Author's note: This one-shot started off with a prompt I had for my drabbles collection. The prompt was: Rewrite how your OTP first met. I started to write this story and it ended up way too long to include with the drabbles. I hope you enjoy my rewrite of how John and Joss first met.
Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest or its characters.
"How much longer do we have to be here?" Sameen Shaw asked before popping another cream puff in her mouth.
Anxious to get out of the penguin suit himself, John Reese didn't respond. He resisted the urge to tug at his bow tie and remained focused, looking for their number, Paul Carter, to finally make an appearance. Reaching for his earpiece, he gave it a slight tap to communicate with the third partner of their little ring of vigilantism.
"Finch, did you find anything about this guy yet? What makes you think something would happen here?" he asked, cataloging each person in attendance that could possibly be a threat.
"Mr. Reese, I don't believe that anything could happen at the silent auction, especially since Mr. and Mrs. Carter are hosting this fundraiser in their Park Avenue home. However, I did find something very curious. It appears that not all is well for the couple," Harold Finch replied.
"Meaning?" John asked.
"Paul's wife, Jocelyn Carter, filed for divorce earlier this morning," Finch answered.
"So what? Couples divorce all the time. And the fact that this guy kept trying to undress me with his eyes when you had me as a temp at his firm, tells me all I need to know about this marriage," Shaw replied with a deep frown. "I really hope this guy is the perp so I can shoot him."
"Miss Shaw, could you please refrain from shooting anyone tonight? That is not our purpose, no matter how much you think Mr. Carter deserves it," Finch admonished the trigger happy, gun toting, perpetually hungry former government agent.
"Do you know why she filed?" John asked, wanting both of his partners to focus on the task at hand.
"It only says irreconcilable differences."
"See? Cheating. Men are dogs and way too emotional to deal with. It's a wonder how Zoe manages to deal with you." Shaw cut her eyes at John. "How are things, by the way?"
Not wanting to continue with this turn of conversation, John gave a brief, if not a little bit sarcastic, answer. "Just peachy, Shaw. Peachy." But they weren't.
Zoe Morgan, a high priced fixer he had saved a couple years ago, was an on again off again lover of his. It was really a friendship with benefits; however it was more beneficial than friendly. He wasn't immature enough to call her a fuck buddy as Shaw had once coined her, but that was a close description to what it was. Fuck buddies, friends with benefits, lovers, paramours– whatever they were to each other, Zoe wanted more. It was a commitment he wasn't willing to‒ nor had he ever wanted to‒ give to her.
A middle aged woman in a silver sequined evening gown made her way to the podium near the front of the room and waited to get the attention of the guests. "Good evening, everyone. Thank you so much for attending tonight's silent auction. Over the years, we have raised millions of dollars for the scholarship fund and none of this would have been possible without the generosity of our hosts tonight. This year marks the ten year anniversary of this fundraiser and tonight's goal will be to raise over $10 million for the UNCF*." There was a hearty round of applause from the crowd. "I want each of you to give a very warm welcome to the hosts of this beautiful function, Mr. and Mrs. Paul and Joss Carter."
John and Shaw watched as the handsome couple walked in, all smiles, waving to their guests. John thought they complimented each other appearance-wise, but in his former and current line of work, he'd learned to look beyond appearances and read body language. Most of the time, things were not all they seemed. He had a feeling that this was another one of those times.
Paul, the number they had been following for the past couple of days, was a classically handsome man. He wore an impeccably tailored designer tuxedo. Tall with sienna skin, a strong jawline, short dark hair, and a charismatic smile, Paul was the typical good looking male that knew he was attractive and used those good looks to gain attention from the opposite sex. And if Shaw was right about him, he used it often.
Jocelyn, however, had caught John's attention and had unknowingly enchanted him with her beauty. He couldn't take his eyes off her. Petite with copper skin, a heart shaped face, full luscious lips, and large mahogany eyes, Joss was a unique beauty. Dark brown hair was pinned into a messy chignon, with soft loose curls framing her face. Her dress was black, simple, and demure, yet hugged every curve of her body. Though she was attractive, she didn't appear to flaunt her looks and she radiated a calm confidence.
Her makeup was subdued, only highlighting her best features– her eyes and mouth. Paul bent down to kiss her softly on the cheek, a showy public display of affection. Painted a deep shade of red, her lips turned upward into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. John wondered if Paul knew what she'd done that morning. Had she told him she had filed for a divorce?
John watched as Paul leaned down for her to whisper something in his ear. The charming smile that Paul once held faltered momentarily as he stood straight to look into his wife's eyes. Aware of the many people in the room watching them, he quickly plastered another smile on his face. It was an insincere smile that was forced. He looked to Joss and saw that her smile seemed a bit more genuine this time, maybe even a bit smug.
They both walked to the podium to give a small speech, thanking the attendants for their generosity and urging them to not hold back on their bidding. After another round of applause, the band began to play an uptempo number and the couple split up to greet their guests individually. John quickly glanced over to his partner to see if she'd noticed anything, and saw that she appeared bored and a little frustrated.
"What's wrong, Shaw?"
"My plate is empty," she replied despondently. "I'm going to get more appetizers and keep an eye on Paul. You can go schmooze his old lady. Since she's kicking him to the curb anyway, maybe you can charm some information out of her."
John frowned at her choice of words. "Stay classy, Sam. Don't ever change," he deadpanned.
"Mr. Reese, I have to agree with Miss Shaw. Her plan, albeit inelegantly stated, just might get us the information we need to determine why Paul Carter's number came up," Finch chimed in over their open line.
Shaw smirked at John. "It shouldn't be a hard task for you, Reese. I saw how you looked at her when they walked in." She chuckled before she added, "You'd probably drink her bath water." She sauntered away before he could come up with a sarcastic retort.
He searched the room again for his assigned target, at least that's how he had to think of her. If he thought of her in an abstract way and ignored his immediate attraction to her, he could get the intel he needed. Losing her in the crowd of guests, he walked around the room. He finally spotted her with her back turned to him as she spoke with a group of wealthy donors.
His breath nearly caught as he looked at the back of her dress. It wasn't just a simple black evening gown. It was backless, cut very low. Instead of being completely bare, there was an ornate, eye-catching design– a chain linked gold serpent trim that appeared to slither down the center of her smooth back. His hands lightly flinched, betraying the control he thought he had, exposing his need to touch her. To find out if she was as soft as she looked.
She bade farewell to the group and moved across the room to speak to other guests of the party. She turned her head slightly, as if she could feel him watching her. Catching his eye, she returned his stare, a small smile gracing her lips, before giving a subtle nod of greeting. Turning away from him, she spoke to another guest, an elderly man, and engaged in more socializing. John walked away and headed to the bar to get a drink. He didn't have to see her turn back quickly for another look at him. Knowing that he'd planted the seed of interest, he found a seat and waited for her to look for him.
It didn't take long. He sat at the bar, watching the party and watching her. Waiting. When she finally made her way over to him, he was nearly speechless. Sure she'd been attractive from a distance, but up close and personal, with the heady scent of her perfume assaulting his senses, she made it hard to treat her as just an asset.
"Hello," was her simple greeting to him as she took a seat next to him and faced him head on.
He gave a simple nod of greeting, mirroring her earlier actions. He took a sip of the brandy in the highball glass he held in his hand, never taking his eyes off her.
"I don't believe I've ever seen you at one of these events before. Have you placed a bid on one of the items yet?"
"Not yet, though there is something that's caught my eye."
She didn't miss his hidden meaning and slightly blushed, looking down at her hands with a small smile before looking at him again. "I'm Joss." She held out her hand to shake his.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Joss. You look lovely tonight." He took her hand for a brief shake, but didn't immediately release it.
"Thank you for the compliment, but you never gave me a name." She slowly tried to remove her hand from his grip, but he held a bit tighter. If she wanted to, she could have easily removed her hand from his. She didn't.
"The only time you ever have to give a name is when you're in trouble. So... am I in trouble, Joss?" Her name rolled from his lips like a seductive whisper.
"No, but I think you might be trouble."
"You might be right," he replied with a smirk. "My name is John."
"John... Hmm. Are you a friend of Paul's?"
"No. And given the little show you two put on earlier, I'd say you aren't a friend of his either."
She laughed; it was a sound of genuine amusement mixed with the hollowness of resentment. "Was it that obvious?"
"Maybe not to the others, but it's my job to read people."
"Oh, is it now?" She raised a perfectly manicured brow as she appraised him. He hoped he'd gained her approval.
A sly smile was his silent reply. He took another sip of the brandy, letting the warm spice of the liquid coat his tongue. He absently wondered what she would taste like if he kissed her. He immediately shook off those thoughts.
"What gave it away?" she asked, intrigued by the handsome, blue-eyed stranger.
"Your smile didn't meet your eyes. And whatever you whispered in his ear wasn't good news either."
She chuckled. "I simply told him that I'd found out about his whore and their baby and that I'd filed for a divorce today." She reached for the glass he'd settled on the table and finished off the rest of the brandy that remained in one large sip. "But enough about that, how about I show you some of the items up for bid? Maybe something that's tangible will catch your eye tonight."
"Are you saying that what I'm interested in is intangible, Mrs. Carter?"
"Just call me, Joss. And yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. You can look, John, but you can't touch." She stood from the bar and looked at him expectantly. "So will you be joining me?"
He stood up, towering over her petite stature, invading her personal space so much that their bodies were almost touching. "Lead the way."
*UNCF: United Negro College Fund