A/N This chapter takes us to the past and we find out how John and Joss initially met, the circumstances that drove them together and eventually we come to learn of his supposed 'death'. Hope you enjoy this chapter.
10 YEARS EARLIER
March 2003
John stood in the shower stall at the safe house in Prague. He held his hands out cupping the tepid water in his palms, then splashed it over his face. He tried to clear his mind, his thoughts. So many conflicting images swirled around in it. He heard the thud of bodies hitting the ground, the sound of silencers slicing the air. He winced, closing his eyes, remembering having to dispose of them, watching their remains swirl down a drain, blood and body parts, now joined into one. They disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again.
He saw images of Jessica, dressed in white, walking down the aisle to meet Peter Arndt at the end of it. He imagined that she was beautiful, her golden hair about her shoulders, pink lips and innocent eyes hid behind the mystery of a veil.
Today was her wedding day.
The numbing ache he felt was stronger than any blow he'd ever been struck with. It was over. It was inevitable and he knew that the minute he joined the CIA. He wasn't who she needed. He'd never be the man she remembered anymore. And though she told him she was willing to wait, trying to be brave in the airport, she didn't really know who he'd become. He could only utter the words after she was long gone. But he knew it was too late.
Tonight she would be on her honeymoon and her new life would begin.
So would his.
He scrubbed at his skin, trying to wash away the events of the day. Trying to scrub away the stain of his cowardice, trying to rid himself of the memories of her and his desires to someday make new ones to replace them. There was no hope now, he finally realized it.
No, he finally accepted it.
Later, he lay on one of the small military cots in what was supposed to be their sleeping quarters, nursing a cheap bottle of Czech whiskey. He heard footsteps coming closer and took a deep breath knowing the confrontation that was about to come.
The door swung open and he sat upright, resting the bottle down on the ground. Her eyes were blazing, she was angry, but that was nothing new. She was angry with him often.
"What is it Kara?" He asked eyeing her coldly.
"Leave? You're going on leave? Now? At a time like this?" She stood close to him, hands on her hips.
"Yes, I'm going first thing in the morning." He replied dryly.
"What about Madison? We're supposed to go pick him up in the evening."
"You can handle him on your own. Snow agreed with me."
"This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that your old sweetheart got married today would it?"
He got up from the bed slowly and she looked up at him as he towered over her.
"What's the matter boy scout? You still jealous of Peter?" She taunted with a smile on her face. "Sooner or later you're gonna have to accept the fact that there's no normal life in your future. This is it right now. This is all it's ever gonna be."
"Kara I am not in the mood. So if you don't mind….." He gestured towards the door, indicating that she leave.
"Well as it happens, John…..I am in the mood." He was not surprised as she walked up to him and put both her hands on his bare chest. She was always especially amorous after a kill, even more so if they got into an argument after it. He found a certain release in giving in to his twisted desire for her. He was able to expel some of his frustration, his anger and his helplessness by pushing himself deep inside her.
Even in bed she fought for dominance, it was a battle of wills between them in everything they did as partners, but tonight, he was unwilling to play their game. Her arms were around his neck now, her fingers digging into his flesh. And she tilted her head up, ready to receive his kiss.
He closed his eyes holding in his anger and pushed her away roughly. "This isn't happening tonight, Kara. Get out."
Something ignited in her eyes and she walked back up to him, striking him in the face. "Oh, I think it is."
He grunted mildly at the blow and gripped her wrist when she went to hit him again. She lifted her other hand but he grabbed it before she could land another punch and twisted both hands behind her back. She struggled against him twisting the heel of her boot into his bare toes. He winced but didn't let go and pushed her up against the hard brick wall of the room.
"I realize this is all foreplay for you, Kara, but I'm really not interested. I promise you that."
"Are you sure?" She cried out as he pressed his knee into the back of her thigh and twisted her arm tighter. He bent his head close to her ear and his voice was low, dark and menacing.
"I'm pretty sure you don't want me to prove it to you." His hold on her arm was tighter now, if he increased the pressure any more, it would snap and break.
"Alright, alright. You win. Let me go, damn it!" He pushed away from her abruptly and she staggered to the doorway. "You son of a bitch!"
He felt no remorse for what he'd done just now. He felt no anger. The only thing he felt was mild indifference.
He was losing himself, his soul. The more time he spent with her he felt pieces of who he used to be, slip away bit by bit.
He slept, but he didn't feel rested when he got up. He left the safe house without saying goodbye to Kara and two hours later he was on a plane heading for Paris. He hoped that a change of scenery if only for a week would bring a little clarity to his mind.
Jocelyn Carter stood in line at the gate at the Norfolk International Airport in Virginia waiting to board her flight. She was heading to Paris on a one week trip that was supposed to be her honeymoon. Instead she was travelling alone, having caught her fiancé cheating on her just two months shy of their wedding date.
She'd been devastated, depressed and had to go through the embarrassing task of contacting all the guests and telling them the wedding was off. She spent hours on the phone with vendors cancelling orders for flowers, food, the wedding and reception location. She'd had to endure stares from the people at the office, questions about what happened, the well meant words from her friends and family and her fiancé pleading with her for them to work it out.
What was there to work out? She wondered. He'd obviously made a choice, and he didn't choose her.
Paul Andrews. She met him at a repair shop while her car was getting serviced. He was the definition of tall dark and handsome. He had beautiful eyes, a radiant smile and skin the tone of dark chocolate. He chatted her up while she waited for the mechanic to get her keys and her invoice. He told her he was an architect and he had an office in Virginia Beach where he also lived. He asked her to dinner and she'd enjoyed their brief conversation in front of the garage so much she said yes. She'd fallen for him almost instantly and they dated for two years before he proposed.
She thought everything was perfect. They shared the same goals, wanted the same things, they were ready to start a family. But walking in on him having sex with someone else proved her theory wrong. She was stunned, rooted to the spot and as he and the girl scrambled to get their clothes on, she felt almost as if she would black out.
She barely heard the words he said to her, his explanations, his pleadings for her to understand, to forgive. It wasn't until the next morning she began to break down, so badly that she wasn't able to go in to work. She'd spent the entire day in bed, crying, trying to make sense of what had happened. Trying to figure out what she did that wasn't enough. What was it that she did to make him want someone else?
For weeks she tried to figure it out, tried to make sense of it. She was on the verge of taking him back, but she realized she didn't trust him anymore. And if she couldn't trust him, she couldn't be with him. She'd always have that nagging feeling in the back of her mind that he'd betray her again. So here she was, thinking of a new chapter in her life and she hoped this trip was the jump start she needed.
With her boarding pass in hand, she walked onto the plane and took her seat. It was near the window and this was just a short connecting flight to New York, where she'd board the next plane for Paris.
She needed to get away from it all. She needed a break to clear her head. She needed to figure out how she'd get over him. She promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore. She'd shed enough tears in the last month to last her a lifetime. One thing she was sure about was that she never wanted to see him again.
After this week was over, she planned to throw herself into her work. She wasn't interested in dating in the near future. All she wanted to do was focus on her career. She'd just made Senior Associate at McMillan & Shane. She considered it a great accomplishment at her age. She was young and at the age of 32, she was the youngest senior associate at the firm. She knew all eyes would be on her in the new position. There were many who wanted her to fail and she planned to prove all of them wrong.
But she wouldn't think about that now. She'd just relax on this vacation and pretend that nothing back home existed. She planned to have fun, eat drink and immerse herself in the French culture as much as she could.
Her flight arrived in New York a little over an hour later and forty five minutes after that, she was on her way to Europe. As the plane finally ascended into the air, she waved goodbye to the city and closed her eyes. She fell asleep just a few minutes later.
The small apartment looked pretty much how he'd left it. He'd called ahead to tell the landlord to have it cleaned and to stock it up with enough food to last him for a week and he was happy to see that all he'd asked for had been done.
He had owned the place for a little over a year although he hardly used it, only when he was on leave which wasn't often. He'd used it once when they had to work and he didn't want to spend the night at the safe house with Kara, when he wanted to pretend he wasn't John Reese.
He opened the windows feeling the cool night breeze hit him in the face.
He wanted to go out.
He unpacked his clothes, took a quick shower and got dressed in a simple dark pair of jeans and a black polo shirt.
He threw on a leather jacket and headed for the bar around the corner. It was his usual hangout and familiarity was what he craved now more than ever.
He walked through the wooden doors, and immediately the sounds of music filled his ears. There were a good number of people here and he was glad that it was the sort of place that catered to a more mature crowd. Old Louis was behind the bar, his jovial smile in place, his voice booming above the volume of the music.
He didn't recognize the waitress when she came over to take his drink order. This girl was much younger, a little wet behind the ears and she introduced herself as Celine. She stumbled over her words. She was either really shy or really nervous. He humored her with a lazy smile and ordered a beer for a start. Maybe later he'd try something heavier.
He settled into his chair and ordered some mini croque monsieur snacking on the tiny sandwiches when they arrived. Almost an hour and a half hour later and about four beers deep he let his eyes sweep over the room watching everyone who came in.
His eyes went to the door as he saw them swing open and he was taken aback at the beauty that suddenly walked in. He sat up in his chair and watched as she stood at the entrance looking around, wondering if she wanted to stay or not. By the look on her face she was skeptical, and he found himself willing her not to leave.
She was striking, he thought. Her hair was wavy, hanging loosely over her shoulders. She was average height though her heels made her look much taller. Her eyes were round, she had a full mouth and her skin, was a nice honey coloured brown. She wore a simple wine coloured tube dress that fell just under her knees and clung to her curves in just the right places. The outline of her hips and thighs were evident through the tight fabric and the sight of her butt as she walked over to the bar made him start to stiffen in his pants.
He took another pull of his beer draining the bottle and walked over to the bar. She was seated now and in the process of ordering a drink. Unfortunately Louis didn't speak very good English and her request for a particular cocktail was proving to be frustrating for both of them.
He'd found the perfect opening.
He leaned on the bar ordering another beer for himself and since he spoke in fluent French, Louis was quick to go and get it.
"I don't believe this." He heard her mutter. "Excuse me, sir. I wasn't quite finished ordering."
He smiled at her frustration and turned toward her leaning on the bar. "Do you need some help?"
She turned to him, relief passing over her face. "Oh my God." She started laughing. "Yes! I've been trying to order a pomegranate martini, but it's not quite working out."
"I kinda picked up on that." He said looking at her. She was facing him now and she slid her hand toward his.
"You did didn't you?" She laughed again and he loved the sound. "Can you please help me out? I'd really appreciate it. I'd even pay for this round."
"How bout you let me buy you this round, and you join me at my table at the back?"
She pulled her hand back and he stood still while she studied him for a moment. He felt almost like he'd been presented for a critique as her eyes swept over him from head to toe. Her gaze practically burned over him and he swore he saw her begin to blush a little. She nodded her head and agreed.
"Yes, okay. I will."
He turned to Louis, who was back with his beer and ordered her martini. He offered her his arm and she looped hers through it as they walked back to his table.
He loved how she felt at his side and he caught a whiff of her perfume as she stood next to him. It was a lovely light floral scent, intoxicating to say the least. He helped her into her chair and sat opposite her. She looked around the place taking it all in. Celine was back at the table with her martini and she took it with a smile raising the glass to her lips. He watched as she closed her eyes, making an hmmm sound.
"This is good. The old guy has some skills."
"Yeah, he definitely knows his way around a bar, among other places."
"So I take it you come here often." She said.
"Every now and then. I'm John, John Reese."
"Nice to meet you John Reese. I'm Jocelyn Carter." She took another sip of her drink and settled into her seat, crossing her legs. This caused her dress to ride up a bit and he cocked his head to the side looking at her legs. They were smooth and he wondered what they'd feel like under his hands.
"I can't tell you how glad I am that you are here. I probably would've ended up drinking whatever was on tap for the rest of the night."
"Now that would have been a tragedy."
She giggled at his attempt at dry wit.
"Yes it would have, because this martini is amazing. I would've missed out on this. You want to try it?"
"I'll take your word for it. Although I can't deny watching you drink it is…. very delicious."
"Well aren't you full of surprises. Multi lingual, tall, handsome, and a silver tongue to top it all off." Her eyes travelled along the full length of him again before she took another sip of her drink. This time she let her lips linger on the rim and the sight of her lips pressed together caused him to stir once more.
He wanted her.
He wanted to taste those lips. He wanted to feel them on his skin. He wondered what it would be like to kiss her senseless, suck on them and leave them swollen and quivering for more.
"So what brings you to Paris, Joss?"
He called her Joss.
She raised an eyebrow at it. People rarely shortened her name and those who did were those very close to her. Still she couldn't deny the way it sounded on his tongue.
She smiled. It had proven to be a talented tongue so far. He'd solved the quandary of her drink order and now he'd given her a nickname. She was interested to find out just what else his tongue could do.
But he'd asked her about her reason for visiting. She wasn't interested in hashing out her sob story with Paul. Firstly it was too personal a story to share and secondly she didn't want to ruin the moment with talk about her ex.
"Won an office competition, couldn't pass up the opportunity to come here, Paris, the City of Light. Once in a lifetime trip."
"Where are you staying?"
"I'm at The Normandy."
"It's a nice hotel, expensive." He remarked.
"Yeah, they went all out." He ordered another round of drinks for them and she studied him as he talked to the waitress. She wasn't lying when she said she found him handsome earlier. But there was something about him. He seemed reserved, she wouldn't call him shy, but she could tell he was used to holding back a lot of himself around people despite being capable of appearing friendly. He looked like he was good at blending in, as well as standing out when he had to.
He told her about his first time here, how he fell in love with the city and the people. He said he was on vacation right now and that he worked in construction. She found that hard to believe given the way he talked, moved and spoke, but she figured like her he needed anonymity so she didn't press him further.
She enjoyed his company, his conversation and she liked the sensual banter they exchanged. He'd been checking her out since he ordered her first drink at the bar and she made no attempt to hide her admiration of his looks.
With each drink she felt her inhibitions fly more and more out the window. She wasn't drunk, but after three drinks and her fourth on the way, she was comfortable. She slipped her shoes off under the table and in the middle of his sentence about a concert happening later in the week; she slowly slid her toe up the side of his leg.
"Oh I'm sorry." She said feigning surprise when he jumped a little at her touch. "Was that your leg?" Celine was back with her drink, a raspberry martini this time.
"You know it was. And you're not sorry." She liked his voice. It was deep now, low and raspy. His eyes were gleaming in amusement and something else. She licked her lips as he reached out, taking her hand. "Neither am I." He said and he trailed his finger along the inside of her palm. She felt something shooting through her. It was strong, stronger than anything she'd felt in a while. She wanted to drown in it. Her eyes fluttered a little, her lips parted. He leaned forward a little raising her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm.
He looked at her and she could see in his eyes the same thing she was feeling.
She wanted him.
"You want to get outta here?" He asked with his fingers still curled up in hers.
She nodded and downed the rest of her drink while he walked over to the bar and took care of the tab. He came back to the table and bent down to put her shoes back on, then he got up and took her hand.
"Come on." He said and led her outside. She moved closer to him as they walked down the street. There was music in the air and she felt light, carefree. She smiled as he raised her hand to his mouth kissing the back of it.
"Where are we going?" She asked idly."
"Just up the street and around the corner. My place isn't far."
She started to panic. Maybe she was making a mistake. Maybe she should just go back to her hotel. After all she didn't know him.
….and Paul….Paul had cheated on her. Tears started to sting her eyes.
She stopped in her tracks. "Wait." She said turning to him, nervously. "Kiss me." She put her arms around him, her heart beating so fast she felt it would come out of her chest. She felt his hand go behind her neck, his other around her waist and he bent his head close to hers. She opened her mouth under his and felt a wave of something overtake them as he kissed her. His lips were hot, fiery and she groaned into his mouth as he took her. His hand on her lower back pulled her closer; she could feel him getting hard underneath his jeans.
She put her hands under his shirt; felt his bare skin and she couldn't describe the feeling of desire that was pulsing through her veins right now. She was moving backward, into an alley way and she was pressed against a wall.
She thought about propriety and dismissed it. She didn't care right now. She felt his lips at her throat, his hands moving over her breasts and soon his mouth followed. He pulled the neckline down and sucked at them teasing her nipples with his tongue. He called her name as her hands fumbled with the belt at his waist.
"Oh, God." She moaned softly, right before he plunged his tongue in her mouth. He pulled her dress up, and she swore, as his hands moved over her thighs and butt. She pulled him out of his underwear, her hands stroking him. He was hard, she thought, long and thick and she smiled a little right before he bit on her bottom lip.
"Hold onto me." He said breathily while he picked her up. He pushed her thong to the side and impaled her onto his cock.
They both cried out as he slid inside and he lifted her over and over, pressing her hard into the wall. She mewled softly in her throat, holding tightly onto his shoulders as he powered into her.
"Yesssssssssssssssssssss…." She groaned into his neck. His thrusts were hard and she felt the full impact of each one. He was filling, and so damn deep, she felt dizzy. She ran her hands through his hair, closing her eyes tightly as he moved inside her. Damn it she was close and she clenched on him as he hit her walls over and over.
Her orgasm was strong, and her nails dug into his back as he pounded into her for the last time. He groaned into her neck as he came.
Both of them were breathless for a moment and he held onto her for a little while longer while his mouth lingered on her shoulder. He slowly put her down on the ground and her legs were a little weak. He held her around her waist to steady her and she pulled her dress back down while he pulled his pants back up.
She felt like a silly teenager. She hadn't been this reckless in years. She didn't believe in it, but she knew one thing, she wanted his hands on her again.
"Let's go back to your place." She said. He held her hand and led her out of the alley slowly looking around. "Is the coast clear?" She asked.
He grinned and pulled her close. "It is. Come on."
