasn't worth-"

The gentle press of his lips cut her off. It was the same soft kiss he'd given her hundreds of times before, but she heard herself moan as his tongue flicked at her bottom lip. She felt his hand slide into her hair, holding her head to his as their mouths slid wetly over one another and her own hands reached between them to pull his hips tighter against hers. She felt him growl slightly as he deepened the kiss, swiping his tongue inside her mouth, tracing her teeth.

The counter bit the back of her shoulders, but she made no move to change where they were standing, instead wrapping one arm around Tony's back, encouraging him to press into her harder. One of his hands slid around her waist, toying with the edge of her shirt before moving to the small of her back and pressing warmly against her skin. She mewled when the hand pulled away, but arched when it returned, touching her breast through her shirt, kneading gently.

She broke the kiss, sucking air into her lungs as quickly as she could. Tilting her head slightly, she saw his eyes were dark, glassy, so sexy and aroused. She kissed him again, a hand worming between them to caress his arousal through his slacks. Tony groaned, fingers tightening on her breast. The hand that had been in her hair moved to her backside. She felt him bunching her skirt in his fist, tugging the fabric upwards until the tops of her thighs were exposed.

"We never got my car," she realized, laughing when he rolled his eyes and bunched her skirt higher.

"I think it'll be safe where it is."

He kissed her firmly once more, driving any thoughts of, well, driving back to CTU to get it out of her head. His hand left her breast, sliding down her stomach to pull her skirt up over her hips and push her underwear down. She shuddered when he dropped down in front of her, helping her step out of her panties and tossing them over his shoulder.

His hands circled her ankles gently, sliding up to squeeze her calves before continuing higher. His breath was hot against her bare thighs and her hand immediately drifted down to latch onto his hair. She squeaked when he gripped her ass and moaned when he used his hold to tug her core down to his mouth.

"Oh! Oh," she gasped at the first lick. Her knees felt weak as his tongue made long sweeps across her center and his hands helped the rocking motion her hips had settled into. She ground against him, pressing down firmer on his face, encouraging him to nuzzle his nose across her flesh. "Right there," she whispered, knowing he didn't need to be directed. He probably didn't need the verbal acknowledgement at all, because she bucked against him at the contact.

His hands squeezed her ass gently, getting her to relax. Her knees bent and his hands pulled her closer, his lips and tongue still driving her to distraction. Reaching back, she gripped the counter as each new slide of his tongue sent shudders down her spine and threatened to send her sprawling to the ground.

Tony grinned as she panted his name, humming into her flesh and making her stiffen again. Her hand tightened in his hair, keening for more.

"Don't stop," she pleaded, feeling her toes curl in her shoes. His hands tightened, holding her firmly to keep her from bucking away. She was so close.

Abruptly, he pulled her even closer, flicking his tongue in quicker intervals. Her grip on the counter tightened and she clamped down on her lip to keep herself from crying out too loudly. The last thing she needed was for the neighbors to come banging on the door because she'd woken their kids up with her loud sexual escapades. She'd already gotten a note about it – anonymous, even though she knew exactly who it was from – but only once. It wasn't something she cared to repeat. Nobody needed to know exactly how easily Tony could send her flying.

And fly she did. Her fingers had a death grip on his hair and his pace never slowed as he pushed her over the edge with sharp flicks of his tongue. Somehow he was able to keep her from falling over completely as her knees went weak. His ministrations slowed, riding out her release with her before he pulled away and kissed his way back to her mouth.

One of his hands covered hers, prying it off the bar and rubbing her tense knuckles gently. She watched him bring her fingers to his lips, kissing them softly.

"I'm sorry," he murmured again. She could tell it wasn't an apology for his gentleness, or for giving her an earth-shattering orgasm without even removing her skirt, or even for the fact that she'd probably drawn blood biting her lip, but once more for the fight.

She grinned, sliding her hand through his hair again, tugging his lips to hers gently. "I think I can accept an apology like that."

The hand that was still on her butt tightened. "Good."

"Mmm," she whispered, kissing him softly again. "Then that means it's my turn to apologize."

She pulled away slightly, kissing the corner of his mouth before sliding her lips down his jaw to his neck. His stubble tickled her cheek and she brushed closer, listening to their skin rasp together.

"I'll even let you take all your clothes off," she murmured teasingly, flicking her tongue lightly across his neck, tasting what remained of his soap and his aftershave.

Tony chuckled. "I just couldn't wait that long. The unbuttoning and unzipping, not even worth it."

Disentangling their hands, she slid her fingers down his chest, stopping at the buckle of his belt. Giving it a gentle tug, she lifted her face back to his.

"How bout I make it worth it this time?"

His thumb brushed the back of her thigh. "I think that sounds fair."

Pulling back just slightly, she reached for the buttons on her own blouse, freeing each one slowly. The look in Tony's eyes made her fingers shake, but she peeled the lapels apart and let it drop to the floor. Tony's head dropped and he kissed her collar, moving lower and nuzzling his nose across the curve of her breast. His hands joined hers in unhooking her bra and guiding the straps down and off her arms. His lips touched her skin again, making her giggle and lift his face.

"I thought I was the one who was apologizing now," she murmured, kissing him softly.

"Oh, you are," he replied, helping her with the skirt he'd bunched around her waist. "I don't remember the last time a girl's apology to me involved me getting to see her naked."

She laughed, her hands landing on his chest and reaching for his shirt. Her fingers made quick work of his buttons and she pushed it off his shoulders, her mouth sliding across his chin and dipping to the hollow of his throat. She felt his groan buzz through his skin and smiled, skimming her hands down his chest, flicking his nipples lightly between her fingers. Tony's hips bumped hers, his slacks rubbing her bare skin.

Taking the hint, she lowered her hands to his belt again, loosening the leather and opening the buckle. She caressed him through his pants again before opening the button and lowering the zipper, pushing the fabric down his hips to the floor. The move would have been fine if he hadn't still been wearing his shoes.

"See, it's just so much work," he teased, toeing off his shoes and flinging them toward the wall before stepping out of his pants. She dropped her head onto his shoulder, smiling sheepishly. So much for her seduction.

He tugged her against him again; his arousal was still pressing insistently into her belly, reminding her that just a thin layer of cotton separated them. His hand landed in her hair, gently tilting her head back to where she could see his eyes.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Tony."

He kissed her softly, dropping his head onto hers again, breathing her in. She squealed, breaking the quiet mood, when he reached down further and pinched her ass lightly.

Smacking his shoulder, she reached for his hand.

"This ledge is killing my back," she explained, slipping out from between him and the bar and attempting to lead him to the bedroom. "Come to bed." Tony shook his head, tugging her back against him.

"Not yet."

His mouth brushed her neck, making her shiver. "I want everything out of the way before your head touches that pillow in there."

She reached back to touch his neck, dragging his head back to hers, lips meeting his greedily. "I was just going to make your head spin so hard you forgot about it all. Your way's probably more long term," she murmured around a smile, pecking his lips and spinning in his arms. One of her hands moved down to his hip, tugging the elastic from his skin and sliding underneath the cotton.

His butt flexed under her hand and they both made an appreciative noise when his hips ground against her. Divesting him of his boxers silently, she took him in hand, stroking his cock slowly from root to tip.

"I am sorry," she whispered, kissing his chest. "I never wanted to break your trust, I swear it was the last thing I meant to happen. I just couldn't let them attack those countries-"

His hand touched her hair, and she felt him nuzzle a kiss across her forehead.

"You did the right thing, Michelle," he murmured, rocking his hips against her hands. "Going to Jack was the right thing."

Her thumb brushed the underside of his shaft, just below the head, and he groaned, his lips ghosting over her skin.

"What about now? Am I doing the right thing now?" she asked teasingly.

Instead of answering, Tony peeled her hand from his body, stalking forward and making her step behind her until her back hit the wall in the hallway. Her fingers connected with him again, sliding across his skin as he palmed her thigh, tugging her leg over his hip insistently. His fingers connected with her center again, teasing her easily back to a state that had her panting and squirming, distracted from her own ministrations.

His hand joined hers on his shaft, stroking slowly once more before guiding him to her entrance. Her arms wrapped around his back, fingers combing into his hair, lips landing against his as he slid inside her. They both grunted when she wrapped her other leg around his waist, feet crossing against his back.

"I think this is just the right thing, don't you?" he asked, dipping his head to kiss her neck, pulling out just far enough to be able to slide back into her deliciously slowly.

She nodded, arching against him, tugging him closer. "I think so," she breathed.

Tony kissed her softly, pushing into her again. "Good."

His rhythm was slow, in spite of the urgency she knew he was feeling, each slide more deliberate than the first. Each thrust left her squirming a little harder in his arms, panting a little harder against his mouth, pulling him a little deeper. She wanted to feel him everywhere, she wanted him to feel the same pleasure coil within himself as she was feeling.

And then he stopped, pinning her to the wall even tighter, his arms shaking from the effort to keep still. Blearily she lifted her head.

"Tony, wha-?"

He shook his head, kissing her slowly.

"You know, George said something to me before he left the last time on Tuesday," he began softly, making her realize he was serious. "He told me I would be a moron to ever let this, you, go. He was right."

She bit her lip, trying to keep a wave of sadness at bay and nodding gently. "He told me to find something that makes me happy and do it." She tugged him closer, a soft naughty smile tugging at her lips. "I think I can handle that."

Tony smirked, starting to move again slowly. "You think this was what he had in mind?" He punctuated his question with a short thrust, making her squeak.

"Oh, I'm sure he had some idea that it could be."

"Yeah," Tony murmured, brushing his nose up her neck. "You're not exactly subtle when you check me out during meetings."

"Me?" she laughed, shuddering when his hips sped up again. "You're the one who- oh!"

It was possibly his favorite way to win an argument, she knew; he knew just how to get her riled up and then steal her breath. Even if it meant she lost the debate, he also knew she secretly loved it when the only thing she could do was hang onto him as he brought them both to the edge.

She dropped her head back onto the wall, whispering for more, practically begging. His breath was coming in uneven puffs, sliding warmly across her neck as his hips snapped faster and faster.

And then she was there, sprawling over the edge with a low cry, gripping him tightly everywhere. Panting his name, she begged him to join her. A few short, shuddering strokes later, he did, tugging her hips as close to his as possible and filling her.

He lifted his head from her neck a couple minutes later, tugging her into an easy kiss.

"The other morning I told you it wasn't personal," he began slowly, pulling away and pressing a soft kiss to her collar. "It kind of was. They would've thought I took your word over theirs because of us and I didn't want that falling on me."

She nodded. "And I wanted you to take my side because of us," she admitted. "I was sure you'd side with me."

He kissed her collar again. "But since you were right, how 'bout I listen better next time?"

Her fingers brushed his hair back. "That'd be nice."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, pressing his lips to hers lightly.

"Me too," she promised.

His arms tightened around her hips and she felt him release a heavy breath, as they let it all go. It was ridiculous how miserable she'd been without him for even just a few days. Hopefully it would never happen again.

"How 'bout we heat up our dinner now?" he suggested after another few minutes of silence.

"How 'bout you heat up our dinner and bring it to me in bed?" she countered with an easy smile.

Tony feigned annoyance. "I just did all the work, and now you want me to slave over a hot microwave?"

She giggled, palming his cheeks and kissing him lightly. "That's my offer, take it or leave it."

He kissed her back, reaching behind him and unlocking her legs from his waist. She slipped back down the wall until her feet were on the floor.

"Mmm, I'll take it, definitely."