what some call insanity

Two fics! First one, 'Guarded', is Tom/Karen (and Bill/Karen) for whenidream - it was supposed to be fluffy but the angst overtook it! Sorry >.< The second one. 'Understanding', is Bill/Karen, with a little Tom/Karen if you squint. It's been sitting half finished for months, so here it is, finally. LOL.



Karen had just settled herself at the table when the phone rang shrilly from the counter. Rolling her eyes, she exchanged an exasperated glance with Bill and leaned back to grab it.

“Hello?” she answered. The word was still foreign on her tongue. Seven months after retiring (if she could call it that) and she still had to bite back the instinctive ‘Hayes’. Bill had the same problem, she knew – the other day he had answered ‘CTU, Buchanan’ and prompted the caller to hang up, thinking he had the wrong number.

“Karen, is that you?” asked a familiar voice, though more strained than usual.

“Tom! This is a surprise – how have you been?” she greeted, smirking playfully at Bill, who had a vaguely amused look on his face. As a tense silence met her on the other end of the line, however, the grin faded from her face. “Is everything okay?”

“I can’t talk about it over the phone,” was all he said. “There’s a situation, and I’d like you to come down to D.C. Bring Bill as well. I’ll arrange a plane to take you from the nearest military base directly to the White House.”

Frowning, Karen didn’t ask any more questions. “We’re on our way,” she simply said, and Tom let out a sigh of relief. Did he really think I’d say no?

“Thank you,” he told her sincerely, before hanging up. Bill was looking at her, concerned.

“What’s going on?” he asked, standing up. “Where are we going?” Karen shook her head, silently thankful that she didn’t have to talk him into it. True, his rather passionate dislike of Tom Lennox had diminished since he had gotten them out of trouble, but that didn’t mean that he liked the man.

“The White House. There’s a situation, but that’s all he could say over the phone. I don’t know how serious it is, but Bill – if they’re calling us in –” She kept any fear out of her voice, but was grateful nonetheless when he moved closer and placed a hand on her arm.

“It could be anything, Karen,” he told her seriously. “It could be a case we’ve worked on in the past, maybe they’re understaffed – don’t worry about it until we get there, okay?” He kissed her forehead, and she smiled against his neck, nodding. One of the reasons she married him was because of his ability to keep her sane by always saying the right thing. (Other reasons included how quickly he diffused her infamous temper, and the sound he makes that she first heard on their third date. If it wouldn’t raise questions and leave her incapable of getting anything done, she would quite readily make it her computer greeting.)

“We should probably pack a few things,” she told him, pulling back. “I don’t know how long we’ll be there, we’ll probably have to get a hotel.” He squeezed her arm before letting go, following her upstairs to gather their things.
**

Her hair was slightly mussed as she stepped off the plane, and as she walked toward him he could distinctly see a flush in her cheeks. “Tom!” she smiled, coming closer and shaking his hand. “It’s good to see you.”

“Wish I could say the same,” he joked, voice a little bit higher pitched than usual. Karen smirked, raising an eyebrow, and Tom conceded exasperatedly. “Yes, it’s good to see you too, Karen.” Bill was following close behind her, and they shook hands quickly as well. His jacket, Tom noticed, was slightly wrinkled, almost as though it had been lying haphazardly on the floor. Trying to block any mental images that were sure to bombard him, he gestured for them to follow.

“What’s going on?” Karen asked, easily keeping his pace in her heels. “Why have you called us in?”

“We’re severely understaffed,” he explained shortly, “and one of the women the President brought in recommended calling you.” Bill glanced at his wife, but she was listening intently, eyes focused on Tom.

“What’s the situation?” she persisted. Tom sighed, stopping as they entered the building. He didn’t speak until they had passed through the many layers of security into his office.

Bill settled onto the couch next to her while Tom closed his door and turned to face them. “Jack Bauer disappeared four months ago,” he said. Bill’s face hardened, and Karen took his hand in hers, squeezing it. Of course. It’s always Jack Bauer. “There was no sign that he was abducted or taken anywhere against his will, but the FBI has been investigating nonetheless. Three weeks ago he called the President and said that there was a terrorist organization planning to release a fatal substance into the water supply of downtown New York. He provided detailed information – information that turned out to be true, and lead to the arrest of several high profile terrorists.” Karen frowned, leaning forward to hear better. “A week later he told us about a suicide bomber in Las Vegas. The same thing happened – he was captured before any damage could be done.”

“Where is Jack now?” Bill cut in tightly. Tom shook his head.

“We don’t know. He never stays on the phone for more than two minutes. We’ve got agents working to find him, but so far there’s been no luck. But the reason we called you in is because he called again, yesterday. He wants to speak with you two and another woman, Chloe O’Brian.”

Karen closed her eyes briefly. “When?” she asked, not looking at either of them.

“In four hours,” Tom said, speaking mainly to her. “Karen, you know I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t have to, but we need to know what he’s been doing and where he’s getting this information.”

“No, I know,” she answered quickly. “Okay. Where are we supposed to meet him? How do you know he’ll even be there?”

“It’s Jack, Karen,” Bill told her quietly. “He’ll be there.” Karen glanced at him.

“Bill, I know he’s your friend; I care about him too. But you can’t deny that – after all he’s been through, we don’t know if he’s stable or even sane! We haven’t seen him since we left, who knows what’s happened?” Bill didn’t answer. “Okay. Tom, what’s the President’s take on all this?”

“He trusts Jack Bauer,” Tom replied, and she could tell he was struggling not to roll his eyes. “The Vice President is trying to convince him to at least consider that the circumstances are suspicious, but he won’t hear a word against him. Actually, I was hoping that you could talk to him – he trusts you more than either of us.” She noted a slight flatness to his tone, and nodded, ignoring Bill’s annoyance at this agreement. He began to say something but was interrupted as a heavily pregnant Chloe O’Brian barreled into the room.

“Security called and told me you were on your way, I figured you’d come up here first – oh, Mr. Lennox, the President wants to see you.” Tom nodded, exasperated, and Karen felt for him – Chloe was hard to take as she normally was, but pregnant? She shuddered just thinking about it.

“Hi, Chloe,” Bill said, standing to shake her hand. “How have you been?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure that my uterus is going to explode, I have to pee every five minutes, my back is about to snap in half, Morris can’t give a massage to save his life, and I broke my favorite pair of shoes – but other than that, great,” she replied. To Karen’s amazement, she couldn’t detect an ounce of sarcasm. “What about you, Mr. Buchanan? Oh, and Ms. Hayes - I mean, Mrs. Buchanan?” She looked uncomfortable, and Karen resisted the urge to laugh. Much as she hated to admit it, she’d missed the younger and socially awkward woman.

“Karen’s fine, Chloe,” she told her. “We’re doing all right. Listen, I’m going to go find Tom – I want to speak to the President as well. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She felt Bill’s eyes on her as she rushed out of the room.

“Tom, wait,” she called, spying him at the end of the hall. He turned to face her.

“What is it, Karen?” Stopping, she lowered her voice.

“The President – how has he been doing? You said that he refuses to hear a word against Jack, and there have been rumors – I know that they’re just that, but Tom, is he up for the job? It’s only been seven months!”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Tom replied, his voice guarded. “He’s been…different. He relies on his sister for nearly everything.” Karen nodded – Sandra Palmer was her friend, but upon hearing that she would be her successor as NSA, she’d wanted to come up here and demand her job back.

“What about her? Is she good at the job?” He shook his head slowly.

“She’s got nothing on you, Karen.”

“What, was that an actual compliment? Things must be bad,” she joked awkwardly, trying to diffuse some of the tension. Tom grinned.

“You know, I really have missed you around here,” he told her. “How’s Vermont?”

Karen sighed. “It’s – it’s a retirement. I didn’t think I’d be there so soon. But it’s nice. Quiet.”

“You hate it, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. She shook her head, not sure she liked how Tom had picked it up in five minutes when Bill hadn’t in seven months.

“It’s not that I hate it. I just – it wouldn’t be my first choice. I love Bill and my life with him, but…” she trailed off. Tom put a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry things turned out like this.” Karen smiled sadly at him.

“I am too.”

**

He kissed her.

Just for a moment – not long enough to let her respond. His hand fell from her hair and fell awkwardly to his side as she stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly parted in surprise.

In the past, he’d managed to beat down the familiar urge. Oh, yes, it was familiar – when she would stand in front of him, screaming, and her hair fell in front of her flushed face, it would be all he could do not to push her down onto the nearest table.

“Tom?” She broke the silence that had fallen between them. “What – ?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I need to go see the President,” he muttered. “You should go find Bill and Chloe.” Karen nodded slightly, understanding.

“Okay.” Tom started down the hall, stopping but not turning around when she called his name.

“Let me know what the President says,” she said quietly, and he nodded to the air in front of him.





It was late Tuesday evening when the doorbell rang. “Honey, can you get that? I just got out of the shower,” Karen Hayes called downstairs, where her husband sat placidly drinking tea and reading.

“Coming,” Bill replied, both to Karen and to the person on their doorstep. Glancing out the front window, he raised an eyebrow – this was certainly unexpected. He opened the door, allowing a sudden rush of cold air in. “Tom! What brings you here?”

“Hi, Bill,” Tom Lennox greeted, arms folded across his chest and briskly rubbing his arms. “Is Karen around? I need to talk to you both.” Bill nodded, moving aside to let the shorter man in.

“Sure. Let me go get her. Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured toward the tan leather sofa, which Tom sat down on gratefully as Bill made his way upstairs. Karen was running a brush through her hair, longer now than it had been during her working days.

“Who was it?” she asked, glancing up at him in the mirror. The bemused expression on his face worried her – old habits.

Bill shook his head. “It’s Tom Lennox.”

“Tom? What is he doing here?” she asked, taken aback. Bill shrugged.

“He didn’t say, just that he wants to talk to us. I can’t imagine what he’s doing in Vermont.” Karen understood what he wasn’t saying – this couldn’t be good news. She nodded, grabbing a headband from the dresser and pulling her hair out of her face before leading him downstairs.

Tom stood up when he saw her, surprised. He wasn’t sure what he had expected – certainly not a business suit and heels at this late hour – but come to think of it, he had never seen her in anything else. The oversized t-shirt, sweatpants, and woolen socks didn’t quite add up with his image of her. “Karen, it’s nice to see you.”

“Hello, Tom,” she greeted, moving forward to give him an awkward hug. “You should have called; not like I could have cooked anything but I would have at least gotten dressed!” She never really had been good at the small talk. Tom grinned, but it quickly faded.

“I’m sorry to stop by unannounced, but I really needed to talk to you – both of you,” he amended. Karen nodded, sitting down on the sofa, and Bill and Tom followed her lead. Two partially empty glasses of wine were still resting on the coffee table from their late dinner. “It’s about Wayne Palmer.”

“Is he all right?” Karen asked immediately, her eyes becoming rapidly focused. The former president had never awoken from his coma, but last she heard he was stable, and even improving.
Tom sighed. “Karen, he passed away a few hours ago. It looks like a stroke, but the doctors aren’t sure yet. I wanted to tell you before it was made public.”

Bill reached for his wife as she stiffened, taking her hand and putting an arm around her. She squeezed back unconsciously, staring at Tom with a sort of horrified shock.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, and Bill held her closer, allowing the news to register himself. He wasn’t surprised, not really – he knew that despite the hope that Karen wouldn’t give up on, Wayne wasn’t doing well. They tried to visit him and Sandra once a month, and each time, they came away a little more defeated. Still, the sadness that he felt couldn’t compare to Karen’s – she had known him for years, and become very close to him in the time they worked together.

“How’s Sandra?” he asked, trying to dispel the silence that had fallen. Tom looked away from Karen, eyes hollow.

“Not great,” he admitted, and Karen squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears. Not in front of Tom. “I haven’t seen her – I was actually around here, meeting with representatives, that’s why I was able to come here in person. I’m on my way back to the White House after this.”

Karen opened her eyes. “I’m coming with you,” she said. Bill looked at her in alarm but didn’t say anything. “Tom, I have to – please, I have to be there.” Her voice broke and she swallowed hard. Tom nodded, staring past her, and she sighed before closing her eyes once more and visibly collecting herself. When she opened them again they were dry. “Thank you. Give me a few minutes, I need to pack a couple of things.” Standing, she stopped when she felt a hand on her arm.

“Karen,” Bill said quietly. “Do you want me to come?” She met his eyes and gripped his hand, leaning into him slightly.

She sighed. “Bill, I need to do this on my own,” she whispered. Her eyes were dull and she prayed that he would understand.

He did. Of course he did – he always understood. Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he let her go, and she disappeared up the steps, returning not ten minutes later fully dressed and carrying a small bag and her purse.

“We should get going,” Tom said, and Karen realized that he was taking this as hard as she was. A wave of understanding washed over her and she felt more connected to him in this moment than she had in all of their time working together (or rather against each other). Suddenly she didn’t know what to say to him, how to thank him for thinking of her and coming to tell her in person. Instead she just nodded and turned to Bill.

“I’ll be home soon,” she told him, and he hugged her close, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I just – I need to do this.”

“I know,” he reassured her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She kissed him, briefly, fully aware that Tom was right next to them. “See you soon.”

Tom walked her outside to the car parked in her driveway. Just before they got in, Karen stopped him. “Tom, listen,” she began. “I know we’ve had our differences, but I want you to know how much I appreciate you coming here tonight.” Her eyes were shining again. “I know how hard this must be for you, too.”

He didn’t say anything, just sighed and put her arms around her. She hugged him back, grateful that he was here. Much as she loved Bill (and god, did she love him), there were always things about each other that they couldn’t quite relate to; they just didn’t have the same experiences. He could understand the ache of loss, but not when it came to this man, who to him was more of a figure than a person and a friend.

But when she returned two days later, it didn’t matter if he couldn’t really understand. All that mattered was that he was there, holding her. Kissing her. Catching her.