A/N: A short one, for the start of summer. Careese, of course. No proofing done, as I just banged this out. The title of this I borrowed from Carter's lines in the scene from Donnelly's car when John is captured with Joss from the bridge ("Prisoner's Dilemma" stuff). Have fun!
None of the characters and such belong to me. If they did, well, you know.
It had been a hot one on the streets of New York that day. Temps soared well about the 90s, and even the pigeons were flapping their wings extra hard to keep cool. People up and down the eastern seaboard were feeling the heat, but none seemed to have it as bad the denizens of New York City that day. Brutal humidity was the name of the game.
John Reese was no different. Although he was used to the sweltering temps of Baghdad during combat, somehow the heat of the New York summer always did things to him, got to him somehow. He wasn't sure why; maybe it was all the noise and the ways in which people forgot their manners. Some people were just itching for fights, too, in this heat—and true to form, those that did often found them, with potentially devastating consequences. His wardrobe changed little; however, he was not averse to sometimes leaving the suit coat behind at the library or in Carter's Impala. Sure, he was Superman—but even the Man in the Steel Suit had his limits.
"It's your own fault, John," Joss admonished him as she dripped water from a cool washcloth over his head. The welcome refreshment ran down his salt-and-pepper hair onto his face and neck, and then onto his bare shoulders and chest, mingling with the soft hairs it found there. He closed his eyes at the chill of the water, the hot tension of the summer heat easing with each gentle cascade of it on his body.
"What's my own fault, Joss?" he murmured through her attentions.
"The way you get so overheated in this weather. You know what time of year it is. Leave those damn suits and those long sleeved cotton shirts at home. Don't you have any leisure wear? I know you have leisure wear. I've seen you in it once or twice."
"It's a mental thing, Joss. The clothes go with the job."
"You're darn right it's a mental thing. Just not the way you're thinking. Good thing for you I was home to help you out today. Next time you won't be so lucky. Here, tilt your head back."
"You know, this really isn't necessary, Carter."
"Do you wanna turn into a crispy critter out here? Tilt your head back."
As Joss put down the cloth and picked up the bucket she used with the cloth, John did as she instructed, moaning a little as he got the full benefit of what she was doing as he relaxed in one of her backyard lawn chairs.
"Mmmm...yeah...that's great. Aaaaah..." he purred while she took the water bucket and slowly poured refreshing liquid through his hair and on his forehead. His eyes were closed and she had no choice but to marvel at his baby soft long lashes that she realised could put a lot of women's to shame. She also noted the pink and cream skin, flush from the heat, the pores on his cheeks and nose, the stubble on his chin. His hair was bird-feather soft and his lips were slightly parted, as if in anticipation of some great secret being revealed.
This wasn't her Man in the Suit, crime fighter extraordinaire. This man before her was vulnerable and delicate in his way, a man completely under her hand, dependent upon her for relief. She smiled. Never would she have guessed that they'd get this close in order to share an experience like this. But there they were, in her backyard, on her day off, him getting cooled off after a rough afternoon of chasing a drug dealer hellbent on settling an old score. It hadn't been the plan—but when he'd stopped by to return some copy files and he looked as if he'd been steamrolled a few times over, she just knew she had to help him out a bit.
Besides, she'd availed herself of the hose earlier, clad in a dark blue bikini and sunglasses. Taylor was at a friend's house, so taking advantage of the empty house, she got the idea to turn the hose on and get chilled out the old fashioned way. No sense in not sharing with a friend. Yes, just helping a friend, all she was doing.
"I'm glad you like it, John. I'm just surprised you're letting me have my way on this."
"Mmm...why do you say that, Carter? It's wonderful, even if you really didn't need to go to all this trouble. I'm glad you did."
"I figured you'd say no."
"You don't know me well, then, do you? I never mind a cool down. Although I admit a chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream cone would have done just as well. But you know, this hands-on treatment has its merits too."
"Bet you say that to all the girls, John," she said with a grin.
He slowly opened his eyes at that poin, the green-gray in their depths like a window to the heavens. Before he spoke, he slowly shifted them towards her face and bared his teeth in a slight yet unmistakable smile.
"No, I don't, Detective. Just you."
Joss was flustered, but like the good cop she was, she didn't let on. "You could have fooled me."
"You never asked."
"Is it my job to ask?"
"You ask me about everything else, Carter."
"Yes, and you don't tell me anything when I ask. So what?"
"That kind of thing I would tell you about."
"Okay. Then tell me."
"Come closer," he said softly.
Now she was really flustered, and to cover her internal unsettlement, cleared her throat on top of another grin. "Oh, do I get the real state secrets this time, John? Boy oh boy I can't wait."
But she did as he asked. Upon moving closer to his face, his hand appeared out of nowhere to take the back of her head and move her even closer to his mouth. Upon contact, his lips were warm and wet, his tongue soft and probing, but not forcefully so. The kiss burned its own kind of heat across her lips. The bucket she held she forgot about, and upon dropping it, it splashed water everywhere, including his pants, breaking the kiss.
"Oh, shit!" she swore. "John, I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Joss. I'm not. Not sorry at all."
Their eyes locked on one another, as the weight of what had just happened sank in.
"Um...I'll get you some more towels. Be right back."
Before she turned to go, John grabbed her hand and gently rubbed the skin of her knuckles with his thumb, committing magic and mayhem simultaneously on her system.
"Joss, wait."
"What?"
"I don't have another number tonight. What do you say to cooling down a little more? A couple ice cream cones at the bakery?"
Joss thought about what eating ice cream with John might entail. That could get dicey. Really dicey, really fast. But she loved ice cream, and there was no better day to have it right then.
"Okay. Let your pants dry out here and we'll go."
"Sounds like a plan. Joss?"
"Yes?"
"Did anyone ever tell you what a cool chick you are?"
She grinned at him once more as she retreated into the house, her bikini hips and thighs sashaying for John's feasting eyes.
"John Reese, you ain't seen nothin' yet."
A/N: Again, a short one off the top of the head to whet the appetite for cool days in the summer heat, while we brace for the end of POI (and possibly the end of John Reese). Hope you all dig this one. Stay tuned for the usual madness. Thank you!
