Here is my Valentine's Day story. It's not much, but I hope you like it – since it's going to be the last story I may be writing for a while. There is a lot going on in my life, and I'm physically not up to writing. It's been fun writing for these characters, but alas, my health isn't allowing me to give the quality of work I know my readers are expecting. I know many of you will understand. If and when things get better, all of you will be the first to know. Hope your Valentine's Day is full of love and happiness. Many blessings to all of you.

I don't own Person of Interest or its characters.

Song prompt: "Physical" by Olivia Newton-John

Physical

Joss sneaked a glance at Reese, sighed, then turned her eyes to watch as the scenery passed by. The Valentine's Day evening she had had planned failed to accomplish, and now she was left trying to figure out if maybe jumping out of the car at the next red light might be a little childish.

Okay, so her plan had been to seduce the Man In The Suit. What was wrong with that? From the moment she had laid eyes on him, she had felt her heart doing the weirdest kind of flip-flops. Even feelings she hadn't experienced since high school were coming alive. And she wasn't even going to think about the erotic dreams that woke her up in a tangled sweat in her sheets. What could she say other than he made her horny?

Of course, the looks he shot her way and the little ways he touched her when he thought she didn't notice, hadn't been lost on her. Her skin burned for days after even the slightest touch of his flesh on hers. Maybe that's why she had assumed he felt the same way. He seemed to have wanted her as much as she desired him, so where did she go wrong?

Maybe the movie had been a little overkill, she thought to herself. Or maybe it was the expensive, secluded restaurant; hell, it promised to bring lovers together, she groused. I wonder if I can get my money back.

Joss shook her head. Maybe going to Fusco for love advice hadn't been her wisest choice.
****

"What's a good restaurant?" Joss asked casually from behind her desk.

Caught with his nose in a case file, Lionel Fusco looked up with a startled expression. "A what?"

"A good restaurant," Joss repeated.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious."

Lionel gave a snort. "Heh. The best detective at the 8th is curious? Right."

"Are you going to answer the question?"

"Depends. Why are you asking me? And why do you want to know?" Lionel took off his reading glasses and studied his partner. Something was different about her, and he was going to find out what.

"None of your business," she deflected casually, except her tone was anything but convincing. And it wasn't lost on Lionel who was scrutinizing her closely.

"Yes, it is," he contradicted.

"No," she countered, "it isn't."

"It became my business when you asked me to get involved."

Joss was flummoxed by the statement."Involved?! I asked a question."

"A question that I have the answer to," Lionel replied smugly. Yep, she was squirming, and he loved it. And if he had to make a bet, he was sure Wonderboy was involved somehow.

"I asked you because you are the nearest person. If you'd rather, I can go ask Murphy."

"Murphy? Yeah, he'll direct you to the nearest hot dog vendor. That will impress your date, no doubt."

"Okay, then I'll ask Finnegan." Joss mentally counted to three and tried to appear calm, but her hands were shaking.

"Sure, if you want to know the best donut shops to take your date to, then yeah, ask him. 'Two coffees and crullers; to go'," Lionel pretended to make an order. He tried to hide his smile as he watched the usually cool, calm, and collect detective slowly lose her composure. It was almost too much fun to resist.

Joss's look held daggers. "Why are you doing this?"

Lionel feigned innocence. "Doing what?"

"Toying with me."

"You asked a question that needs an answer; I asked a question that needs an answer. It's a win-win."

Joss pointed her finger at the manila folders. "See this stack? It's going to end up on your desk. That's a win-win for me."

"Okay. No need to pull rank." Lionel sighed. "Glasses once reserved me a table at this great steak restaurant."

Joss picked up a pen and pad of paper. "Name, please."

"The Grande. Great steaks, by the way."

Joss scribbled quickly. "Thanks."

Lionel stood up and walked over to Joss' desk. "Who's this for?"

Joss tore off the piece of paper and shoved it in her purse. "No one."

"No one?"

"Taylor."

"Okay, first of all, if you're going to try and bullshit someone, make sure that someone is not a detective; secondly, I doubt you're going to take your son out to dinner on Valentine's Day," Lionel replied in a no-nonsense way that left no room for argument.

Yep, she had just been nailed by Lionel Fusco – of all people, no less. Joss lowered her eyes. "Alright, you got me; it's not Taylor."

Lionel leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Who is it?"

"No one."

Lionel mulled over the answer. "No one. No...one...hmmm." He stroked his chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Interesting. Would this 'no one' be tall, dark, and handsome, with a sweet arsenal at his disposal?"

Joss tried to get interested in her discarded paperwork. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she murmured. She opened the folder and tried to read the report, but the words made no sense to her.

Lionel grinned. "Sure, you do. So, you're going to take Wonderboy out for the night to give the bad guys' kneecaps a break. Nice."

"You mean John?"

"John. Is that what you call him?"

Joss sighed in exasperation. "Sure. What am I supposed to call him?"

"Well, 'oh baby' comes to mind-" Lionel's words were halted as Joss placed her hand over his mouth.

"Hush!"

"Well, it's true," Lionel mumbled his response. He pulled her hand down. "That was rude."

"You should know."

"Tell me that I'm wrong." He watched Joss struggle with herself and fail. "You can't. So, what is your plan for the Caped Crusader? Champagne? Oysters? The Honeymoon Suite at the Ritz?" he listed off the possibilities.

"Dinner. A movie. Good night."

"Ho-hum. Boring. Snooze fest. You should want your Valentine's Day to be perfect, not lapse the poor guy into a coma. Take him out. Show him a good time. Sit on his face."

"Fusco!" Joss growled.

"Like it's a secret, Carter. You two have been making googly eyes at one another for – well, for as long as I can remember," he needled her.

"Jealous?" Joss asked.

"In a way. I wish he had made eyes like that toward me," Lionel said sarcastically.

"What?!"

"Just kidding. I've got someone, thank you."

"Sure, you do."

"What, you think I'm lying?"

"And that is why you consider yourself an authority in the art of seduction?" Joss gave a sarcastic snort.

"I'm quite the Lothario," Lionel bragged and puffed out his chest. "I'll have you know that women dig this."

"Yeah, I'm sure they do, Lionel." That was a road she didn't want to go down – ever!

"You want him or not?" Lionel sat down on the corner of the desk. "Listen to me, and you'll bed – er, bag him in no time."

Rolling her eyes, Joss turned to face her partner. "If I hear you out, will you leave me alone for the rest of the day?"

"Sure."

"Talk."

"Take him out to dinner, and while he's eating, play footsie with him."

"Footsie?"

"Not just any footsie, make sure you take a detour into the nether regions."

"The what?!"

Lionel shifted uncomfortably. "You know...the nether regions. The, uh, the...that area."

"His crotch?" Joss whispered conspiratorially.

"Yeah."

"Gotcha. What else?"

"Champagne. Chocolate – lots of chocolate. Wear something red."

"Something red. Okay."

"Then jump his bones."

"Too crass."

"Take him to a movie. I heard there is new romantic comedy opening this weekend. Who knows, it might put him in the mood." Lionel's eyebrows danced.

"And this is going to work?" Joss sounded skeptical. It was too easy.

"Guaranteed, or my name isn't Dr. Love."

"Right now it's Mr. Big Pain In My Ass," Joss shot back.

Lionel slid off the desk. "You just follow that plan, and I swear he will be putty in your hands."

"Then what?"

"You mean what do you do with him when you get him where you want him?" Lionel was flummoxed by the question. He raised his shoulders, dropped them. "I'm leading you to seduction, Carter; what you do behind closed doors is up to you – and him. But I've heard those CIA guys are into fuzzy handcuffs and feathers."

"You're demented."

"It's all the death I see everyday. Just get your man."

"Thanks, Lionel."

"Personally I think that you should forget about dinner and a movie, and just get the hotel room." Lionel walked back toward his desk. "God knows the both of you could use a good lay."

"I heard that!"
****

And now she sat in the passenger seat of the car and wondered what she had done wrong. The setting had been romantic – candles, soft music, table in the corner- and her foot had started to travel...until he had shot her a flummoxed look. Back to square one.

The movie had been lame. Or perhaps it had been her nerves that kept her from enjoying the slow, but predictable romantic comedy of star-crossed lovers. She had even tried to be inconspicuous when stretching so she could touch him, but her elbow had hit the popcorn container, and when she jumped up to catch it, the box of Jordan Almonds hit the ground and went everywhere. Maybe she should have heeded Lionel's advice and just skipped to the hotel. Instead, she was stuck in hell—Do not pass Go; don't collect two hundred dollars.

Even the conversation fell flat. Sure, okay, she had been in the Army, but she didn't participate in gutter talk and sexual innuendo laced jokes. Warrant Officers were in a class all by themselves and they tended to hang together. Besides, what was the polite way to inject "I want to sit on your face" into a discussion?

Now she was feeling incredibly stupid for having gone to the novelty store for John's gift. At least she had had the fore-thought to keep it in her purse and not give it to him. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, she comforted herself.

"Everything okay?" Reese's voice broke thru the heavy silence.

"Yeah," Joss nodded. "Everything's good." Depending on how you define 'good'.

"You're quiet."

"Just thinking." About how stupid this whole thing was, she finished silently.

"Ah. Looks like we're here." Reese pulled the car into the empty spot in front of Joss's brownstone. He put the engine in park and turned the ignition off.

"Thanks for driving." Joss went to unfasten the seat belt, but her thumbs refused to cooperate. "Damn!"

"Here, let me help."

"No, I can do it."

"Joss, hold still." With nimble fingers, Reese released the latch and freed Joss. A little bit of a linger, his fingers brushed against hers, but he didn't seem to react. Joss took that as her cue to leave.

"Thanks." She opened the door and stepped out. If only she could get inside the security of her four walls and pretend the night had never happened. Then she could chalk this Valentine's Day up to a bad memory.

"I'll go with you," Reese offered. Before Joss could protest, Reese was taking her by the elbow and escorting her up the steps of the brownstone to the front door. Standing under the light, the pair stood in awkward silence.

"Thanks for walking me to the door." Joss reached into her purse and fished for the keys, but her fingers came up empty.

"Thank you for a nice night," Reese said.

"It wasn't what I had hoped for," Joss apologized.

"It was different," he agreed. It beat tailing bad guys and chasing numbers, that was for sure. But any time he got to spend with Joss was better than a minute in Heaven.

"It's not what I had planned." Joss sighed. "But I hope you had a good time – despite all." Catching the keyring, Joss pulled it out. "Guess we should call it a night." Right now all she wanted to do was take a bath and then crawl into bed and forget Valentine's Day ever existed.

Laying his palm against Joss's cheek, he gently cupped her face. "You did this all for me?" Reese asked in a low voice that trembled with emotion.

"A lot of good it did me. I did everything that was supposed to ensure the perfect evening: Romantic, suggestive movie, intimate restaurant...a little footsie." She scoffed as she replayed the failed evening. "I did everything but sit on your face."

For a long second the world seemed to stop.

"All you had to do was ask, Joss."

Lowering his face, he kissed her. Taking her lips with his, he drank from her sweetness. He didn't push or demand; he took just enough to leave her wanting more. Feather light, he stroked her back until her heard her moan in response. The minutes passed while their tongues mated wildly.

Coming up for air, Joss pulled back to look at him. Never had his eyes looked so blue as they shone with what she assumed was desire for her. In response, her heart picked up speed. She could barely breathe as his thumb gently caressed her cheek. The rough pad of his thumb against her skin had to be the most erotic sensation she had ever felt. Yet, the words escaped her.

"You know, Joss, the night isn't over yet. And I haven't given you my present," Reese drawled in a seductive way that made Joss tremble with want and desire.

"Oh?"

"It's not as romantic as dinner and a movie, but it does involve us getting horizontal – if that's alright with you."

"Well, the night is still young." Joss handed the key to Reese. He unlocked the door. "Oh, I forgot." She reached into her purse and pulled out the flat, thin box decorated in heart paper and topped with a bright red bow. "Here."

"What is this?" Reese turned the box around in his hands.

"A little something I thought you might like."

Tearing off the paper, Reese lifted the lid. And stared. Crooking his finger, he lifted the fuzzy handcuffs up. "What's this?"

"I heard that you CIA guys were into things like that," Joss explained as heat burned her cheeks. "You don't like them."

"It's twisted; I like them," Reese contradicted.

"There's a side I didn't think I'd ever see."

"I was wondering if maybe...you could put them to good use."

Joss swallowed at the request. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Detective, you did mention once how you pictured me in the back of your car – in handcuffs."

Joss lowered her eyes. "I did, didn't I?"

"I'm not much into making love in the backseat of cars – and I do have your reputation to protect – but I wouldn't mind if you conducted a little a little search and seizure in your bedroom." Reese wrapped his arms around Joss's waist to pull her flush against him. The heat they were producing warded off any chill in the air.

Joss opened the door to the brownstone. She quickly entered the code on the security pad. Turning, she stood on tip-toe to place a kiss on Reese's lips. Reese swung her into his arms. Taking two steps at a time, he carried her upstairs to the privacy of her room. With his foot he closed the door before carrying her to the bed.

Placing her on the comforter, he stood and drank in the beauty of her laying against the rose print with her hair spread over the pillow. He reached down to touch her. A second later the sound of a "click" broke the silence. He looked down at the cuff encircling his wrists.

"Ah, a girl after my own heart."

"Come here," Joss growled as she hooked a finger in the waistband of Reese's slacks and pulled him down on to the bed. She straddled him intimately.

"Dinner, movie, handcuffs, and now dessert," Reese remarked. "This Valentine's Day is getting better as the night goes on."

Joss quickly unbuttoned the expensive shirt and parted it. Gazing upon Reese's beauty, it was all she could do to hold herself back.

"It's only going to get better," she replied.

"Is that a promise, Detective?"

"From my heart."

Reese hooked his wrists behind Joss's head to pull her down to him. "The best kind. I love you, Joss."

"I love you, too, John," she said. Any further talk was cut off as Reese claimed her lips, then her body as he showed her the true meaning of Valentine's Day and how to make it last through out the year.

The End.