AN1: This fic was inspired by the song Landslide originally by the great Stevie Nicks and covered by the Dixie Chicks.

AN2: This contains spoilers for S2E15: Booked Solid. You all knew I just had to write some John/Zoe smut after that last awesome episode. This is not part of the Risk Series, instead might be the start of a new series of J/Z fic. I probably won't focus on building a history for Zoe as I had done in the Risk Series.

AN3: Thanks to POIJane and SassyJ for the beta's and for humoring my obsession with John and Zoe. And no, I will not call this ship ZReese, Roe, Zohn, or Joe. To me, it is what it is John/Zoe.

Chapter 1:

Zoe Morgan was an accomplished Fixer, Crisis Manager, what have you. Her chosen profession tended to lead her into dangerous waters at times. Her clients often got themselves into sticky situations and it was her job to guard their public image with a vengeance. Her job wasn't to question whether or not her clients were guilty of whatever transgression they have been accused of, it was her job to put the best positive spin on the situation.

Zoe the Fixer had no need for the common everyday life many women her age seemed to be trapped in. No family, a husband, children, pets, nothing of personal significance. To the casual observer who never got past the icy façade, Zoe's life revolved around her work, her plan to always have a way out of any compromising situation whether it be with something to trade or a new angle. If she came across as an unfeeling, calculating, and cold, then so be it. Having the upper hand was a good thing, critical in her line of work. Zoe Morgan hadn't found the merits of love nor was she looking for it.

The key to her sexual life was similar to her work. Discretion was in her vocabulary, stupidity and carelessness were not. Her sexual escapades, where she deemed them necessary, were always on her terms. They never occurred at her home which she considered her personal hideaway from the world. It was generally a no-strings attached event, and always careful. Both parties generally agreed to enjoy the other's company for however long it lasted. And the parting of ways was always amiable. So why did her heart, its presence forgotten long ago, skip a few beats at John's proposition?

"Ever consider doing in-house work? This place could use someone in Crisis Management." It was the suggestion that she needed to find less dangerous work that brought up the initial feeling of wariness. That he seemed to care for her safety. No one had given it a thought in a very long time.

"I like to move around. More freelancer. Like you." John covered well, his look of surprise at her seemingly wanting to be like him. He couldn't fathom why anyone would chose to put themselves in danger on a regular basis. Other than the fact that they were both fixers in their chosen professions, he hadn't given it a thought that they had more in common than he had first surmised.

John felt that it was high time to get to know the wily Ms. Morgan better. "It's a nice place. Maybe I'll even stick around for one more night." When they had stayed that extra night at Far Rockaway, the attraction between the two of them was palpable. Yet, neither one had made any sort of sexual overture towards each other. There was a plethora of hints, innuendoes, suggestions and more, yet at the end of the night they each went to their own rooms not to surface again until morning. Disappointing to both of them, he was sure, but neither one willing to concede that it was the right time for such a move.

"Well, I heard it was all booked. But, then again, you do know the owner," Zoe said coyly.

He flashed the key card. "The penthouse suite . . . " Swirling the key card in the air, he suggested, "Another round?"

Zoe knew that it was time for the next step in their little song and dance, yet she couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension. She couldn't help but feel that once she crossed that line that she had no definition for, that it will forever be crossed and there was no coming back. Not one to doubt herself, Zoe felt trepidation that if she accepted John's proposition, she would never be the same again. And that confused her.

Mentally shaking off her momentary lapse into self-doubt, she did what she would normally do and forged on. This game of chicken between them was finally coming to a head. The timing had finally worked in their favor. As long as she kept her wits about her and never let her guard down, she was willing to see where the penthouse would lead.

Deciding to call his bluff, for that was what she felt he was doing, she grabbed the key card from his hand. "I'll meet you up there."

To answer his quizzical look, she said, "Safety first . . ."

Nodding his head in understanding he was relieved that she had thought of it because he certainly hadn't, he replied, "See you in a few."

Fighting the urge to gulp, Zoe nodded. Damn, he called her bluff too.