Okay.  I'm officially pissed.  My boss, who I usually love, pulled one over me.  I got the weekend off because I promised to go to a convention thing to show off my babies.  However, he forgot to mention it's an out of town event and I'll be spending two nights in a pet-friendly hotel.  The only reason he's still standing is because me strangling him would probably upset the puppies.  *breathes deeply*

Chloe opened her eyes, about a quarter of an inch for about a half a second before clamping them shut and deciding she was never opening them again.  She thought maybe if she just stayed in bed with her eyes closed, she would die eventually, and then the room would have to stop spinning, and her head would stop pounding, and her throat wouldn't ache so much.  She was never, ever drinking again.  Not even for Chase's next birthday.  She tried to remember the night before…birthday, strip club, whiskey.  Chase would have to fill in the blanks. She snuggled up closer to Chase, except that Chase…didn't feel like Chase.  And she should know, because she'd slept next to him more times than she could remember.  'Okay,' she told herself.  'Just open your eyes a little bit, see what's going on. 

‘Maybe just open one eye.'  That's when she saw him, the man in her bed who was definitely not Chase and actually looked a lot like Jack Bauer.  She screamed, and jumped away from him, which was really a mistake, because the room really started spinning, and that's how she ended up falling off the bed.

Her scream woke Chase, probably too quickly because he had his gun out and was looking around a wildly for an intruder.  "Can somebody tell me what the fuck is going on," she asked from her spot on the floor.

Looking down, Chase saw her squeezing her eyes shut and nursing her aching head.  He sighed, put away the gun and crouched next to her.  "On a scale of one to ten, with one being you want to shoot me for talking and ten being you want to die how bad is the headache?" he asked patiently.

"Like a seven.  Or a nine.  Is it always this bright in here?"

Covering her eyes with his hand he said, "I'm going to get you some painkillers then we'll talk okay?"

"I have to throw up," she whined, trying to stand up.

An empty trashcan was shoved into her arms.  "I'll be right back."

"How many times did I throw up last night?  Because I feel like I'll never actually be able to swallow anything ever again,” she asked clutching her plastic companion.

Sighing, Chase answered from the bathroom, "Three times while you were conscious, once when you passed out."  He padded out soundlessly, a relief for Chloe's head, and pressed four aspirin into her mouth.  A cool glass was pressed against her lips and he ordered, "Drink and swallow."

She did what he said.  "Sorry," she muttered sheepishly.

"'Sokay.  We've done worse to each other."  Sitting next to her on the floor Chase stretched out his long legs.  "Now how much do you remember about last night?"

"I remember the stripper and the dancing, and that's where it starts to get hazy," she paused.  "Okay, more than hazy.  Blank.  And is there a guy in my bed?  Because as much as I want you to explain this all to me, I'd like it to be private."

Snorting, Chase said, "Jack'll be sleeping like a log for another hour at least.  I slipped him a low-level sedative with the aspirin last night."

Chloe felt like she’d been sucker punched.  "Jack.  Chase.  Jack is my bed.  Drugged.  Sleeping next to me."

Chase gave her a duh look.  "Of course I drugged him.  I was tired and I didn't want him pawing you in his sleep."

The headache seemed determined to implode her eyeballs and the situation wasn’t helping.  "This is getting worse.  Maybe we shouldn't talk."

 "Okay.  Try this on for size.  Jack told you he loved you last night in the parking lot of the strip club after you threw up on his shoes."  Chase’s simplistic explanation made her roll her eyes.

"I can't do this," she groaned, resting her head in her hands.  "I cannot deal with this, I cannot even believe this.  I'd really like to wake up from whatever fucked up dream I'm having right now."

There was a sharp pinch on her arm.  "Ouch.  Hey that hurt!"

Chase grimaced slightly and said, "Yeah, but it proves you're not dreaming.  And yes, Jack confessed his undying love to you.  You were just too drunk to remember it."

She held up one hand.  "Stop talking. Chase, I cannot do this right now.  I can't even keep my eyes open.  So if you want to help me, just help me pack my shit, and we'll get Angela, and we will go anywhere else in the world, and assuming you didn't accidentally kill him, Jack will wake up and never find us."

Strong arms wrapped around her and she was pulled into the familiar position in Chase's lap.  "We're going sit here until your head stops pounding," he murmured.  "Then you're going to talk to Jack.  Not right away if you don't want.  But you need to.  I don't want him deciding to eat his gun because the last person in his life decides to run off on him."

"Fuck.  Chase, I can't do this."

Closing his eyes Chase forced himself to sound steady.  "But we can," he soothed.  "I'll be right next to you until you tell me to fuck off okay?"

Okay, so she wasn’t going anywhere.  Her head was killing her.  "I am never drinking anything in my life.  And you are never letting me."

Chase nodded, resigned.  He admitted, "I think we both need to lay off on the sauce, for Angela's sake as well as our own."

"Oh god, Chase.  Your sister's bringing Angela over here.  We're supposed to have a party.  I got a cake, and those party hats because she thinks they're funny and I got you a present from her.  It's a camera, because we haven't been the greatest at taking pictures with her so she'll have some when she gets older, but now we won't have any more excuses.  And I have to take a shower, so I don't smell like vomit when she gets here."  Chloe tried to get up as she rambled, but Chase held her firmly.

He muttered, "Shit."  Taking a deep breath he stood them both up.  "Okay, I'll get you into the shower and clean up.  Jack can't be that far under.  Maybe cold water..."

Rounding on her friend, Chloe pleaded, "Chase, the only thing I've ever done right in my whole life is putting her first.  Please, don't let me fuck that up now."

Chase hugged her tightly.  "I know.  You're the best mom I could ever hope to find for her.  No more drinking for either of us.  That's a promise.  Now, can you manage your clothes or do you need help?"  Moving quickly, he guided her into the bathroom.

"I can do it.  I think."  She paused.  "Chase, this thing with Jack," she started to cry.  "I'm scared.  And whatever's going on, I just need you to help me, okay?"

Kissing the top of her head, he promised, "Whatever you need.  I'm going to dump ice water on Jack now.  So don't be surprised if you hear yelping."  He gave her one of his shit eating grins, trying to cheer her up.

She stepped into the shower.  'Cold water,' she thought.  'Of course it's cold, because this just keeps getting better and better.'

Chase reached into the shower and fumbled with the tap until the water warmed up.  "I don't need you getting hypothermia," he said with forced cheerfulness, keeping his eyes politely averted.

"I can't even take a shower by myself, and I'm supposed to be responsible for Jack's will to live?"

"May I respectfully remind you that you're part of my will to live too," Chase shot over his shoulder as he left the bathroom.  "You just have a hangover from hell right now."

The hot water helped at first.  Her head felt a little clearer.  Or maybe that was the aspirin finally working.  She still couldn't remember a damn thing.  Some combination of the steam from the shower and hearing Jack scream sent her over the edge, though, and she threw up again, and started to feel like she might never stop crying.  She fell and cracked her knees on the porcelain, sobbing and retching.  It must have been fairly loud because both Jack and Chase came running into the bathroom.  Without thinking about it Chase threw the shower curtain to the side and climbed in fully clothed.  She clung to him, burying her face in his neck.  "I'm sorry," she cried.  "I'm so, so sorry."

"Everythin’s gonna be fine, darlin'," it was a sign of how worried Chase was that his Bostonian accent was back full force.  "I'm gonna take care a' ya now."

"You can't be here right now, Jack," she said.  Then remembering what Chase said she added.  "I mean, I don't want you to leave the house, but I have to get my shit together and I can't do that if you're in my bathroom."

Jack looked at her longingly.  "Please, Chloe," he begged, "don't send me away.  I just want to help.  Let me help, please.  Let me stay."

She leaned close to Chase, whispering, "You gotta help me here, you gotta make him understand.  I don't want to hurt him, I don't want him to hurt himself, but I gotta get my shit together for Angela right now and you have to help me make him understand."

Nodding, Chase cleared his throat. "Jack."  The older man shook his head slightly and gave his partner an odd look.  "Ya gotta go wid the flow 'ere for da moment.  Chlo's gotta get 'er 'ead on straight 'fore Angel shows up."

"If you leave this house, Jack," she added, "and I have to drag my hung-over ass out to track you down, I will let Chase beat the shit out of you, and if I ever stop feeling like I'm going to throw up, I will help him."

Nodding, Jack reluctantly retreated somewhere else.  Chloe assumed he'd find the guest room.  Chase sat under the pounding water with her, his soggy clothing rasping against her skin.  "How bad did I cut my leg?  Because you're scaring the crap out of me."

"Oh darlin'," Chase said softly, "ya didn't cut it.  Ya bruised ya're knees somethin' awful."  He gently rubbed the abused joints.  "Ya want me ta stay?"

Chloe bit back a sob.  "Chase, dammit, you're scaring me, because you never sound like that when everything's fine."

Sighing, Chase admitted, "Ya're scarin’ me shitless, darlin'.  I nevah saw ya like this 'fore.  I mean.  Not since tha' time we don' talk 'bout."

The little voice in the back of her head, whatever decent part of her was left, was saying Angela's name over and over again.  Steeling herself, she looked into his eyes, swallowing at the look he was giving her.  "Chase, I do this.  For Angela, we're going to do this.  You need to go put on something else.  You need to get my some clothes.  And I'm going to sit here for a minute, and I'll get up, and we'll have a party and then I'm gonna fall apart and you can put me back together, and I know it's a lot to ask, but you have to go now.  And make sure Jack isn't trying to find the sharpest knife in my kitchen."

Unhappy but obedient, Chase left her in the shower, sliding the curtain closed behind him.  Chloe leaned into the warm spray and tried to blank out her mind.  But Chase's voice wouldn't go away, 'Ya're scarin’ me shitless, darlin'.'  She found it much more okay to panic when he was being the calm one.  She could do this though.  She would do this, for Angela.

 "Chase," Jack said, when Chase entered the bedroom and started going through the drawers, "is she?"

The younger man’s movements were agitated.  "Chlo, 'ill be fine," Chase snapped harshly.  "Not dat's it's any a' ya business."  He picked out pair of his denim cut offs, one of his belts, and a t-shirt so worn the logo was gone before digging underclothes for the woman as well.  Putting them on the dresser he stripped and changed into slacks and a button down that had been laying on the floor, doing his best to ignore Jack.  "’Dis ain’t even da worse part," he said.  "Dat'll come when ya tell ‘er everythin’ dat ‘appened las’ night.  ‘nd as much as it's gonna ‘urt ‘er, ya're tellin’ her taday, ‘cause it'll ‘urt worse when she finds out in a year and thinks we lied ta ‘er.  I'm no’ lyin’ ta ‘er."

Jack stared.  "Chase," he finally said, "I'm missing a huge fuckin' piece of the puzzle here.  Help me understand, what's wrong with Chloe?"

"Dat's a conversation ya got ta ‘ave wid ‘er."

Loosing his temper, Jack grabbed Chase and slammed him against the wall.  Chase snarled and snapped, "Wha’ da fuck.  Leggo ya bassard," unconsciously falling even deeper into the old habit.  "She trusts me, Jack, and it took a helluva long time ta earn dat trust.  I'm no’ betrayin’ ‘er, no’ even ta ya.  If ya're no’ gonna kill me, leggo.  I don' ‘ave time for dis shit."

Seeing that he was going to have to kill Chase to claim any sort of victory in the confrontation, Jack dropped the younger man and stalked out of the room.  Chase gathered the clothes he'd pulled from the drawers and walked into the bathroom.  "Hiya, darlin', I got ya're clothes.  Ya doin' alright?"

"I'm fine. Chase.  It's not like that night. I need you to tell me it's not like that night, okay?  And can you give me a hug.  And then we're gonna do this."

Bracing himself, Chase forced his enunciation so the accent disappeared.  She needed him in control and the lapse in his voice wasn't helping.  "Okay, then, darlin'.  You go ahead and scrub down.  I'll sit right here.  Then we'll get you toweled off, dressed, and down stairs.  I set the coffee pot on automatic before we went to bed.  Angel will be here in a half-hour."

Her shampoo smelled like strawberries.  The scent filled the bathroom as she washed her hair and reached for the soap.  "Chase," she began.  "God, Chase, I keep trying to get myself together, and you're so worried about me and I'm scared."  She stopped.  "The cake is on the counter, the hats are in my bookcase.  I think I forgot to get candles, though."

"That's fine.  We'll figure something out."  He reached in and turned off the water.  "You're clean enough."  He shook out a towel and wrapped it around her like she was a child, lifting her out of the tub.  "Let's get you dried off."

Chloe let her wet head rest on her shoulder as she babbled, "I have to brush my teeth.  And take more aspirin, because I threw up what you gave me."

Rubbing the terrycloth over her hair, he agreed, "Okay.  Come on, stand up."  With gentle hands he pulled her to her feet and dressed her in his too large clothing.  "Better?"

"Yeah.  You're always making me better.  Chase," she said, her voice breaking, "am I okay?"

"You're perfect," Chase said inserting the toothbrush in her mouth so she couldn't protest.  "Perfect for me and Angela.  Nothing's going to change that.  Spit," she spat the mouthful of foam in the sink.  "Go ahead and rinse.  I'm going to get you some Advil."

He was treating her like an invalid. "I can get it," she protested.  "I know you're worried.  And it's not Angela, or you wouldn't be here with me, so it must be me.  Fuck.  Don't tell me now.  Just go, don't kill Jack, don't let him kill himself, and I'll be there in a minute, okay?"

Muttering under his breath, Chase said, "Can I at least break his nose?" as he left the bathroom.

Why did he have to be such a guy sometimes? "No," she yelled after him.  "That would scare Angela."

There was a grumble but Chase sighed, "Fine.  You win."

She sighed and looked in the mirror.  'This isn't like before.  I'm fine.'  She heard the doorbell ring and grabbed the Advil, stuffing the pills in her mouth and swallowing quickly.

Angela was perfectly content to babble, held in her father's arms.  She was a bright, brilliant three now and speaking in full sentences.  Chase liked to claim it was because her mother was a genius.  Chase's sister Liz was speaking softly to him when Chloe came out of the bathroom.

The blonde woman paused and leaned against the wall.  She could do this.  She heard Chase ask Liz to come back for Angela, saw that look Liz got on her face sometimes.  Jack was sitting on her couch, and then she saw something she wasn't expecting.  Chase handed Angela off to Jack and steered his sister outside to argue with her.  She told herself to move, but she couldn't.  Jack was sitting there, on her couch, holding Angela, telling her some story about princesses who could slay their own dragons.  She wanted to cry for reasons she couldn't exactly identify, but she took a deep breath and pushed herself forward.

"No, Liz," Chase hissed at his fraternal twin, "don't you fuckin' dare.  Chlo's had a bad day that's all."

The dark haired, female Edmunds was just as belligerent as her male counterpart.  "The woman's a fuckin' mess, bro," she growled right back.  "Chloe needs therapy, not a kid."

Shaking his head, Chase replied, "Angel does her more good than a herd of therapists.  And if you even try to do what you're thinkin' about you've got something else comin'.  Chloe and Angel are my family now.  Not even LA CPS will take Angel if you can't prove abuse.  Because I'm her biological father."  Angrily Liz receded, but the fight wasn't over just paused.

"Hi baby girl," Chloe said, entering the room.  "This is Uncle Jack," Angela informed her.

Forcing a smile, "Uncle Jack, huh?"  'Of course,' Chloe thought to herself.  'Five minutes and he's already Uncle Jack.  Is there anyone in the world who can't be charmed by him?'  She picked her up.  "Your daddy and I were just talking about how much we missed you last night, but you know what, I think your auntie Liz wants you to sleep over again tonight.  But I promise you, tomorrow, you and me and your daddy, we're all gonna go the beach, all day, okay?  You remember that present I showed you we got daddy?  You can give it to him as soon as he gets back in here."

Giggling, Angela wrapped her arms around Chloe.  "Really, mommy?  Will you help build sandcastles like last time.  You're the best sandcastle builder in the whole wide world."

Jack watched them, his eyes unreadable.  "You're mommy's the best at a lot of things, isn't she Angel?" he asked in a neutral voice.

Angela nodded happily.  "Mommy's the best at almost everything.  That's what Daddy says."

"Hey, Angel, did you know that Jack knew you when you were just a little baby?  He and your daddy and I all used to work together."

Turning in Chloe's arms, Angela asked innocently, "Is he a special police man too?"

"Sure, thing Angel baby," Chase walked over to Chloe and her armful.  Stopping a few feet away he cocked his head to one side.  "I must be the luckiest man alive to have the two most beautiful girls in the world love me."

The little girl began to wiggle.  "Go kiss your daddy," Chloe said, putting her down.  "I'm gonna get his cake."

In a blur of blue and white Angela ran over and attached herself to one of Chase's legs.  "Pick me up, Daddy?  Please."  Smiling Chase scooped up his daughter and play growled into her neck.  "I've gotcha now, don't I."  Father and daughter bounced around the room playing a game only known to them.

'Plates, cups, forks, cake, knife,' Chloe thought, her mind running through the constant check list.

She didn’t here him come in.  "This is nice," Jack said quietly, standing at the opposite end of the kitchen.

"Yeah.  She's the best."  Chloe tried not to drop her armful of material.

"Let me help you with that," he said, indicating the growing amount of things she was trying to carry.

Not wanting him anywhere near her at the moment, she shook her head and snapped, "I've got it."

Respecting her space, Jack leaned against the kitchen table.  "Chase's sister seems unhappy about your arrangement," he said carefully.

"I wouldn't think you'd be surprised to find out somebody doesn't like me."  Was he always this oblique?  Because it really didn’t suit him.

He shook his head.  "I never said she didn't like you.  She seems to like you just fine.  Why doesn't she want you and Chase raising Angel like this?"

"Jack, I cannot do this right now, okay?  We're gonna have a little party, Liz'll take Angela, and we can talk about everything that happened last night or whenever.  This is hard enough for me, so if you care about me at all, let it go.  And grab the cake."  She walked back into the living room.

Sighing, Jack grabbed the white bakery box and followed her.  He paused in the doorway, longing filling him as he watched Angela and her father play their silly game.  It reminded him of Kim and himself once upon a time.

"Hey, Angela, I got those silly hats you like," Chloe said, pulling them out of the drawer.  "And I bet your daddy will let you help him open his present."

Chase set down his daughter and let her rush over to grab a golden monstrosity.  In one tiny hand she also grabbed and hot pink tiara and brought it over to her father.  "You need one too, Daddy," she said thrusting it at him.

There was a reason she’d bought these stupid things.  "You look very pretty," Chloe told him, laughing.  "I bet Uncle Jack wants one too."

Entertained, Angela dug through the box to find all of the adults hats.  Jack was just as unlucky as Chase, ending up with something the looked like a purple Barbie crown.  Chloe got a silver tiara.  Sniggering, Chase grabbed the camera and managed to snap two pictures of Jack before the older man stole it and began pursuing Chase around the house, intent on revenge.

'It was a nice party,' Chloe thought to herself.  'We're almost like normal people.  Cake, presents, hats, laughter.  Good for Angela.  Good for Chase.  Good for me, too.  Liz almost didn't look like she would totally take Angela and run away if she didn't know I could track her down in less than a day when she came back to pick her up.'  Chloe was stalling at the moment, washing the same glass she'd been cleaning for the last five minutes.

There was a tap on her shoulder.  Chloe turned and a bright light flashed in her face.  "Cheese," Chase said far too sweetly.  Jack stood in front of her, camera in hand, grinning like an idiot.  Ever so carefully she set the towel and glass to the side.

"Is Liz gone?"

Pulling off the ridiculous pink crown, Chase nodded.  "Yeah darlin', she took Angel with her."

Urgently, Chloe asked, "She didn't cry too much did she?  Oh, and I promised we'd take her to the beach tomorrow."

His warm hug enveloped her.  "Of course we will.  And no, she didn't cry this time.  She was sleeping."

"So we have to do this now?  Rip off the band-aid, right?"  Chase nodded at her.  "Okay, so tell me how Jack ended up in my bed."