WOMAN OF INTEREST 3: TWO PRINCES
By
Lacadiva
Disclaimer: All rights belong to Jonathan Nolan, JJ Abrams, Kilter Films, Bad Robot, CBS, et al.
Summary: "Tell you what," Carter said, slipping into her suit jacket, "you find somebody you want to introduce me to, you let me know." "What's wrong with John?" asked Taylor.
=POI=
"You about ready?"
Carter finished the last of her tepid coffee and carried her breakfast dishes to the sink. No time to load them into the washer; she would have to deal with them later.
"Almost," said Taylor, uncharacteristically taking his time as he spread a thick glob of Nutella on the last piece of whole wheat toast.
His mother could tell that he had something on his mind. It weighed him down, made him look pensive and far too serious for someone his age. Even so, she had an appointment to keep.
"You're gonna be late," she admonished. "And you're gonna make me late. Let's go."
"Mom…I need to talk to you."
"Excuse me?"
"You said I could talk to you about anything…"
Joss stopped in mid-step, and heard her breath catch in her throat. If Taylor wanted to talk about something, that something was undoubtedly serious. Boys just don't open up like that…do they? At least, not unless something was terribly wrong. Her thoughts raced through a mental Rolodex of possible problems and issues that could throw a monkey wrench not only into her son's day, but into his entire life. Her facial expression softened to an open and neutral look – something she had often practiced in the interrogation room with perps and witnesses to help them feel safer about confessing or blowing the whistle on someone.
"Yeah, I said that," she said in a calm voice, "and I meant it. So tell me what's going on."
"Sit down…please."
He wanted her to sit. He wanted her to sit! This was going to be huge.
"I was thinking," Taylors said, staring at the slice of toast left on his plate, unable to look up at his mother.
"Thinking about…?"
"College. "
"Go on," she said, hoping he wasn't going to throw his own monkey wrench into her plans for him by saying he wasn't going. Because, come hell or high water, he was going. If she had to drag him to the campus herself….
"I know you were hoping I'd go to NYU or Columbia…but I was thinking about going somewhere else…"
"Where?"
"UCLA….maybe."
"California?" she asked, fighting to keep from sounding too incredulous. "Is this about a girl, Taylor?"
"Sort of," he confessed.
"Who is she?"
"You."
Carter's confused expression made her son smile.
"I'm the man of the house, right? So…it's my job to look after you, make sure you're okay."
She wanted to smile. Wanted to throw up her arms and shout her relief. Give her boy a hug and kiss. But she didn't. It was important that he knew she respected him, and that even though she is the final authority in their household, she didn't want him to feel as if he had no voice, or was seen as merely a helpless kid.
"I appreciate your concern for me, Taylor," she said, "but you don't have to worry…"
"You've been alone for a long time, mom."
"I'm not alone. I got you."
"But not forever. If I go to UCLA…"
"What's wrong with NYU?"
"If I choose to go to UCLA, I want to be sure you're going to be all right."
She smiled now. "Where's all this coming from?"
Taylor stalled by taking a bite of toast and thoughtfully chewing it. He swallowed hard, which let Carter know he was having a tough time finding the words. She kept silent and let her eyes fall to the table, to help him feel a little less scrutinized, under the microscope.
"I was thinking about Dad…"
She couldn't help it – she raised a hand and rested it on her son's shoulder.
"I thought so," Carter said softly.
"I miss him..."
"I miss him, too," she confessed, noting the wistfulness in her own voice. He would have been so proud of his son, the man he was becoming. No, the man he had become. Strong, brave, responsible, caring.
"…but it's been a while. I don't think he'd mind if…"
"If what, Taylor?"
"If you wanted to, like, you know…get married again or something."
She let her hand drop. Did she just hear him right?
"Get married? And what is, 'or something?'"
Taylor suddenly looked embarrassed. The man he was becoming took a bit of a step back to being a boy again, wary of his mother's wrath.
"You know…go out. Like with a man or something. You're not that old yet. And you still look okay."
"Well, thank you very much," she said, a little more sarcastically than she meant to. She stepped away from the table and reached for her badge and her gun, checked the safety and attached the holster to her belt.
"Look Taylor…"
Taylor rose quickly from the table embarrassed, humiliation fomenting in the pit of his teenaged gut and carried his dishes to the sink, dropping them in a little more forcefully than he meant to.
"I'm just saying," he said, hesitating, turning back to her, determined to fight his way through this moment he created. "I'm just saying that if you wanted to, it's okay. I don't have a problem with it. Some of my friends do…they don't want their parents to… but I don't feel that way. Not if…"
"Not if what?"
"Not if you're a cop. Cause I know you won't choose no messed up guy…he won't do drugs, or drink, or hurt people, or be some perv. You'd choose someone who'd protect you. Respect you. Treat you right."
She could've kicked herself when John Reese suddenly came to mind.
Carter shook her head, is if the gesture alone could dislodge the thought, and smiled as if she could hide if from her son.
"Yeah, because if he doesn't treat me right, I'd just shoot him."
Taylor laughed. He knew his mother would never shoot anyone without cause. To cavalierly suggest she would do such a thing struck him as ridiculous.
"Tell you what," Carter said, slipping into her suit jacket, "you find somebody you want to introduce me to, you let me know."
"What's wrong with John?" asked Taylor.
She nearly missed her sleeve. "John? John who?"
Taylor shook his head. "You know."
"When did you start calling him John? It's Mr. Reese."
"Whatever."
"Whatever my eye. And he's off limits."
"Why? Is he married?"
"Taylor!"
"Is he?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"You telling me you never did a background check on him?"
"I'm telling you," Carter said as she grab her purse and moved for the door, "that this discussion is over."
"Mom…"
Carter stopped as she reached for the door knob.
"I'm late for work. Make sure you lock the door behind you."
"There's this girl at my school," he shouted, hoping it would stop her from walking out.
It did.
"She's like, seriously beautiful. You know, like, there's pretty, then there's beautiful, and then there's seriously beautiful?"
"Baby, where's this going?"
"Her name is Indra. Whenever she walks by, it's kinda hard to ignore her. Me and my crew…I mean, my friends, whenever Indra is around, it's like something shuts down. All we can do is stare. We laugh about it, give each other a hard time about it. But we can't help it. We could be laughing and joking around, but when Indra shows up, they guys get all quiet and weird and, like, they can't even say hello without feeling all awkward and stuff…"
Carter looked angry. A hand went to her hip.
"Are you saying …that's what I'm like when Mr. Reese is around? Because I am not! I am all business…"
"Mom…"
"Totally professional! I don't shut down or shut up! I don't get goose bumps, and I don't get all flush, awkward, or nervous. I barely even notice the man!"
"Mom! Not you. Him."
"Excuse me?"
"That's what he's like with you. I'm mean, not exactly, not like my friends. He's a lot smoother. But you can see it. He does act different when you're around."
"How so?"
"I don't know…he kinda stares, and gets this weird smile…"
"Now how would you know?"
Taylor looked embarrassed again. "Sometime, I call him. Like if I'm having a tough time at school."
"What?"
"It's okay mom. He ain't no perv or nothing, it's not like that."
"I know…but why would you need to call him?"
And why wouldn't you tell me?
"He's teaching me self-defense."
"Since when?"
"Since about a month ago. I had a little issue with someone at school. I called him. John…Mr. Reese… told me how to handle it. It's all good now. Sometimes we hang out for like an hour or something after school, whenever he's free, and he shows me a few things."
"Like how to fight?"
"Is that wrong?"
No, it wasn't, technically. The truth was, she was grateful it was Reese he was hanging with, and not some of those imitation hoodlum friends of his. Still, it hurt that her son would keep so much from her.
Deep down, she struggled with the answer. There were just some problems that needed to be handled between men, she mused, fighting not to feel inadequate as a parent. Somewhere inside she was thankful for John's intervention in her son's life, even if she did feel the hollow pangs of jealousy.
It was, after all, a mother's privilege to feel proprietary about her own flesh and blood.
"So," she said, stalling as she prepared her mental fishing line with bait.
She had to know. She had to ask.
"How is he…different?"
"I don't know. I mean, like, we'll be walking, or driving around, and he'll see you and get all quiet and stuff and just stare."
"That's just his thing. He's always watching people."
"If that's what you think."
"Look, Taylor, I know you like the man. He saved your life, mine too. It's hard not to feel close to somebody who'd do something like that for you…"
"I agree," said Taylor. "So if you ever wanted to like, you know, take it to another level…"
"Another level? What level? What kind of level are you suggesting?"
"Mom, I gotta go to school."
"Oh, NOW you gotta go to school! You started this!"
"Mom, I'm just saying…"
There was a knock at the door.
Please...Joss thought…please let it be anyone but John Reese at my door….
She opened it.
"Good morning," John said. "I thought we had an appointment?"
"Got held up. Family issue," she said, praying that he didn't notice the tremulous nature of her voice.
"Hi, John!" said Taylor over his mother's shoulder. His grin was undeniably incriminating.
"Go to school!" she demanded. He grabbed his books and jacket from the table by the door and raced out.
"Bye, mom, bye John!"
He took a quick look over his shoulder before taking the steps down two at a time.
"Everything all right?" John asked, his voice reverberating deep in his throat, his eyes unblinking, and his lips twisted in that distinctive half-smile he had perfected.
Carter could not help searching his face, looking for whatever it was her son had noticed.
Nothing. Nada. He looked perfectly normal to her. Obviously it was just a little wishful thinking on her son's part. Who could blame him? Reese, for all his mysterious and dangerous qualities, could easily seem to be the epitome of manliness to a boy in need of a father figure. John was like a page out of some commando comic book, or a character from some violent video game come to life.
And it sucked that he was so good looking, too. Even though he…
"Detective?"
"What?"
"You're staring…"
"I'm sorry. Got lost in my head. Let's go."
She walked out, past John, leaving her door wide opened behind her.
John smirked…what would preoccupy the good detective's thoughts so completely that she would leave her door opened and unlocked? Before he could reach for the knob to close it, Carter back-tracked, fumbling in her jacket pocket for her keys to lock the door.
Reese did not move. She waited for him to do so. She refused to get that close to him. When finally he did take a step back, she fought to slip the key into the top lock. Why were her fingers trembling so?
"That boy got me all worked up," she lied. "Kids…they just…"
Reese reached out and took the keys from her. She tried not to look up, into his face, as he locked her door. Done, he held up the keys for her, dangling them like a carrot on a string.
Or a heart…
She snatched them away without making eye contact.
"Joss…"
"Let's go."
He grabbed her arm, holding her back.
Brown met blue and liquefied between them.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she said. "I'm good. Can we go now? Please?"
He released her.
"After you."
She headed for the stairs, her strides quick and long, her breath short and shallow. She fought the urge to turn and look over her shoulder at him….no…no…she wouldn't look…
She lost.
And saw, for the first time, exactly what Taylor was talking about….
Dang, she thought.
THE END.
I hope you like it. If it moved you at all, please do review. As always, thanks for your kind support.