A/N: Nyte Quill wrote A Quiet Life in the Suburbs based on her thoughts during the ep High Road. I liked hers so much I decided to do a similar thing. Here is my POI Fic based on my thoughts during High Road. No actual little girls were beat during the writing of this fic.
Thanks to Nyte Quill too for doing a quick beta on this story.
Please forgive any small errors in grammar and punctutaion. If it's really bad, let me know! Thanks.
My Suburbia
Zoe Morgan was the consummate professional, a fixer, a broker of information. What her clients needed the information for wasn't her concern. If she had it, she used it. Zoe was satisfied with her job, relished the intellectual stimulation of knowing what information was important to men of power and how to use that information to her advantage. Zoe the fixer had no need for the subtle nuances of everyday life of a woman her age. No husband, kids, pets, carpools or book clubs, nothing of importance. At least none that was visible to the naked eye. To anyone not looking hard enough, her life revolved around her work, her plan to always have something to trade and always look for an angle, if she came across as an unfeeling, ball buster of a bitch, she didn't care. Intimidation was a good thing, crucial 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. She was discrete, not stupid.
So what is it about John that made her think about throwing caution to the wind and act indiscrete and stupid? It went far beyond physical attraction and beyond the fact that he had saved her ass. Their mutual attraction to each other was palpable, yet, they still hadn't gotten together for that drink. It hadn't stopped Zoe from providing her services the subsequent times Harold Finch had called. In her book, that would have made her and John even. He saved her life; she's helped them more than once and copped a feel of John's rather nice ass she'd been admiring for months.
Curiosity killed that cat. Isn't that what they said? Her curiosity will be the death of her one day. It was why she came here, to meet John when HE called her. Not Harold, but John. As Zoe approached, she could see that John was already at their pre-arranged meeting place. John appeared fit, handsome and sexy as ever. Damn it. Though his hair was graying slightly at the temples, it didn't detract from his appearance. Her stomach did a somersault. This was a curious response from her, like a little girl seeing her first crush.
What? If my palms start sweating, I'm jumping off the damn bridge.
They did their usual song and dance. A barb here: ". . . Sorry to hear that it didn't work out with that reporter . . . Maxine?" A comment there: "I was actually thinking we should spend more time together." Another flutter in her belly caught Zoe off guard. Right, 'cause she just fell off the turnip truck. She called his bluff: "Hmm, is that so? What is it this time? More power players . . . Cover ups?" As much as she wanted to have that drink with John, there wasn't any other reason he would call her unless they needed something.
And then she was blindsided. "Zoe Morgan, will you be my wife?" Zoe's reaction to the understated but elegantly cut diamond ring made her pause and look up at him. The slight upward quirk of his mouth ruined the effect.
"Funny, you almost look like you mean it John."
Funny, you almost wanted him to mean it Zoe.
Far Rockaway, New York. Zoe wasn't even sure she knew that such a place existed. The neighborhood was certainly idyllic. Rows of cookie cutter houses with their lawns perfectly manicured. As a child, she had imagined she would someday live in a place like this. But with her inability to stay out of trouble she couldn't imagine living anywhere but Manhattan.
Oooh. This was how I always pictured it would look like, said Little Zoe, long thought buried deep, somehow broke free and made an appearance. Zoe the fixer wrestled the little munchkin back into that long forgotten box.
Hey! Little Zoe was not thrilled.
Zoe shot a nasty glare at John. "Remember when you saved me from being tortured and killed by corporate hit men?" John's non response and slight eyebrow raise made her give him a razor-sharp look complete with narrowed eyes. "Well consider us even." Her twelve year old self wouldn't have even thought of resurfacing if it weren't for him bringing her here.
"Does that mean you don't want me to carry you over the threshold?" He deadpanned, looking completely serious.
Zoe fought hard to keep that ever-present neutral look on her face as she internally shushed the little girl inside her who was saying; "Yes, Yes. Please!" It was getting more difficult to keep her wits about her when John was around.
With her lack of response, John whistled for Bear to come out of the car.
Awwwwww, The little girl inside Zoe squealed with delight. "When this is over, I might have to fight you for custody of the dog,"
Successfully diverting John's predilection to shooting the girl scouts first and asking questions later, they were finally ready for the neighborhood hootenanny- er barbeque.
"Nice to see you out of your work clothes," she observed. "You look - - suburban." She took in his "appropriate wardrobe" courtesy of Harold.
"Chinos and a white polo don't carry much intimidation factor," John replied looking uncomfortable without his trademark suit.
Zoe thought he looked fine, disturbingly domesticated and rather appealing. Damn that little girl, I'm putting her in time out.
"Remember, dear . . . " Zoe reminded, "Let's try not to burn the neighborhood down okay?"
"I told you, sweetheart, we'll just have to see." She took in his sarcastic reply and made a mental note to stick close and make sure he didn't go for any firearms during the barbecue.
Zoe's little girl squealed and clapped her hands in delight. He called me sweetheart.
Gnashing her teeth she yelled at Little Zoe. Go to your room!
The one thing Zoe hated most in the world was sitting around and doing nothing. Since all was well at the Wylers' for the evening, there was nothing to do but wait.
"God, the party never stops when you're around. What do these people do for fun?"
Wide-eyed, completely clueless John answered. "Beats me."
To Zoe's utter shock, little Zoe exclaimed. Only if you call me mistress.
That's it young lady, you are so going in the naughty chair!
Oooh, can John come too?
"Got any ideas?" John asked bringing Zoe out of her disturbing internal conversation with her younger self.
Poker, yeah, that's it. They brought out the cards, chips and Scotch and settled in for an evening of betting and drinking. Not allowed to come out until morning, Little Zoe was sent to bed. Children were not allowed where alcohol and gambling were present.
"This the part where we get divorced?" Zoe asked.
Little Zoe was agitated. No, it's not.
"Sorry it didn't work out. It was fun while it lasted though right?"
Yes. Yes. It was fun. Let's do it again.That little girl was precocious and would get her in trouble.
"Well we still have some scotch left. Want to stay one more night? Try to win some of that money back?"
Little Zoe golf clapped her approval. Ooh, good move!
John gave her a sideways look with raised eyebrows. She saw his indecision and was elated when he agreed.
Little Zoe pumped her arm then did the Pee-Wee Herman dance. Yes! She was banished to her room immediately.
Their poker chips were nowhere to be found. The scotch was easily retrieved as were the cards. What to do? Ah yes, Strip Poker it was. John was back in his dark suit and white shirt and Zoe realized that he had far more clothes on than she did. It would take some strategic maneuvering on her part to make sure he ended up on the losing end of this poker game considering all she had on was a skin tight dress, her underwear and her shoes.
Nice dress by the way. The deep burgundy color accentuates your eyes and the deep neckline shows off your boobies.
Did I not just send you back to your room? I swear little girl, I'm going to beat you senseless. March! Zoe the fixer was not going to let this little bugger get the best of her. She was the one in charge!
With no furniture left they settled on the floor. Zoe had to hitch her dress up to mid thigh in order to sit down. She noticed that John's gaze lingered for a minute longer than was warranted.
She won the first hand. Full house! Hah. There went John's jacket.
Zoe was on a roll. She won the next three hands. The winning hands took care of John's shoes (a pair of something only counts as one item of clothing), his socks, and his cuff links. Smart man, and damn it, he had too many clothes on.
John won the next one with his own full house. Two could play at this game. Zoe took her shoes off, stretched her legs out and wiggled her toes.
The next two rounds went to Zoe. Hah, her tactical maneuvers were working. John gave up his shirt and undershirt. He tried to give up his gun, but Zoe put the kibosh on that saying that a gun was not clothing.
After seven rounds, Zoe still had her tight dress on, though it was inching towards indecency and John was down to his pants.
I wonder if John went commando, Zoe thought to herself. She had long given up drinking the scotch, wanting to keep her mind clear so that she could go for the gold. John, she noticed, had stopped drinking as well after he lost the last couple of rounds. She had to keep her wits if she wanted to test her theory about John's choice of undergarment, although, his naked chest had been screaming "LICK ME!" to her since the beginning of the last round.
John without a shirt was distracting. Her eyes couldn't stop looking, wandering, lingering on his beautiful physique, scars and all. They just added to the allure, the air of mystery and danger. She noticed that he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of her . . . toes?
John was a toes man? Huh. Well, let's see what else he's into. Zoe deliberately folded. She smiled big at the look of panic on John's face.
"Well John, what do you suggest I take off now I only have my dress and panties left?" She teased in a hushed whisper. She didn't think it was possible; but he even looked more panicked than before. Zoe stood up and started to reach for the hem of her dress.
John could feel heat coming up his neck as a full on blush settled on his face and he looked anywhere and everywhere but at Zoe.
Zoe couldn't help but laugh at that. "You're cute when you blush John." She said as she threw her thong onto his lap. "See, I still have my dress on." It actually felt liberating, going sans panties.
"So, wanna keep playing? I think you're ahead. Assuming you have underwear on underneath those pants."
"I do, but let's play one more hand maybe we can even it up a bit." He suggested, he was stalling and she knew it. Zoe had other plans.
"How about I make it easy and fold now?" She said as she walked over to him and straddled his lap. The hem of her dress hiked up to her thighs.
She stared into his oh so pretty blue eyes and slowly brought his head toward hers and placed a soft, slow kiss on his parted lips. Zoe pulled away, to find him temporarily immobilized; the sexual tension of the past days lurking in his eyes.
Jolted out of his trance, John pulled Zoe to him and planted a kiss on her lips. The kiss quickly deepened into something stronger and hungrier. John slid his hands under her thighs and stood in one powerful move taking her with him. Startled, Zoe wrapped her legs around his waist, and wound her arms around his neck for balance. He carried her to the bedroom at a sure and steady clip.
Zoe was relieved to find that the bed had not been packed away by the movers. She slid down the length of John's body until her feet touched the floor. "You show me yours and I'll show you mine?" She asked with a quirk of a brow. And immediately, they both dispensed with their clothing.
Eight rounds of poker, half a bottle of Scotch, countless items of clothing, and two days of sexual tension, equals one naked John; priceless.
John's arms went around her as he kissed her, pressing against her as his tongue delved into her mouth. She returned his kisses pushing close to him and felt the outline of his body as he walked her backwards towards the bed and gently pushed her down.
His hands roamed, stroked, and teased as he caressed her body until he found what he was looking for; her soft heat, he stroked it lightly at first. He tore his mouth away from hers and whispered in her ear. "You're wet," he said, his voice raspy and low. Fingers continued to play with her, circling softly around her center as his tongue swirled around each of her nipples then tracked the kisses up the side of her neck. She threw her head back, breathing heavily at the wonderful sensations she was feeling. Panting, Zoe reached down and gently grabbed his hand. "That's fantastic but if you don't stop, I won't be able to let you stop." She pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply.
As his knee parted her legs, he took one of her nipples in his mouth, using his tongue to bring it to a hard peak before kissing his way up her throat and back to her lips. As his mouth consumed hers he guided himself to her wet core and dipped inside. She wrapped her legs around him, trying to drive him in deeper, harder and faster.
Zoe couldn't get enough of John. She wanted all of him as she met his movements. He let the pressure begin to build as he felt her tighten around him and they rode the wave of pleasure together.
As their heartbeats calmed, John rolled over, taking her with him. They lay next to each other, with her back to his chest, his arm around her waist; their hands intertwined; and slowly fell asleep.
The End