Michelle's about ready to collapse. She could not have imagined how this day would go and for a few moments there...she thought she'd lost him.
Tony's death would go against everything she remembered though, and she allowed herself to think that maybe Milliways really was a dream, an odd hallucination that she'd created to deal with her guilt and longing.
But then he called her and his voice reminded her of everything she felt.
Throughout the day, she'd been dreading the end game and when she was kneeling on the cold floor and Jack wasn't breathing she'd had the sudden insight that they'd killed him and she wasn't sure she could live with that knowledge.
But then Jack took a breath and another and she realized that he had never died - just on paper.
Now, she is in front of her home and Tony is looking at her.
Tony blinked. “What?” he asks tiredly, though the realization hits him-the matchbook, the mementos of Michelle and Jack, which he had carried in the pocket of his favorite jacket…
…which had sadly gone up in flames this morning.
“Ah, no. I don’t. Sorry.”
He looks down, frowning, before he remembers something-remembers a slight of hand and a trick he had played…
“Wait a second.”
He begins rummaging through his pockets. Pulling out a small key. “This it?”
For a moment she holds her breath, afraid that this isn't the same Tony at all. The thought of having to relive everything, go through it all again makes her a little queasy. But then he looks at her less confused and she allows herself to relax.
When he pulls out the key she touches his hand, sliding up to his wrist and then she's hugging him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her face pressing against his shoulder. She barely even notices the awkward angle. "Yes," she whispers.
Uh, yeah, awkward angle? Tony notices and feels it, but less than how he feels the warmth and comfort of having Michelle’s arm around him again. He breathes and grins, rubbing his head against hers. “I thought it wasn’t real.”
He thinks, in that clichéd kind of way, that for a moment he’s having that dream again-the one with Michelle. He expects to wake up from it lying next to Jen, or sleeping on the couch. The great irony of the situation was that the latter was true, but not the former.
The familiar smell of her hair fills his nostrils as he blinks awake. It’s late. His back is sore, perhaps from the discomfort of having a human sleep on him in a cramped space for several hours. He looks down at her and closes his eyes for a moment, not wanting to sleep but wanting to savor because it was real, she was real, she was here with him and the possibility of a future with her…fills him over the brim with happiness.
If he were in a musical he’d sing.
Breathing, he wraps his arms around her tighter. Whether he’s afraid she’s going to leave, or whether he’s just hugging her out of sheer joy…he really doesn’t care at this point.
Now just think of how many brains would be broken at Milliways if they found out Tony Almeida was happy for once.
Michelle feels her pillow moving and arms tightening around her. She reluctantly opens her eyes, still a little sleepy. But, it's now dark in the townhouse, which means that it's night.
She glances up at Tony, able to make out his features in the dim light and he's smiling, which makes her smile in return.
Comments 109
Tony's death would go against everything she remembered though, and she allowed herself to think that maybe Milliways really was a dream, an odd hallucination that she'd created to deal with her guilt and longing.
But then he called her and his voice reminded her of everything she felt.
Throughout the day, she'd been dreading the end game and when she was kneeling on the cold floor and Jack wasn't breathing she'd had the sudden insight that they'd killed him and she wasn't sure she could live with that knowledge.
But then Jack took a breath and another and she realized that he had never died - just on paper.
Now, she is in front of her home and Tony is looking at her.
And she realizes she has no idea what to say.
"Do you still have the key?"
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…which had sadly gone up in flames this morning.
“Ah, no. I don’t. Sorry.”
He looks down, frowning, before he remembers something-remembers a slight of hand and a trick he had played…
“Wait a second.”
He begins rummaging through his pockets. Pulling out a small key. “This it?”
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When he pulls out the key she touches his hand, sliding up to his wrist and then she's hugging him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her face pressing against his shoulder. She barely even notices the awkward angle. "Yes," she whispers.
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The familiar smell of her hair fills his nostrils as he blinks awake. It’s late. His back is sore, perhaps from the discomfort of having a human sleep on him in a cramped space for several hours. He looks down at her and closes his eyes for a moment, not wanting to sleep but wanting to savor because it was real, she was real, she was here with him and the possibility of a future with her…fills him over the brim with happiness.
If he were in a musical he’d sing.
Breathing, he wraps his arms around her tighter. Whether he’s afraid she’s going to leave, or whether he’s just hugging her out of sheer joy…he really doesn’t care at this point.
Now just think of how many brains would be broken at Milliways if they found out Tony Almeida was happy for once.
Reply
She glances up at Tony, able to make out his features in the dim light and he's smiling, which makes her smile in return.
"Hi."
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