Dear Universe,

I don't know if you're the right, um, entity to go to about all this, but there are a few items I'd like to bring to your attention. Deal with them as you see fit, or, you know, not at all. Your prerogative.

1. I don't ever want to see that Slither trailer ever again. It starts out with that weird-ass music making you think it's some lame romantic comedy and then before you know it you're in that barn with the balloon-lady who is, according to the IMDb posters, all filled up with alien spawn, and, um, it just takes things to an entirely unexplored level of disturbing and I personally would rather not follow it on its journey. (P.S. - IMDb says Nathan Fillion is in the movie. Actually, his name comes first in the list of cast members, so I would imagine that he has a big role, but I could be wrong. He's not the guy with glasses whose head gets all Medusa'd up, is he? I don't think that's him. So where is he in the trailer?)

2. I could really do without the creepy T-Bag dreams. He's a fascinating character with some right witty lines, but I don't know that my subconscious is a good place for him to be.

3. The sinus headaches? Super uncool. Just when I start to think the pressure and discomfort is going away I get up and go to do something and it all comes back. Once again I tell you - super uncool.

4. I made sugar cookies. Want some? They've got sprinkles.

I think that's all for now. Have a beautiful day.

Yours most truly,
Perp.

---

Title: four things that never happened between Jack Bauer and Chloe O’Brian and one thing that, well, you never know.
Author: Perp.
Pairing: Jack/Chloe, though it's really more like Jack & Chloe
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): drinking, implied stuff, use of the word "shitty"
Category: general, humour
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joel Surnow and Robert Cochran, not me. No profit do I make from endeavours such as this one. I do this solely out of madness love.
Summary: Boo to summaries. The title says it all.
A/N: My apologies in advance. All of this was really so much cuter and more amusing in my head, I swear. Part i was, at least in part, inspired by halfshellvenus' response to one of the titles I submitted when she did the "Fics I Never Wrote" meme: "Never, Never, Maybe." Bellick ballroom dancing. Brilliant. Anyway, so, *tips her hat in halfshellvenus' general direction* I struggled like crazy with number ii, and when I told Scott about it he was like, "That doesn't sound like something they would do," to which I responded (though not in so many words), "Dude, that's kind of the point."

For the sake of this fic, Jack's eyes are blue. Google tells me that Kiefer Sutherland has Heterochromia, which means that one of his eyes is a different colour from the other, but the various sources are divided as to the colour of the second eye. Wikipedia says one blue, one brown; Google Answers says one blue, one green. So! Because I am such a sucker for accuracy (and because staring at a whole bunch of Kiefer Sutherland pictures didn't seem to me to be a bad way to spend fifteen to twenty minutes) I did some visual research. And I don't know, but they look blue to me, so my guess is that he wears contacts to make both the same colour. (Completely gratuitous aside: Kiefer playing hockey makes me smile.)

Heavy on the dialogue. Not at all meant to be taken seriously. Not beta'd. Italics indicate thought when they're not indicating emphasis, or anything else for that matter. Party on.



four things that never happened between Jack Bauer and Chloe O’Brian and one thing that, well, you never know

i. teamwork

A “team-building workshop,” Bill had called it. One of many to come. The order to attend, he’d said, had come from on high. It had been issued by someone Big and Important with a background in Human Resources and a whole lot of time on his (or her) hands. A memo had even been sent out. Attendance is mandatory, it read. All employees will be compensated for work time missed. Dress is casual. Show up prepared to participate.

Thus, all of the CTU employees were divided into three groups. Each group would attend on a different Friday. They would team-build, they would participate, they would ballroom dance.

“Chloe, I’m supposed to be leading,” Jack calmly informed his reluctant dance partner.
“Yeah well you’re not doing a very good job of it.”

They were learning the waltz. It was supposed to foster trust and encourage communication between co-workers. It was supposed to break down invisible but omnipresent barriers and create an atmosphere of openness. It wasn’t doing any of this. The waltz was broken, or, at the very least, horribly ineffectual.

“Try to be a little lighter on your feet, Chloe,” the diminutive instructor suggested, and Jack had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud at the face the fair-haired Senior Analyst made in response to said suggestion.
“Who is this woman?” Chloe whispered.
“Polly. Our guru for the day.”
“This is such a ridiculous waste of time.”

Polly issued more instructions: “Back straighter, Chloe. Relax your arms.”
“Oh, shut up,” Chloe snapped. It had come out louder than she’d meant for it to and, as a result, everyone, including the instructor, had stopped and turned to look at her.
Jack grinned and gently patted his partner on the back. “I think we’re going to take a little break, Polly, if it’s all right with you,” he announced.

Thus began and ended the CTU team-building experience.

ii. a bet won, a bet lost.

“Stay still.”
“I think it’s too small.”
“It’s a little snug, but I’d be able to get it done up if you’d quit moving around so much.”
Jack made various grunting noises as he tried his best to stay still. It was a problem for him, this business of staying still. Jack wasn’t entirely sure he was even capable of doing such a thing.

The “it” in question was a dress. It was a simple mauve cocktail dress that Chloe never wore any more, and Jack was wearing it. He wasn’t wearing it particularly well, but he was wearing it just the same. Anyway, it was only for the party, and he’d had to endure far worse things in his life than a bit of slinky fabric, pantyhose, and a pair of three inch heels.

“Okay, that’s it. Let’s have a look.”
Jack turned and met with his reflection in the full-length mirror somewhat apprehensively, not for a second missing the sight of Chloe standing close by, frowning slightly and giving him a quick once-over.
“Is mauve not my colour?” he quipped.
“No, it’s not that,” Chloe said, her tone serious, “It’s just that I think we’ll have to shave your legs.”
“I think you’re right,” Jack agreed, the skin around his blue eyes crinkling with laughter. “Get the razor.”

iii. another time, another place, another world

The elevator would have to break on a day like today, thought the conservatively dressed blonde woman. Impatiently, she shifted from side to side, staring at the ceiling, waiting for help to come. Help. Like, the elevator repair man, or a bunch of (sweaty, attractive – NOT NOW, for crying out loud) firemen, or the National Guard or something.

Shift, shift, quick glance over at the only other elevator occupant, shift. The only other elevator occupant was not overly tall, not awkwardly short. Rugged and unshaven. What’s he doing in a place like this?

“I’m sure someone will be here to fix it in a minute or two,” said the rugged man. His voice matched his appearance, but she had to admit that neither was altogether unpleasant. “Did you have an interview today?” he asked, his tone genial.
“Yes.” Shift.
Rugged man smiled and caught the woman’s gaze. His eyes were blue, she noticed. Why did I notice that? Frowning, she returned her attention to the ceiling of the elevator.
“Yeah, me too,” he said. “I don’t think I got the job though.” Saying this, he chuckled, and it was a soft, low, rumbling noise that was more like rolling thunder in the distance than any sort of normal, human chuckle. Not altogether unpleasant.
“Yeah, well, my interview didn’t go so well either, so I guess we’re having equally shitty days.”
“I guess so,” said the man, laughing heartily.

A great silence then ensued, the kind that feels aeons long but is, in reality, no longer than a minute or so. Nevertheless, a minute spent in silence with a rugged, not altogether unpleasant stranger in a warm, broken elevator is, more often than not, a minute too long. Try it some time.

“Do you want to have sex?” the woman finally blurted, and in response the only other elevator occupant shrugged his shoulders and said, simply, “Yeah. Sure,”

iv. one hell of a day

“You know what, Chloe?”
“What, Jack?”
“This was a really, really, really, really, really good idea.”
“I know. But… thanks.”
“It’s been a hell of a day.”
“You can say that again.”

It had been a hell of a day. Once over, after the heroes had finally been given permission to go home to sleep, Chloe had grabbed the lonely, downtrodden, and weary Jack and quite plainly informed him that he was coming over to her place so that she would have someone with which to get very, very drunk on obscenely expensive scotch. She had not actually said obscenely expensive. That would be too flowery and flowery was a waste of time. It had been, though. Obscenely expensive. The scotch.

And so now they were drunk. Drunk and sitting on the floor in Chloe’s modestly furnished den. It seemed to Jack that it had all happened very quickly, the process of getting drunk. Chloe had snorted and called him a lightweight, he remembered.

“Chloe, I don’t think I’ve ever told you this before, but I really appreciate your… your friendship.”
“Thanks, Jack,” Chloe replied, her forehead wrinkling as she searched for an appropriate and genuine sentiment in the threads of the taupe rug that lined her living room floor. “I appreciate your friendship too.”
“And thank you for this, for sharing your scotch and the floor of your den and your company.”
“You’re a really effusive drunk, you know that?”
“Maybe so, but some things just need to be said, and if only said while drink, better than never said…ever.”
The man has a point was the thought that ran through Chloe’s mind as she snuck yet another glance at her drinking buddy. The man, otherwise known as Jack Bauer, who just happened to be, at the present moment, all drunk and comfortable and untucked, and here in her den sipping her scotch.
“Chloe, are you checking me out?”
“No. Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. I just thought I might have caught you checking me out. It’s all right if you were, you know. It’s not a big deal.”
“Well, I wasn’t.”
“All right,” Jack said, raising his hands in surrender, “All right. You weren’t checking me out. You weren’t even looking at me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Liar.”
“Lightweight.”

v. best woman

It had, in the very beginning, started out as a small to-do, but Mr. Heller had insisted on fanfare, and so now it was a moderately-sized to-do with white flowers and expensive catering and a large group of people Jack had never met before, more than half of which worked at some level of government. And Jack Bauer was nervous.

“Chloe, will you give me a hand with this damn boutonniere.”
“Yeah, one second, Jack. Okay, hold still. There.”
Jack took a quick look at himself in the mirror. “Is my tie on straight?”
“It looks fine to me. Why are you so nervous anyway? I mean, it’s not like you haven’t done this before.”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just wondering if I’m doing the right thing.”
“Well don’t ask me about that. I’ve never been married before.”
The frazzled groom let out a nervous laugh as he continued to stare at his reflection and primp.
“I keep thinking about what Kim said, about how whenever she’s around me bad things happen. How do I know that Audrey doesn’t feel the same way?”
“Well, she’s marrying you, so I don’t think—”
“Maybe this is a mistake. Chloe, I could be ruining her life. I coul—”
A sudden slap across the face derailed Jack’s frenzied train of thought.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Chloe said, looking startled, “But you’ve got to pull yourself together, Jack!”
Still reeling from the blow, Jack leaned over to examine his slightly reddened cheek in the mirror before turning to his well-intentioned assailant and giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze.
“Thanks, Chloe,” he said, his voice gruff but at the same time unmistakably warm and sincere, “I needed that.”