A/N: Wolfmusic218, you're the best. :)

John Reese pushed the heavy oak door and made his way inside Barry's Bar & Grill. More bar than grill, he made a quick visual sweep of the premises as he took several steps inside. It was just after seven in the evening on a weeknight, late enough to draw a small crowd. The place leaned more toward acceptable than seedy, frequented by people with nine-to-fives if the current occupants were any indication.

He made his way up to the bar, grabbing a free seat as he continued to casually look around. He was looking for someone. Edgar Rhyes. Auto mechanic. Someone who was known to spend evenings at this bar and was the last known boyfriend of Finch's new missing number. Armed only with a description, he would order a drink and look around for a moment before asking the approaching bartender. "Scotch, please." The man nodded and went about filling a clean tumbler. When he returned, John placed a twenty on the bar. "Keep the change." The bartender nodded in surprised satisfaction and went about his business. John knew he'd be amenable later if necessary.

Taking a sip of his drink, he started to look around again when a commotion to his far right caught his attention. Two men were about to get into it. John couldn't tell who'd started it but he could tell it was escalating quickly. One of their voices sounding strangely familiar, he decided to pay more attention to satisfy his curiosity.

The familiar voice belonged to Paul Carter.

He hadn't noticed him sitting at the far end of the bar during his initial scans of the place, only seeing the back of his head. He'd immediately dismissed him as he'd been focused on finding Rhyes, who was white. The white guy about to fight Paul threw a punch and Reese rose from his seat. He wasn't one to intervene in bar fights, would have probably entertained himself seeing how this one played out, but this was Taylor's father and he felt strangely obligated.

By the time he made his way over, Paul had landed more than a few punches and the other guy was probably realizing he had messed with the wrong one. Pulling Paul off the unlucky bastard took a little effort. Paul was shorter than he was but solidly built. Strong. Once he'd succeeded, Reese stepped between the two, hand outstretched toward Paul's heaving chest as he turned to the other guy. He jerked his head toward the exit. "Get lost."

With all bar patrons' eyes focused on the three of them, Reese quickly deduced this type of action wasn't a regular occurrence at Barry's, and watched as the certified loser made his bloody way toward the exit. Lowering his arm, John turned to face Paul who immediately recognized him and let out an entirely humorless laugh.

"Great."

John watched as he stumbled slightly before climbing back onto his bar stool and shaking his head at this interesting turn of events. John couldn't blame him. He wasn't exactly thrilled with any of it either.

"What are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be home?"

Reese didn't miss the rest of his question: With my family? He and Paul had met once before. A few months ago at one of Taylor's games. Beyond forced small talk, no other words had ever been exchanged. John didn't know what Paul knew about him. Didn't know what Joss or Taylor had said about him or his job. The official story was that he worked as a private detective so he decided to go with that if the subject came up.

Keeping his sigh to himself, he settled himself onto a stool next to Joss's ex-husband. He would shift his priorities. Work on getting Paul into a cab and safely on his way home before getting a return on his investment with the bartender. "Getting a drink. Same as you." He casually looked around again as the door to the bar opened, still not seeing his target.

Paul turned to look at the door before looking at John. "Looking for someone?"

Reese turned his focus onto Paul. There was something in his voice and it accompanied the look on his face. He may have been slightly inebriated but he was observant. Still capable. It reminded him of himself. "Business."

"Yeah? What kind of business?"

It was there again. Only stronger. And he realized what it looked like. He was alone, in his suit, looking for someone at a bar he never frequented, and Paul suspected the someone was a woman. Joss's ex was still protective of her. He respected that. "Work business. Guy has some information for me."

The door opened once more and John turned his head again, no longer feeling the need to be surreptitious about it anymore.

Paul stared at him curiously. Reese nodded at the bartender who slid his abandoned drink down to him.

"You were military, too." It wasn't a question.

John was surprised people could still smell it on him after everything that had transpired between his military past and vigilante present. He thought the CIA stench overpowered it. He nodded before taking a sip of his drink.

"What else?"

Reese's drink paused in mid air before eventually landing. Apparently Paul could smell that on him, too. "CIA for a few years." He didn't know why he answered truthfully. Why he was sharing his personal business with him.

"I won't ask."

Reese chuckled.

Paul looked down solemnly into his drink. "It's a struggle everyday, man. Keeping all that shit from bringing you down."

John didn't say anything. He knew that to be true. He wondered if that was why Paul was here. Trying to drink away his scars. John had assumed he'd been doing better because Joss had allowed Taylor to spend as much time with his father as he wanted. But he himself slipped up sometimes. No matter how happy he was now, no matter how happy and at peace Joss made him, all the death and destruction he'd witnessed and caused would bum rush him at a moment's notice. He'd roll with it, hide it. And then she'd smile at him or chastise him for leaving crumbs on the couch, and he'd leave it behind again and come back under her umbrella.

It never went away. It went on vacation sometimes but it always came back to put in work.

John rolled his tumbler between his hands. "It gets easier. After awhile…."

Paul shook his head, bringing his drink to his lips. "Naw, man….You just get used to it. Learn how to hide it better."

A beat passed. "Or you find something, someone...who changes you. And you don't think about it as much."

Paul tsked. "I had that. It was enough, too…..I just realized it too late."

John shifted in his seat, beginning to feel the discomfort this odd situation warranted. They were talking about the same thing. The same woman. And two entirely different outcomes. Joss had tried to save her husband for years; she'd saved him the moment she laid eyes on him.

The door to the bar opened again but Reese didn't bother to look. He felt he had to say something. He'd been there.

"I made the wrong decision once. Lost someone I loved. Thought it was too late for me, too. It wasn't."

Paul downed the last of his drink, apparently tired of them nudging the elephant in the room. "She's a good woman. Always was. Always will be."

"She is."

"I didn't deserve her and I'm sure you don't either."

John knew better than anyone that he was right. Nobody did. "I don't."

Paul turned to him then. "I'm gonna love that woman 'til the day I die."

Reese looked him dead in the eye. "I'll never stop." He knew it was none of Paul's business, that he'd forfeited his role as the man in her life, but he understood the interest. The concern. He'd forfeited Jessica, wanted her to be with someone who'd treat her better than he could. But he'd never had the chance to look Peter in the eye and make sure. If he had, she might still be alive. But then he wouldn't have met Joss, and the thought of not knowing her, of not being loved by Joss Carter, almost made his bones cry.

The two alpha men stared at one another, letting egos inflate and deflate, possessiveness ebb and flow, concerns rise and fall.

Paul turned away first, breaking the tension, seemingly satisfied by what he saw and heard. He reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet, leaving some bills on the counter. "She lets Taylor be around you so you must be a good guy. Don't fuck it up."

John nodded, accepting the veiled threat. It was…probably not normal…but he was liking Paul more and more. They wouldn't be friends—John didn't and couldn't trust easily, had a secret life, and was sleeping with the man's ex-wife—but there was understanding there. Respect. Joss had married him and they shared Taylor, a permanent bond. He'd always respect that.

Without saying goodbye, Paul got up from his stool, showing no signs of inebriation. Perhaps their brief conversation had been sobering. Or he was never drunk at all, just going through the self-pity party motions. John knew all about those.

John called after him. "Call a cab." He watched as Paul raised his hand in an aye aye captain salute as he made his way toward the door.

Reese looked around the bar again. Still no sign of Rhyes. It was time to chat up the bartender. Before he did, however, he took out his cell phone and scrolled through his short text message list until he found "Carter." He typed in three words and sent the message before catching the bartender's eye.

Five minutes later, he found himself leaving Barry's Bar & Grill, having gotten a potential tip from the bartender. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he smiled to himself as he tapped his ear piece. She must have finally checked her phone. "Joss."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

He heard her sigh heavily. "Don't scare me like that."

He chuckled to himself. "I can't tell you I love you?"

"Not like that. I'm sitting here thinking something was happening to you and you were trying to say goodbye."

"I'll keep my feelings to myself next time, then, Joss."

He heard her sigh again. "You get on my last damn nerve."

He laughed again. "And you love it." He listened to her huff.

"Bye, John."

He heard the phone click and continued snickering to himself as he walked toward his car. His phone vibrated again and he took it out of his pocket and read the incoming message as he reached his vehicle.

I love you too.

~End

A/N: Thank you for reading. :)