"This is it, Mr. Reese." Finch opened the gate to their library headquarters and ushered John inside. Bear greeted the two of them happily before trotting off to his bed.

Reese took a look around. "It's not the Ritz, but… functional."

Finch stood by his desk as Reese walked to the center of the room.

"Joss and Fusco know about this place?"

"They do not."

"What about Zoe?" he hedged.

"You and I are the only ones who know about this. It's simply safer that way."

Reese had his doubts about that but he nodded.

"As I told you before, John, The Machine gives us a number. A social security number of the person or persons about to be involved in a violent crime. However, there is another step involved. Hence the reason we are in a library." Finch held up a book lying on his desk. "It gives us the social security number in code. The Dewey Decimal System to be exact."

"How often do these numbers come?"

"Quite often." Finch moved to sit at his desk. "There have been lulls, but no longer than a few days."

Reese nodded again and walked over to the window. "Joss. She was a number?"

Finch looked up from his computer monitor. "Yes."

"What happened?"

Finch waited a beat before responding. "Detective Carter was targeted by a mob boss. Carl Elias."

"Why?"

"Essentially, for doing her job, Mr. Reese."

"How did we stop it?"

"Elias tried to have her murdered through one of her confidential informants. She was shot but she was wearing her vest. You arrived just in time before he could finish the job. And you sent a… message to Elias that she wasn't to be harmed in any way."

"It worked?"

"You can be very…. persuasive, Mr. Reese."

The corner of John's mouth curled up at that, glad to know he'd put in the extra effort for Joss's protection.

He heard Finch rise from his chair and turned away from the window. He watched as Harold pulled some items from a filing cabinet, walking over as he spread them across the desk.

"These are your various aliases. Driver's licenses, passports, credit cards."

Reese surveyed them. Just like the agency.

"Earpiece." He handed the device to the former operative. "I take it you've gotten acquainted with John Warren."

"Maybe not acquainted but his ID was in my wallet."

"He's your clean cover. His background includes much of your own. We've had to use it fairly recently, but we'll get into the specifics another time."

Reese could tell there was a significant story there, yet another incident he couldn't remember, but there would be time for that later.

He wandered back over to the window, working his way to what was on his mind. "How does Zoe fit into all this?"

Finch sat back down in his seat, curious about John's line of questioning this morning. "She's a fixer. And a previous number of ours as well. She knows a lot of high people in high places which we've occasionally used to our advantage."

Reese nodded. Still nothing about her being his girlfriend. "Does she know what happened?"

Finch suddenly felt a pang of guilt for not contacting Ms. Morgan. Quite frankly, she hadn't been a priority when it came to informing John's associates. "I didn't contact her, no."

"Am I seeing her, Finch?" When he didn't get an immediate answer, he turned to look at his partner. He looked uncomfortable.

"I'm unsure of what your arrangement is, Mr. Reese."

"So, we have an arrangement?"

"Like I said, John, I'm unsure. You've spent some time together outside of work, however….."

"However what?" Reese prompted.

Finch sighed. This wasn't a topic he was enjoying the discussion of, but he knew it needed to be done. John had lost all recollection of all of them and the only way he'd know who he was now was if someone told him. "I can't be certain, but….I don't think it's anything...serious."

It explained a lot. Why Finch hadn't told her what happened to him and why he hadn't heard from her. Why Joss thought he was seeing her. Harold wouldn't say it but it sounded like he and Zoe scratched one another's itches from time to time. Like him and Kara.

Quiet draped the small room for many seconds while John contemplated asking his next question. "What about Joss?"

"What about her, John?" Finch held his breath, knowing where this line of questioning was going and futilely wanting to delay it.

"Are she and I…. close?"

Harold didn't know how to answer that one. Because it depended on what precisely John was asking. The detective had risked her life and livelihood for him; he'd always been especially protective of her. That constituted closeness, didn't it? But, then, John looked wholly besotted by her when he met her again yesterday evening. And there were times before John's accident where he wondered….

This was something he wanted to discuss even less than John's relationship with Ms. Morgan.

"You've been through some exceptional things together. I do believe that has given you a very unique relationship. What that means, Mr. Reese…" Finch trailed off.

John nodded to himself. That was probably all he was going to get out of Harold, and it reinforced his own ideas about how special Joss was. He was going to make sense of his relationship with her, of whatever pull he immediately felt toward her. He had to. It was too distracting. He hadn't felt that warmth, that draw from a woman in so long, not since Jessica. Only the attraction was different. More potent. Joss was different. Joss was potent. And it made no sense since he'd just met her. Sort of.

Trying to put his personal thoughts on the back burner, he sauntered back over to Finch's desk. "Have you gotten a number today, Finch?"

"There is a new number, Mr. Reese." Finch rose, grateful for the change in subject. He walked over to the printer, grabbing the photo and remembering how quickly John first took to the mission. He walked over to the board to post the picture. "I'll give you a quick rundown and text you the address." He turned to his friend and a small smile played across his face. "Best way to learn is to dive right in."

Carter and Fusco sat in their usual booth at their usual spot for lunch.

Fusco swallowed his fries. "I don't know if I wanna see him, Carter. It's gotta be weird."

Carter nodded. "It was." It absolutely was, but he didn't need to know exactly why. John had been vulnerable, feeling lost. That was why he was going to kiss her. That's what she had parked in her brain and left there that night before falling asleep. That's what would remain there.

"Wonderboy being Wonderboy but not knowing he's Wonderboy?" He shook his head. "Weird." He looked up at her. "Is he nice?"

Joss chuckled and shook her head at him.

"Wait. Why am I asking you? You're the only one he's always nice to. You wouldn't know the difference."

She rolled her eyes. "You should go see him."

"I think I'll wait for him to call me." Fusco looked up as someone approached their table. Speak of the devil…

Joss's heart started beating faster when she looked at Fusco's nervous face and turned her head to follow his line of sight. Seconds later, John was sliding in next to her in the booth, forcing her to slide over to give him room. And herself some space from him. He was in dark jeans, dark t-shirt, and a gray leather jacket she'd never seen before. She wondered if he'd missed the black suit, white shirt uniform memo and snickered to herself.

John looked across the table at Fusco and nodded in greeting. "Detective Fusco."

Fusco eyed him warily. It was weird already. "John. How's it goin'? Uh, how ya holding up?"He wondered what the hell he was supposed to say to someone with amnesia. Someone like John who couldn't remember he barely liked him. If at all.

Reese gave a slight shrug. "I'll live." He noted Lionel seemed a bit wary, maybe even a little nervous around him. Like he had some kind of power over the detective. Like Lionel was the beta to his alpha. There was probably an interesting story there and John made a mental note to ask about it. He also noted it was the total opposite with Joss, who had some kind of power over him whether she knew it or not.

John looked over at her. "Have a good evening, Detective?"

Joss decided to make a valiant effort not to act bothered by him and prayed he wouldn't do or say anything suspect in front of Fusco. She nodded and turned to him. "Finch put you back to work already?"

"No rest for the weary." She was wearing some kind of plum-colored lipstick, smelled indelible, and he had to make himself turn away from her. He was here on official business and Lionel didn't need to see anything Joss may not want him to see. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a slip of paper with a name on it. He slid it over to Fusco. "I wondered if you could get some information for us. His juvenile record was expunged and we need to see what it's hiding."

Fusco took it, looked at it, and nodded. "That all?"

"For now." He glanced between Joss and Fusco, deciding he wanted to get to know her partner a little better. "I know about Joss. Any kids, Lionel? Family?"

Still weird, Fusco thought. John was even saying his name without that condescending tone."A son. Divorced." He watched in shock as John actually smiled at him. Mr. Happy actually looking...happy.

"How old?"

"Twelve. Going on forty-five."

Reese let out a tiny snort. Same thing Joss had said about Taylor. "How long have you two been partners?" Looking at the pudgy detective, John wondered how close the two partners were, how capable Fusco was at protecting her. He didn't look former military. Probably only had cop training. And with the dangerous work she was involved in with him and Finch on top of her day job….

"Couple years now right, Carter?"

"Right."

Long enough to have formed some kind of bond, John thought. It had taken him about a year to get there with Kara.

They were both divorced, had one son. They had things in common. That was good. "Take a bullet for Joss, Lionel?"

There he was. There was the Wonderboy Fusco knew, with that stare that only bothered him a little bit now. Still, he got a little defensive. "She's my partner. And a damn good one. Of course I would."

John stared at him a bit longer, gauging his sincerity. After a while, he nodded. "Good. Keep it that way. "

Fusco shook his head and, after a few seconds, couldn't help but to smile to himself.

Carter felt embarrassed and irritated at John's behavior. "I have his back, too," she snapped.

John, however, was still focused on Fusco. "Something funny?"

"Nothin'. You just used to threaten me over Carter's safety before. This ain't my first time at the rodeo with you." What was it with Wonderboy and Carter's safety? He would flip out if she even got a hangnail, and it was already starting all over again. Well, truth be told, he knew what it was. He bet Wonderboy knew what it was, too.

Carter couldn't believe what she was hearing. What the hell was he doing threatening Fusco and why was she just now hearing about it? She wanted to tell him off, but she had to remind herself he was new to all this, new to her, was struggling to find himself again, and didn't need to be fighting with one of the few people he had in his life. She pulled her jaw back up and managed to hold her tongue. After all, he had done it because he cared, and he was doing it now because he cared. She quickly brushed aside the warm feeling that gathered within her and tried to hang on to her irritation.

While Joss bristled beside him, John was comforted knowing he had always made sure Joss was protected when he wasn't around. He also had to admit to himself that he liked Lionel Fusco. The man had a fire in his belly and seemed loyal. "How soon can you get me the file?"

"Might take some time," Fusco replied.

"We don't have much."

"You never do." Joss didn't look up from her plate when she answered. When she felt John's eyes on her, she glanced at him and added, "You need it yesterday. We know the drill." She refrained from adding the reminder that she and Fusco had day jobs because someone needed help, and not just because she knew she was being petty. When John did nothing but smirk back at her, she went back to focusing on finishing her lunch.

"I'll be in touch." Reese rose from the table and left, smiling to himself. Joss had spunk. He was going to enjoy getting a rise out of her in the future.

"I know." Carter sat up straight on the couch where she was blissfully lounging on a Saturday afternoon when there was a knock on her back door. "Hang on a second, Mom." Who the hell would be knocking on the back door instead of the front? One of the neighbors? She set her laptop on the desk and walked through the kitchen toward the door. She pulled the curtain to the side so she could see who it was and her damn heart started beating faster again. It was on her last nerve. Truly. She didn't like John like that. She didn't want him. Why weren't her physiological responses getting that message? "Someone's at the door, Ma, I'll call you back."

Hanging up and setting the phone on the counter, Carter closed her eyes and turned her face heavenward. Maybe she could act like she wasn't ho—too late. Damn, what did he want? He only ever came by if he needed something urgent or he was obviously bored and wouldn't admit it. She took a deep breath and sighed again. This new version of John could be here for anything and she wasn't ready. But maybe he had more questions. Maybe he was feeling stressed out and upset. How was she going to turn him away if that was the case?

She mentally braced herself and opened the door, trying not to let that smirk he had going—or was it a smile this time—get to her. "This is different."

John looked a question at her.

"You usually wait until I'm not home and let yourself in." He was definitely smiling now and her stomach fluttered. He stepped closer to the threshold, closer to her, and she wanted him gone. He was doing something to her and he knew it because she couldn't hide it, and it made her even more nervous.

"Want me to leave and come back?"

She squinted and shook her head at him. "I know you don't remember how you were, but you're still managing to get on my nerves like usual."

John chuckled softly to himself as he watched her turn and walk away from him. So, he had made it a point to get on her nerves in the past. It thrilled him now so he could see why. He stepped into the house and closed and locked the door behind himself. Following her through the kitchen and into her living room, he took in the blue sweatpants and gray tee shirt she wore. He felt relaxed knowing she had been lounging and he wasn't interrupting much.

Carter plopped down onto her couch and watched as he slowly walked around her living room, taking it all in. He stopped at her desk and the heat rose in her cheeks. Her laptop was open and, during her conversation with her mom, she had been busy researching retrograde amnesia so that she'd know better how to help him. She looked at her fingernails while he quietly stood there, staring at the screen, for what felt like forever. Finally, he moved on, stopping at the mantle.

He picked up the picture of her with Taylor. He looked at her. "Taylor?"

"Yeah. Took that a couple years ago."

He nodded and set the frame down. He glanced toward the stairs. "Is he here?"

"No, at his friend's house."

"Have I met him?"

She nodded. "Yeah." She shuddered a breath in remembrance. "This mob boss, Elias, kidnapped him to get me to release his cohorts from protective custody."

Elias. Same guy who had tried to kill her. John wondered why the man was still breathing. "What happened?"

"You promised me you'd bring him back to me, and you did."

He saw the look on her face, the flicker of terror as she remembered, followed by the look of sheer gratitude, and he finally understood one of those "exceptional things" the two of them had gone through.

"I still don't think I can ever thank you enough." Feeling herself getting choked up, she cleared her throat and looked down at her lap for a moment. "Anyway, he doesn't know what you do, just that we work together sometimes. Or at least I don't think he knows. Kids know more than you think they do sometimes."

"I bet he's a good kid." Reese smiled when Joss smiled.

"I got lucky."

"He probably feels the same way."

She smiled and looked down at her lap again.

John casually put both hands in his pants pockets and looked around at the room's decor. "What made you decide to be a cop?"

Carter shrugged. "We needed more good ones."

Reese nodded in agreement.

"I actually took a detour and got a law degree. Only practiced for a year, though. Thought it would be...safer." She got lost in thought for a moment before shrugging once more. She smiled and met his eyes again. "But I missed the action."

John grinned at her in pure awe. She'd gone through law school and passed the bar on top of all her other accomplishments? She was entirely out of his league but he still wanted her, wanted the many ways she would probably make him a better man. "What haven't you done, Joss?"

She blushed and chuckled a bit to cloak it. "A lot of things, trust me." Tiring of talking about herself, she cocked her head and appraised him, wondering why he was here. "I promise I won't keep asking, but….have you remembered anything at all yet?"

Reese sighed softly, turning to unconsciously fiddle with the other picture of Joss and Taylor. "I remember what I've been told. Facts." He went silent as he thought about what Finch had told him about Jessica. The state in which Finch and Joss had found him. How her death had affected him. It hurt now knowing. That she was gone. But he didn't really feel it. He didn't feel whatever had led him to being destitute and probably full of despair. And he felt bad for not feeling it. Jessica had been important to him, but he hadn't been able to commit to her and had let her go. And here he was. A killer but not anymore. Supposed to be in deep mourning but feeling fine. Inexplicably wanting a woman he just met but not really.

He turned to look at her as she rose from the couch and approached him, that concern and caring in her soft eyes again. His connection to this world he was trying to understand. "What if I don't get it back?"

It was strange seeing him like this. She didn't like seeing him like this. Unsure. A little lost. She couldn't help herself and reached out to touch his forearm. John was equipped to handle so much, but who could be prepared to handle something like this? She felt frustrated that she couldn't help him after everything he'd done for her. That she and Finch just telling him things, trying to get him to remember, was probably making things worse for him. She could only imagine how trying it was knowing what he was supposed to be feeling about things, but being unable to feel them.

She wasn't sure what to tell him. She couldn't tell him to keep the faith, that he'd eventually get his memories back. Because it was entirely possible that he wouldn't. There would probably be only one thing to do. "You make a new starting point and go forward. We'll be here. We'll help you. You're not alone."

John stared into her eyes and the feeling of déjà vu washed over her again, followed by the warning bells. She needed to put some distance between them. Offer him something to drink. A distraction. Something.

What was it about her? Joss Carter? Why did she care about him so much? Why did he need it now so badly? No one cared about him. He lived in the shadows. He cut the last person who cared about him out of his life because he was a soldier, a fighter. Always would be.

And so was Joss.

She worked with him. Side by side. She was tough, intelligent, sought out the battle. Needed it like he did if her giving up law was any indication. She was his equal and she accepted him. Cared about him. Believed in him.

His eyes swept over her face and the urge to be closer to her swelled within him. Her hand was still on his forearm and he turned his palm up, cupping her forearm and pulling her toward him as his eyes settled on her lips.

Carter quickly released his arm and his hold loosened. "I didn't offer you anything to drink. Want some water or something?" Her voice wavered slightly and she had to force herself not to draw attention to it by cringing. She was grateful for his nod even though she knew he was only agreeing for her benefit. She turned and headed toward the kitchen, angry and frustrated and embarrassed. Why was he doing this to her? Why now? Why was she responding to it in that way? She wanted her John back. The one who kept his distance. The one who looked at her in ways that made her mildly curious but didn't touch. The one she could sit down and talk with without any of these damn complications.

She made it into the kitchen and only got so far as grabbing a tumbler from the cupboard before it was taken out of her hand and placed on the counter. She lost it when she felt his strong hands on her hips, turning her around to face him. She lamented one last time about her John and let this new John tentatively brush his nose alongside hers before he slid his lips over hers.

Soft, determined brush strokes. Like he'd invented the art of kissing.

Needing to steady herself, she clutched his forearms as she unconsciously rose to the tips of her toes and turned her head to pull at his bottom lip.

Soft and gentle they were. His lips. She felt drunk as she sipped, as his hands moved back and forth along her waist, coaxing her to open up to him. It worked and she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to meet hers for only a moment. He pulled back, appreciative and unappreciative of the tease. Grasping both sides of her face, he went in again with purpose and she received the message when he parted her lips and wrapped his tongue around hers: no more teasing.

It turned hot, hasty, like he was trying to kiss her from every possible angle, reach every possible corner of her mouth before it inevitably ended. She found herself wanting the same. She did the same.

John. This new John. Like her old John, and she could no longer lie to herself that she didn't want every inch of him.

Reese hadn't intended to go where his body now wanted him to. Joss was softer than he'd imagined. Her lips, her waist, her hips. Everything in his life was hard—he was hard—but this softness, her softness, was new and invigorating and he wanted to wrap himself in it.

Joss Carter. Soldier, mother, detective, lawyer….lover.

When she wrapped her arms around his neck, when she mewled and moaned and mewled again, his body informed him that he had a choice to make: countertop or couch. Several seconds later, he hovered over her on her deep, plush couch, kissing her neck while his hands carried out the rest of his mission. Slipping them under her shirt, he kneaded her breasts through her bra, deciding he wanted to see them immediately. He pushed her shirt up and she lifted her torso, raising her arms so he could take it off. Bra unfastened and off, he pushed her back down until she was prone again, mouth covering one nipple while his right hand drifted beneath the waistband of her sweatpants and panties and in between her thighs.

"Oh god." Had she said that out loud? In the tiny recess of her mind that wasn't being driven by lust, she wrestled with the thought that this was wrong. She felt like she had back when she was a teenager, knowing she was doing something wrong, but her actions were snowballing and the longer they went on, the less capable she was of stopping. She'd gotten in too deep, the damage was already done. The only thing left was to pray she didn't get caught so she didn't have to suffer any consequences.

A loud crashing noise sounded above them and the two soldiers immediately pulled apart, alert and listening. Joss watched as John's eyes lifted toward the stairs.

"Sounded like it came from upstairs." He was out of her pants, off of her, off the couch in seconds. "Stay here."

She didn't; instead she found her t-shirt and slipped it on as she followed him in soaked panties up the stairs. It didn't take him long to find the source—a sconce that had fallen from the wall and shattered on her bathroom floor—and she stood beside him just inside the en suite bathroom door. "How the hell did that fall?" She started to step closer to see the extent of the mess when he looked at her stocking feet, placed his hands on her waist and halted her movement, gently pushing her back.

"Stand back. I'll get it."

He immediately squatted and started picking up the larger pieces of glass while she left for the broom and dustpan she kept in the hallway closet. Always protective he was. She wanted to be irritated, but it felt good having someone so competent and caring have her back. This was a mess, though. She had no business trying to sleep with John, let alone this John. One who didn't know her, didn't even know himself anymore. It felt wrong, like she was sober and taking advantage of someone who wasn't. He technically had brain damage, didn't he?

When she returned with the broom and dustpan, she handed them to him and stepped back as he went to work.

"Did you just hang it?"

She shook her head. "No, it's been up there since we moved in."

"Think you'll be able to replace it?"

"Doubt it. But I can always just replace the glass with something different."

He didn't say anything further until he finished shaking out and removing the bathroom rugs before sweeping up the last of the shards. He turned off the bathroom light and walked toward her. He indicated the rugs he'd placed just outside the bathroom door on the floor before he faced her. "Better put those in the wash to be safe."

She nodded. "I will." She smiled. "Thanks." She stood there awkwardly, wondering what the hell they were going to do now. What the hell she should say. But it looked like he knew exactly what he wanted and she shifted uncomfortably under his thick gaze.

He stepped to her, wrapping his hands around her waist and pressing his body against hers. "Where were we?"

His low, rumbling voice made her shudder before she found herself kissing him again, answering the plea that was on both his lips and the tip of his tongue in her mouth.

It was a shame really, she somehow managed to think. The sex would have been out of this world if the prelude was any indication. But the snowball had melted and what remained was what she'd started with before he touched her and made her lose her mind.

Damn, her body was ready for this, though. How long had it been? And he was so gentle and rough, dominating and yielding, all the things she'd noticed in the John she knew. The combination was exciting and titillating and she wanted the entire experience. But he wasn't him anymore, so she pushed at his chest before they went tumbling onto her bed. "John…." She waited until he opened his eyes and put a few inches between his mouth and hers. She was still encircled in his arms. "This is not what we do. We don't do this."

He knew as much. But he had yet to figure out why. "Why?"

"We were just friends. Before this happened to you, we were just friends." It sounded weak and clichéd to her own ears and she knew he wouldn't accept it.

"Why?"

She grew frustrated and pulled away from him. What could she tell him? That she was never attracted to him and he was never attracted to her? Should she even bother lying through her teeth? "Because it's too complicated."

John's expression softened. At least she hadn't given him the Zoe Morgan excuse again. But she probably wasn't wrong, considering which sides of the law they officially fell on. "It's just a job, Joss. I could always find something a little more legal to do."

"What? No." She looked at him incredulously, needing to remind herself once again that he wasn't himself. The work with Finch was just that to him right now: work. Something in him needed to do what he did saving people, but he hadn't felt that pain to connect him to that part yet. "John, I know you don't really know it yet, but you need to do what you're doing. Just….don't do anything serious like that without thinking about it. Not yet."

Aggravation began to brew in the form of a headache. Everyone telling him what he did, what he wore, what he liked to eat, what he "didn't know yet, but." It had only been a week and he was tired of it. Tired of feeling like he was in a holding pattern. Unable to do whatever the hell he wanted because the John they knew "wouldn't do that" or wouldn't do it "that way." Waiting around, feeling like he had little control over his life as it stood right now was testing the limits of his patience and he felt rebellion coursing through his veins.

He stepped toward her and she was startled by the fierce look in his eyes. "I might not get it back. Not a lot makes sense, Joss. But you're the only thing that…." It got stuck in his throat. He hadn't done this in awhile. Talk about his feelings. People like him in the CIA didn't have relationships like this.

"I'm back, Ma!"

Taylor's voice sounded and Carter watched as John looked in the direction of the sound. She didn't know if her son's timing was bad or good. She needed to squash this crazy notion that she and John could be together immediately, but she wondered if whatever he was going to say would have pushed her in the opposite direction.

She looked down at her bra-less chest and hurried to her dresser to grab another shirt to layer on before she headed out of the room and down the stairs, sensing John on her heels. Taylor had set his keys on the table in the foyer and was starting toward the kitchen when he stopped to face her. "You're early." She had already decided not to explain why she was upstairs with John.

"Yeah, I have a headache." Taylor looked over at John, only slightly surprised to see him. "Hey, John."

While Carter did what moms do and first placed the back of her hand against her son's forehead before placing her palm against his cheek and neck, Reese nodded once and greeted the teenager. "Taylor." He observed him, noting that he was taller than his mother and his hair was cut shorter than it was in the more recent picture of him on the mantle. He wondered what kind of relationship he had with the boy. He'd found him when he was kidnapped, and Joss said her son didn't know what he did for a living, but did he see him often? Surely, he checked in on Taylor to make sure he was safe.

Did he ask him about his homework when he saw him? Girls? Had Joss told him about the amnesia? He was spared the task of coming up with something to say to Taylor when his mother led him into the kitchen.

"Did you take something?" she asked.

"Not yet."

John stayed behind for a few seconds, feeling out of place. Thinking he should probably go, he stepped just beyond the kitchen threshold. "I better get going." He looked pointedly at Carter. "I'll be in touch, Joss." He nodded again at Taylor. "Taylor." Then, he made his way past them and back out the back door.

Reese sighed as he made his way into the library early the following Wednesday morning. It was gloomy, raining, the air was sticky, the smell of exhaust was thick, and he again wondered what made him put down homeless roots in New York City. He could really do with a simple life in a simple town somewhere. Maybe a cabin in Montana. It was never too late, he thought before he reined it in and got his mind right for the work he needed to do.

As he stepped into the room, he noticed the lack of Finch and looked at his watch. He shrugged his shoulder. He was a little early.

He went to sit down at the desk when his phone buzzed with an alert. Taking it out of his pocket, his outlook on the day changed when the reminder flashed on the screen: 8:00am Carter's birthday. He frowned. She hadn't mentioned her birthday was approaching when he'd seen her last week. Then again, she didn't seem like the type to advertise it, especially since she was concerned about his problems.

The dilemma hit him almost immediately. He or Finch had put the reminder on his phone, so what did he usually do for her birthday? Buy her a card? Seemed generic and lacking. A gift card? Spa package maybe? A little better than a card he supposed. Women liked getting pampered, didn't they? Or did he usually go with something more significant? Like earrings or a necklace. Would that have been too personal? Did he simply buy her breakfast or take her to dinner, or was there only a "Happy Birthday" phone call before the day was over?

He felt frustration bloom and spread within him once again. He still couldn't figure out what kind of relationship they had before his head injury. "Friends" was all he would ever get out of her now, but he knew there was more to it or everything that happened in her house wouldn't have. Had he been testing the waters and she just wouldn't say?

Friends. John scoffed.

Okay, so what kind of gift would he give to a friend on her birthday? Should he even bother trying to come up with something he would have done before? Maybe he should focus on the present. Just do what he wanted to do now. And what he wanted to do now was take her someplace nice for dinner so he could spend more time with her and just….talk.

He heard Finch and Bear approaching, interrupting his musings. He still didn't know exactly why, if Bear was his dog, he spent most of his time with Finch. Something else he wanted to eventually ask about. When they entered the room, Reese greeted him. "Morning."

"Good morning, Mr. Reese." Finch reached down to unhook the dog's leash.

Reese rose from the desk and went to occupy the other chair in the room as Bear made his way over to him to get his morning affection. "Any number yet?"

"Yes. Just give me a moment." Finch sat down at his desk, moving the mouse to turn on the screens. "It's Detective Carter's birthday today. I want to have some breakfast delivered to her desk." He looked up at Reese. "And we'll try not to disturb her with any extra work."

John nodded approvingly. "Fine." He smirked. "I'll take care of dinner."

Carter's birthday hadn't started off well. It was raining and she did not want to trudge through it to get to work. It had been dry for over two weeks straight and then had the nerve to rain on her birthday. She was grumpy when she first arrived, but the day immediately improved with the birthday greetings she received, when her favorite coffee landed on her desk by way of her partner, and Finch's diabetes-laden breakfast had arrived. She sent him a text thanking him and worried about what John was going to do. Because she knew he was going to do something.

She hadn't spoken to him since he left her apartment and she wondered if he was upset with her. And she got mad for caring that he might be upset with her. But what was she supposed to have done? Give in? If she had, they'd have been caught by her son coming home early. She shuddered and thanked God once again that that didn't happen. Besides, she just….couldn't imagine being in a relationship with John Reese. What would it look like? He drove her insane but they'd probably be having sex five times a day. Something about him made her want to punch him in the throat for the crazy things he did while wanting him in the worst way for the same reason. It would be draining. She was too old for that. She should have done the bad boy thing in her twenties. The whole thing would be foolish and not just because he wasn't himself.

She made it to the two-hour mark when her phone buzzed and she was finally put out of her misery. Or into it further. "Carter."

"Happy birthday."

His voice in her ear immediately conjured up memories of his lips against hers and his hand between her thighs. She shifted in her chair. "Thank you."

"Enjoy your breakfast?"

"Yeah, even though I'm gonna pay for it later."

"Nothing wrong with treating yourself, Joss."

She tried to ignore the double meaning and shifted again. "Sometimes." There was a long pause before he spoke again.

"Plans for this evening?"

Shit. She really didn't have any and raced to come up with a plausible lie. Birthdays at her age weren't events anymore. Taylor and her mom usually got her a card and a small gift, sometimes something she'd asked for, sometimes something she didn't really want or need. And her two girlfriends usually took her out to dinner on the weekend if her birthday fell during the week. Beyond that, she was simply happy to see another year with both her boy and her health. But since she was dealing with the likes of surveillance happy John and Harold, she stopped trying to come up with an excuse and resigned herself to whatever he wanted to do. "No, just hoping I don't catch a case and have to work all night."

"I wanted to take you to dinner. There's a nice seafood place in Manhattan. Le Bernardin. What do you think?"

She'd heard of it. So not only did she have to have dinner with him, she was going to have to find something formal to wear. "You sure you don't wanna do Applebee's or something?"

He chuckled. "I'll pick you up at six."

He hung up before she could protest, and she suddenly wished she would catch a case. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Dinner with John. She prayed she'd have the strength not to do anything stupid tonight.

So far, so good, Joss thought as she sat across from John at the restaurant. The weather had cleared up by lunch, she'd had a relatively easy work day, and had found a black cocktail dress in her closet to wear when she got home. She also had not dragged John to her bedroom to finish what they'd started after he'd shown up with a policeman teddy bear holding two foil balloons, an edible arrangement, a chocolate sheet cake, a gift certificate to a luxury spa, and a bouquet of flowers. Instead, she'd stood there a little speechless, reminding herself that she was dealing with New John. Old John had simply had a small cake delivered to her home last year and stopped by to have a drink with her when he finished with his work that day. And the year before that, she was too busy chasing him for him to bother.

She'd continued to not make a fool of herself as they arrived at the restaurant and he spent the time asking her more about herself while she marveled at how handsome he looked under this lighting. As they ate, she turned the conversation toward him, avoiding any topic from the time period he couldn't remember.

"What have I told you?" he asked in between bites of merluza, their main course.

"Not a whole lot."

John nodded, wondering why he'd told her so little. He'd felt like he could trust her with anything from the second he'd met her—the second time—but she knew a different man. One who had been broken when he met her, and who probably wanted to tell her but couldn't.

"What kind of a student were you? One of the popular kids that got straight As and played sports?"

Reese smiled and shook his head. "That sounds like you."

She snorted. "No."

"Straight As though, right?"

She looked coy. "Maybe."

"Track and field?"

She looked at him, surprised he'd guessed correctly. "Not real a sport, though."

"It is a real sport." He took a sip of his wine.

"Anyway, we were talking about you."

"B student. Pretty much played everything but football. Kind of quiet, a little shy." He watched her smile broadly, falling into its depths.

"You know what? I'm not surprised. I can see you as the introverted type. Shy, too, when you were little." Strong, silent type. That was John.

One side of his mouth quirked up and he leaned toward her. "You don't think I'm shy anymore?" She gave him that look. The look that said he was an irritating son of a bitch and he lapped it up.

Joss shook her head. He just loved to mess with her. Funny how that hadn't changed. She honed in on his eyes as he leaned closer. They were lighter than she was used to, more open. Definitely more open. He looked at her with barely concealed adoration and desire. Old John had cloaked it in sarcasm and smirks so she would oftentimes doubt what she was seeing. This John, well, he didn't care, and she reminded herself not to do anything stupid as she leaned toward him. "What color are your eyes?"

He answered softly, boring them into hers so she'd see their color and everything else in them. "What color do you see?"

"John." Zoe Morgan first glanced at him before looking at Carter. "Detective." She turned back to John while Joss immediately sat back and he turned his head in Zoe's direction to see who was addressing them.

Joss could be honest. This wasn't what she needed or wanted right now. She looked at the smiling woman with the questioning look on her face and wished like she'd never wished before that she had gotten a homicide to investigate on her birthday.

She watched as Zoe looked back and forth between them, obviously waiting on one of them to respond to her greeting. Joss turned to look at John. He looked like he was trying to place the newcomer, like he'd never seen Zoe before, and Carter quickly realized Finch hadn't reintroduced them yet. Which meant Zoe didn't know about the amnesia. Which meant this was going to be even more awkward than she thought.

When John turned to look at her expectantly, waiting for an introduction, Joss launched into one. "Uh, John, this is Zoe Morgan." She stared back at him, seeing the light bulb go off in his mind while feeling Zoe's ever more questioning eyes on her.

Reese turned back to Zoe and plastered a smile on his face. Should he stand up and shake her hand? It didn't seem to jibe with greeting someone he was probably sleeping with. He stood up but kept his hand to himself. "Zoe." He nodded once toward her, unable to miss how strangely she was regarding him. "Sorry. I uh…. I know this sounds ridiculous, but I hit my head a couple weeks ago. There's a lot I don't remember."

He watched as Zoe's strange look turned into one of complete disbelief. She looked back at Joss still seated at the table before turning back to him. "Are you serious?" She looked at Joss again. "Is this a joke?"

Joss shook her head. "No, he's serious."

Zoe looked back at him, and it was obvious she was still not fully convinced. He couldn't blame her. While she was trying to wrap her mind around what she was being told, he studied her. She was an attractive woman, well-dressed, exuded confidence. If they had something going on, he could see why.

Zoe's smoky voice held a lilt. "You really don't remember me, John? At all?"

He shook his head, noting the slight disappointment in her eyes. It was the same look he'd gotten from Joss. And Finch. Even the dog.

Zoe turned back to Joss as she sat trying to remain excluded from their conversation. "Does he remember Harold? You?"

Reese answered, drawing her attention back to him. "I didn't, no."

Zoe sighed softly. "Wow. I don't know what to say. I'm sorry, John. I didn't know. Nobody told me." She reached out to touch his forearm and empathy replaced incredulity on her face. "What did the doctors say?"

Reese shrugged his left shoulder. "Waiting game."

"Do they think you'll get it back?"

"Most people do, but they don't want to say for certain."

Zoe smiled encouragingly at him. "I'm sure you'll get it back. If anybody can, it's you." She glanced at Carter briefly before looking back at Reese. "Are you back to work already?"

"Crime never sleeps."

While John answered the question on the surface, Carter read between the lines. She and John were dressed up, alone in a nice restaurant, and Zoe was curious whether it was what it looked like or not. Though she wasn't certain what kind of relationship Zoe and John had, she was pretty sure they were sleeping together. And she was damn sure that she missed the days when she didn't care. Regardless, Zoe had been blindsided by John's condition and probably wanted to know where she stood, and Joss couldn't blame her.

She was trying, but Joss was finding it impossible not to feel uncomfortable. Despite the fact that she and Zoe weren't friends—she had no real opinion of the woman since they'd only conversed a couple of times—if that sconce hadn't fallen…..she knew it was ludicrous, but she was feeling like the other woman and was more than ready for Zoe to move along.

Reese continued. "But I'm off the clock tonight." He smiled toward his dinner companion. "Joss's birthday."

Zoe raised her eyebrows slightly and nodded before looking down at the detective.

Carter cringed inside. Why did he have to say something? Yeah, technically he was one friend taking the other out for her birthday. But she and John both knew it was more than that and they were probably telegraphing it to the whole restaurant.

"Happy birthday, Joss."

Carter forced a smile. "Thanks." She blew out a breath, both to tame her wayward thoughts and to signal the change in subject that would hopefully send Zoe on her way. "So, why are you here? Business or pleasure?"

"Business." Zoe turned back to John. "Speaking of which, I better head back. Time is money." She reached out to touch his arm again. "I hope everything works out soon, John. If you need anything, just call me."

John could see she was sincere and stopped her as she turned to leave. "Zoe?"

She turned back to him.

"Sorry." Sorry I don't remember you. Sorry that, when I do, whatever we have going will be over.

Zoe smiled, and he hoped she'd caught his meaning. Then she told Joss to enjoy the rest of her birthday before she walked off and left them alone.

Sitting back down, John watched as Joss took a sip of her wine, her eyes not meeting his. He had gleaned two things from that encounter: Zoe and Joss didn't work together often and were not close, and though he could see why he was possibly sleeping with Zoe before, he didn't feel any desire for her now. The latter made him frustrated, yet again, that he couldn't remember so much of his current life. He was glad for the former, though, knowing Joss would never consider him otherwise.

Joss felt his eyes on her and decided to meet them. He was doing that smirk-smile thing and it immediately put her at ease. She shook her head and smiled. "You and your women, John."

He shook his head slightly and spoke softly as the smile left his face. "Just one woman."

Jesus. He could at least give her a break on her birthday. "I think they're green. But sometimes they look gray." She took it back to before they were interrupted and hoped he'd follow. He did, after staring at her awhile longer. She almost winced at the disappointment in those multi-colored eyes.

John sat back in his chair. She was incredibly stubborn and it only drove him to want to know what she was thinking about him even more. "They're green-gray when I look in the mirror. But sometimes I get hazel or blue."

"Well, what do you put on your license?" She caught herself and rolled her eyes. "Your fake licenses?"

He tilted his head, his expression thoughtful because he really had no idea what Finch had put on them. He leaned forward and reached into his back pocket. "I don't know what they say actually." He pulled out his wallet and found the license he was carrying. He looked at it, shrugged, and handed it to her.

Joss looked at it. "Hmph." He was John Warren tonight and Finch had given him blue eyes. She handed it back to him. "Blue eyes it is, then."

He put it back into his pocket. "He got the sex and height right, anyway."

She chuckled and sat back as the waiters approached to take away their dinner plates and serve their dessert course. Reese was served the Tres Leches while Carter was served the mango parfait…..and a huge piece of Peruvian chocolate cake with a single lit candle. "John, did you….?" She looked at him in surprise, wondering when he had told them it was her birthday, and he did nothing but grin.

One of the waiters looked at her and smiled, wishing her a happy birthday. She thanked him and looked at all the dessert laid out before her once they left. "I'm not going to be able to eat all of this, even though I want to." She pushed the cake plate toward the middle of the table. "You're going to have to help me eat this."

He pushed it back toward her. "Make a wish first."

"Oh. Yeah." She smiled at him bashfully, feeling overwhelmed. She closed her eyes, wished he'd get his memory back soon, and blew the candle out.

Moments later, she moaned in appreciation of the parfait and threw her head back in even greater appreciation of the cake.

Reese could do nothing but shake his head at her and smile.

"Do you want to try some of this?" She pointed her spoon toward her parfait.

He looked at her skeptically. "You sure you're willing to part with some of it?"

She smirked at him. "Here." She pushed her plate toward him and he took a spoonful, closing his eyes briefly as the taste excited his taste buds. "Good, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Very good."

"Want some more?"

He shook his head, patting his stomach and wincing. "Better not." He looked at her. "Want to try mine?" He watched her eyes light up as she looked at the caramelized cashew sponge cake and sorbet and licked her lips. She gave him an enthusiastic yes and he spooned some cake, mousse, and sorbet onto his spoon.

Carter swallowed when she realized he wasn't offering to put it on her plate. He held the spoon in his left hand while his right hovered beneath it and reached across the table. She leaned forward and met the spoon, not intending to hold his intense gaze but doing it anyway as she drew her lips down his spoon until all of the dessert was in her mouth. He watched her mouth and she chewed, asking God yet again not to let her do anything stupid.

"Good?" He asked, lifting his eyes from her lips to her eyes.

All she could do was nod and want him more than ever before.

"More?"

Yes. "No, I'm good, thanks." She nodded toward the cake. "Just please help me with this cake."

Reese pulled in front of Joss's home, unhappy that his time with her was coming to an end. He had wanted them to catch a show or take a walk or something, but it was a weeknight and she was a busy mom who needed to get up early for work in the morning. The lights were on in her house, signifying Taylor was inside, so if he was going to do it, he needed to do it now.

She looked over at him from the passenger seat, the box of leftover cake they hadn't been able to finish on her lap. She was in such good spirits because of him. She wanted to squeeze him, kiss him on the cheek to thank him for everything he'd done for her birthday. But his cheek was too close to his lips. She opened her mouth to thank him with words instead but he beat her to the punch.

He looked at the steering wheel and his voice was barely a whisper. "Is it just the amnesia, Joss?"

Joss's good mood plummeted. When she wanted to open the door and escape, she told herself to stay put. This was a conversation they needed to have. She looked down, nervously running her finger along the corner of the dessert box. "No."

Reese's heart sank and he felt the walls around it being erected.

Carter's voice was soft, unsteady. "I can't live a lie with you, John. That's what it'll be. Secrets. I have Taylor to worry about."

"I told you I can do something else. I don't—"

"No."

"There's more than one way to help people."

"I know, but…." She sighed. Hadn't she already told him not to make any decisions like this right now, when he didn't have all of his emotional information? This was scaring her to death, that he was willing to change his life to be with her. A woman he'd just met.

Wanting to tread safer waters, she retreated to the most obvious roadblock. "Besides, we're not on a level playing field. You don't remember how you really felt about me. About everything we've been through. Maybe a part of you stopped trusting me after I got you shot. You just don't know. And that's not all. It's you. You're different. You're….lighter….you smile more. You're not brooding like you do. You're not who I knew. We don't really know each other."

John listened to everything she said, taking several moments to compose his next words. "If I get everything back or I don't, I'm still going to want you. I'm going to remember everything that's happened since the accident. That's not going to suddenly disappear."

When she let that confession hang between them, when she said nothing, Reese solemnly laid out the facts as he knew them, forcing himself to accept the fact that this was beyond his control. Nothing he could do or say would change her mind. "You don't want me to quit. But you won't consider this if I'm still doing it. And my memory may never come back." He paused and released a soft sigh. "That's it then."

He didn't frame it as a question and her chest tightened at the finality in his tone. Her mind was awhirl. She didn't want to hurt him. She didn't want to lose him. She couldn't turn her feelings for him off, so what would their future look like? Would regret haunt her until the day she died?

Her pull toward him had always been there, just in different iterations as their relationship changed over the months, years. It was aggravating and exciting and she'd never experienced anything like it before. On the surface, it had followed a normal trajectory: adversaries, associates, friends. That transition from associates to friends—close friends—however….that had been swift and profound and had come with feelings she hadn't wanted nor asked for.

She wondered if her attachment to him stemmed from trauma. He'd saved her after she'd been shot by taking out her CI literally seconds before he took the kill shot. He'd promised her he'd get her son back—the person she loved more than anyone else on this earth—and he did. How could anyone not form some type of attachment to someone who had done all that? That was all it was, right? Right?

While she roiled with turmoil beside him, John opened his door and got out and she panicked. He had taken her silence as confirmation. She didn't want that. She wanted to explain. She wanted him to understand. She wanted herself to understand. She felt shell shocked when he opened her door and helped her get out. He kept his hand on her lower back as he guided her toward her front door, like he wanted to touch her for as long as he could before he had to stop forever. When they stood just outside her door, she found her damn voice finally after he told her happy birthday again and kissed her forehead. "I don't know what to do."

John could see that clearly in her glistening eyes. And he understood. But the situation was impossible and he was angry with himself for getting so attached to her so soon. He let a sad smile express itself before he cupped her cheek. Then he leaned down and kissed her, taking as long as he could to break it. "Goodnight, Joss."

He took the keys from her hand and unlocked the door for her. He put the keys back in her hand and opened the door.

Carter forced herself to step through the door and watched as he descended the steps and walked back to his car. She felt overheated from his kiss. But she wanted to cry.

Because that kiss felt like goodbye.

TBC