I do not own Person of Interest or any characters you may recognize.


"Son of a bitch!"

Pain tore through the right side of her body, spreading quickly from her healing shoulder to her ribs then her hip. Rough maroon bricks scraped her palm as Joss slid down the wall to collapse in a heap against the decorative shrubbery lining what was left of the bakery's storefront.

Scalding coffee from the crushed paper cup was steadily seeping through her opened coat front, and she could feel the sharp cardboard points of the cupcake box underneath her, digging into her side.

In spite of the burning sensation radiating from the middle of her back, Joss managed to pull herself upright enough to lean against the building and catch her breath. She inhaled deeply to clear the haze from her mind, but ended up choking on the gritty cloud of dust and grime floating around the wreckage.

Her sides protested with each heaving cough, but nothing felt broken or too out of place, so she clamped down on her top and bottom lip and forced herself to her feet.

Dizziness assailed her instantly, but Joss closed her eyes to take in another gulp of coarse air before she wound up back in the bushes. She kicked the smashed blue box and her purse further into the hedges with no time to worry about her personal belongings. Her body might be sluggish, but her mind was already in police mode, assessing the situation and formulating a plan of action.

The driver and the car needed to be secured before she could contain the scene, assess who needed medical attention, call for ambulances and interview any witnesses. Once other officers arrived she could hand over control and give her own statement, but for now she had to handle this one by herself.

Joss unclipped her Glock from her hip and stumbled forward a few steps while she unfurled the long ball chain on her badge holder to drape her shield around her neck. The adrenaline coursing through her system strengthened her shaky legs, helping her work her way through the growing number of onlookers.

"NYPD! Back up!" Joss shoved her way past the crowd with hoarse shouts

Two women frantically dialing 911 on their smart phones leapt out of her way, but a burly man with them started to follow her to the crash site.

No, Joss couldn't allow that. The last thing she needed was for another civilian to get hurt in this mess.

"Stand back!" she ordered.

The man retreated to stand on the fringes with his friends and Joss breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the familiar wail of sirens in the distance.

Off-duty weapon aimed at the driver's side window, Joss cautiously approached the car. This was probably an accident, but her years on the force taught her never to assume anything. This could also be a medical emergency, a drunk driver, a teen out for a joy ride, a man or woman on the run with nothing to lose.

"NYPD!" Joss shouted over the rumbling engine. She needed to get those keys out of the ignition. Turning off the car was her primary concern in case he or she tried to run, or a gas line had been punctured.

She surveyed the car and debris field with a critical eye: vehicle was a black third generation Chevrolet Caprice, windows shattered, front end partially inside the bakery, several customers appeared to be injured but none trapped under the vehicle.

Her attention turned to the lone man in the car: white male with short graying hair, late fifties, probably injured as well, slumped over the steering wheel, threats or weapons inside the vehicle were unknown at this point.

"Driver, can you hear me?!"

The man stirred and looked around in confusion. His dark brown eyes were glazed over but focused on her despite the blood oozing from a cut at his hairline. The trail of red slowly meandered down his temple and over a jagged scar on his cheek bone before dripping onto his dingy white shirt. Something about him seemed eerily familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Joss kept her gun trained on the man and issued her next command. "Driver! Show me your hands!"

He blinked twice then slowly lifted them, palms facing her.

"With your right hand, take the keys out of the ignition and throw them out your window."

The man remained motionless. Experience told her he might have a concussion, but she didn't want to have to reach across him to shut off the car, not without reinforcements to watch her back. Her suspect might make a grab for her weapon or throw the car in gear and drag her along for the ride.

"Do it now!"

Joss repeated her instructions, adding as much authority as she could muster with the nagging ache pinching her ribs. She could do this. The sirens were closer now, and in few more minutes she would gladly step aside to let her back-up take over.

The suspect slowly lowered his right hand and complied with her demands. She relaxed her stance slightly, knowing the car was no longer in play. Now she needed to get him out of the vehicle and in custody until she knew what she was dealing with.

"Keep your right hand raised!" There was no way to know if he had any weapons nearby, just out of her line of sight, and she wasn't going to take any chances.

Thankfully he did as she asked, but he didn't look the least bit nervous, which concerned her all the more.

"Slowly reach out with your left hand and open the door using the outside handle."

What she was going to do when he was out of the car was still sketchy. He obviously needed medical attention, but first she had to determine if he was a threat…and damn it she didn't have her handcuffs on her. Not something she thought she would need when she left her house to buy cupcakes.

Bits of broken glass and rubble crunched underfoot as she inched closer to the car. The man's cold eyes never left hers as he obeyed.

Metal scraped against metal as the door popped open, spreading another fine layer of grainy particles over the scene. Joss spared only a glance at the crowd to make sure it was contained, but that gave him all the opening he needed.

In a burst speed and agility that caught her by surprise, the injured driver swung the door wide and knocked her to the pavement. Joss heard angry shouts from the crowd and glimpsed several pairs of boots tromp past her to chase him down the block. She didn't have enough breath left in her body to warn them against following the dangerous man. Every cell in her body hurt and she couldn't summon up the energy to do more than lie there and regain her bearings.

By the time the first two marked units screeched to a halt at the curb, Joss had hoisted herself upright. She dusted off her jacket while a third joined in the pursuit for their suspect.

They'd better catch the damn bastard, he had ruined one of her favorite coats! She gingerly peeled back her jacket to inspect the damage. Globs of chocolate and cream cheese frosting dotted the front with a film of dust and grime layered on top of that; but the back had taken the brunt of the impact. A few shards of glass had managed to slice their way through the black wool when she landed on her back. Another sliver or two had found their way under her sweater, and the scratched skin felt as if it were on fire.

Two uniformed officers joined her and she badged them, explaining what had happened.

The higher ranking of the two, Officer Nelson, had his rookie partner take her statement while he radioed in for ambulances to treat the injured bystanders. Once she gave him a brief rundown they inspected the car, finding several empty whiskey bottles along with an unopened case of beer in the back seat.

Drunk driver it was; but after staring into those eyes up close Joss would have sworn he was stone cold sober. Remembering the look on his face gave her the chills. He'd looked determined, fixated on something and she had gotten in his way. Maybe he was aiming to kill himself and was mad that he had not succeeded.

Officer Nelson walked over to update them on what he'd learned by running the license plate. "Car came back as stolen. Boosted two days ago from a dealership over in the Bronx."

"Guess he got a little too careless in his joy riding - huh Detective?" the rookie, Davidson, shook his head at her.

"He looked a little old for that sort of thing." And that explanation didn't sit right with her.

This wasn't related to her case - was it?

Miranda Chamberlin was murdered in her apartment across town, Alexander Wetherby committed suicide out on Montauk after confessing to the murder and attack on her. That case was closed. Tonight was just… an accident.

The words fell flat, but this didn't appear to be anything other than her bad luck. Hanging around Finch and John too long was making her think otherwise.

"We'll find out in a minute," Nelson spoke up. "Here comes Powell and Duval, looks like they got someone in the back."

Joss craned her aching neck to get a better view as the third black and white maneuvered its way to the curb. Even in the glare of the flashing red and blue lights she could tell they'd lost him. The winded African-American male getting out of the back of the squad car was one of the Good Samaritans who chased after the driver. Joss watched him thank the patrolman for the ride back, then walk over to his family.

"We lost him in that abandoned warehouse complex over on Highline," the newest officer - Ernie Powell if she remembered right - called out as he plodded over to the group.

His partner, Tabitha Duval, started placing orange traffic cones out to block the street and clear a place for the tow truck that was making its way down the overcrowded street.

Joss recognized both officers as ones implicated in the HR roundup, but later cleared due to a lack of evidence.

"What are they doing here?" This wasn't their normal beat, but perhaps they'd been reassigned. The first of four ambulances finally pulled up to the scene.

"Detective Carter," Officer Duval acknowledged when she made her way over to the wreckage. "You workin' traffic these days?"

"Nope, just happened to be nearby and saw the accident," Joss answered calmly, not about to show how unnerved she was by the female officer's haughty tone. It had to be her imagination, but the chubby blonde was acting as though she knew exactly what had happened.

"Damn near killed her," the rookie threw in. "You sure you don't want a medic to look you over ma'am?"

Joss shook her head and waved away the offer. She did feel like the Caprice had run her over, but all she wanted to do now was go home and collapse on her bed. "I'm fine, but thank you."

"Okay then, thanks for the assist tonight."

"Not a problem. Call me if I can be of any further help." She nodded to all four officers and limped back to scoop up her dessert - or what was left of it after their collision with the brick wall - and her purse, amazingly still hidden behind the shrubbery. Joss threw the box in the sidewalk trash can and turned to scan her surroundings. The sensation of being watched was back, uncomfortable and choking.

Joss surveyed the scene around her: a news crew was there interviewing witnesses and setting up their cameras to get the most tragic angle possible for the late edition, the dwindling crowd was more interested in getting their fifteen minutes of fame and watching the police officers work.

No one seemed t be paying her any attention at all except for Duval and Powell. The two officers were leaning against the patrol car shooting the breeze and staring at her. Duval tipped her head in Joss' direction and Powell saluted with a smart ass grin.

A nervous tension coiled in her belly, colliding with the pain to make her nauseous. The immediate area was awash in light and a flurry of activity, but at the edges, where darkness fell, the shadows seemed deeper, concealing an unknown villain waiting to attack when she walked by.

Her damn imagination was working overtime tonight because she swore she saw the driver lounging against the opening an alley few blocks down. The alleyway she would have to walk past to get home. Joss rubbed a shaking hand over her bleary eyes and focused on that spot again, but he was gone.

Great, had she hit her head again? That would explain the hallucinations.

Tiny pellets of wet snow swirled around her as she debated calling a cab to take her home. She felt like hell and certainly didn't want to trudge six blocks in this weather, but she just spent the last of her cash on cupcakes.

There was the option of asking Davidson for a ride. He and Nelson were clean cops as far as she knew.

"Call John," her instincts urged over her mind's protests.

She felt weak just admitting it to herself, but she needed him. She was exhausted, hurt, scared, alone, and she wanted John by her side, no one else. Joss rifled through her purse for her burner phone, thankful she had tossed it in at the last second tonight.

But would it be better to call Fusco? Her partner would pick her up, no questions asked, but this was his first full weekend with Lee in six months. Lionel didn't get to see his son enough as it was, she wouldn't interrupt that for anything.

Well she could call Adam then, except he was probably at his parent's place already, cleaning up that mess. Besides what would he think about having to come to her 'rescue' again? One date did not mean he would want to get involved in her fight with HR or whatever this turned out to be.

Adam was out, but what about Finch? He had cars at his disposal all over the city, surely he would let her borrow one for the ten minute drive home. Knowing Harold like she did, he would have no problem sending a car for her, but she would bet her last dollar that John Reese would be her chauffeur.

Joss gnawed on her lower lip before flipping the phone open. It chaffed at her independent nature, but she knew what she needed to do…but this was it! Next time she got herself into trouble she was handling it all on her own.

Not surprisingly John answered on the first ring, however it was difficult to hear him over the noise in the background.

"Joss, are you okay?"

Static crackled across the line so she couldn't be sure, but it sounded like he was sitting in the middle of a jazz band.

Damn it, why didn't she think this through before dialing his number? She had assumed he would be available, but it was Saturday night after all. John might have plans for tonight, plans that didn't include walking her home in a mini snowstorm.

As much as she didn't want to think about it he obviously was not sitting by the phone waiting for her to call. He was probably working another case for Finch, or out on a date with her.

Hell, she was the one who told him he needed to live his own life, so she had no right being angry with him when he was out doing just that. Joss snuck a glance at the dark alleyway, empty of course. She should have taken her chances with her hallucinations.

"Joss?"

"I'm sorry John, I - I didn't mean to bother you. Sounds like you're busy, so I'll call you later."

"No, don't hang up!" The music on his end was fading as he moved to a quieter place…or had the call dropped?

She pulled her phone away from her ear to check the display. Sure enough, the call was still active, but if she were smart she would go ahead and push that red little button and pretend they had been disconnected.

Apparently she was in the mood to be foolish tonight since she continued to hold the line. In all honesty though what good would it do to hang up now? John knew something was up, and if she didn't stay on the phone he would just have Finch track her down until he found her.

But by that time she would be back in her warm apartment, safe and dry.

"Joss…with me? Joss?!"

"Uh yeah, I'm here John." She worried her bottom lip, unsure of how to start now that she had his undivided attention.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?" His words echoed softly, and Joss could picture him in a stairwell pacing nervously.

"I'm fine I promise, but there's been an accident." She walked down the block several feet to get away from the hubbub of activity around the car, careful to stay within sight of the crowd.

"I'm on my way, just tell me where you are."

Joss backed up to rest against the wall of a small beauty supply store where she watched the paramedics load up an elderly lady who had received a broken leg in all the chaos. Other EMTs had set up a triage station across the street, where they were treating patrons for injuries ranging from bumps and bruises to lacerations from the flying glass and debris. A second ambulance sped by with sirens whining, and she waited until it passed before responding.

"No really, I'll be fine John. I just needed to talk for a minute." Why she even bothered with her half-hearted denials was beyond her. Joss had known from the moment she dialed his number that he would drop what he was doing to be there for her…and deep down she wanted him there.

Normally the sound of his voice on the other end of the phone was all she needed to feel safe, but she was afraid that wouldn't be enough tonight - and she hated herself for it.

"Honey we can talk for as long as you need to after I get there. Please, tell me where you are."

"Outside Beagle's Bakery on 8th and Park." His tender endearment warmed her heart, and she felt a faint smile stretch her frozen lips.

"I'll be there…ten minutes. What exactly happened Joss?" John's voice was edged in steel and Joss knew she wouldn't be able to talk him into staying put this time, not that she was even going to try anymore.

Lively up tempo music was trickling through the line again, letting her know John was on the move. She should be wallowing in guilt, but it was relief flooding her instead. Perhaps he did intend to keep his promise this time around.

But if he was working for Harold tonight, someone else's life might be in danger, someone who needed his protection more than she did. She couldn't selfishly expect John to leave an innocent man or woman vulnerable and alone just because she was paranoid HR might be out to get her. He wasn't at her beck and call for the rare times she felt like having a bodyguard around.

"It's nothing really. A drunk driver stole a car and took it out for a joyride before he crashed through Beagle's front window." John's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line could be heard clearly over the shoddy reception.

"Are you hurt?" Each word was crisp with worry.

"No, I'm okay John." Her body would love to argue that point, but nothing was hurt that wouldn't heal in time.

"Thank God," he exhaled in a rush. "Keep talking to me Carter. You sound shaken, you sure….alright?"

Warmth seeped into her tired bones at the genuine concern she heard. John sounded like he cared about her rather than felt guilty about not preventing another accident.

"Actually I am a little. With everything that's happened over the last few weeks I -"

"John?" A voice cut through the shallow hum of the music. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Who was that?

It was difficult to tell with the garbled connection, but that was definitely a woman's voice on the other end. An ugly spark of jealousy flared to life and Joss blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"You know what, this was a mistake. I've got to get going, so I'll catch up with you later John. Sorry again to have bothered you."

"Joss…Do not …up…phone..."

Their spotty reception was going from bad to worse. Joss couldn't tell if it was due to the increasing snowfall or the downed power pole the driver managed to take out with the bakery window. Either way she planned to use it to her advantage.

"Carter can…me?!"

This had to be a sign, a bright flashing neon sign warning her away from this man for any reason other than working on the names Harold's source gave them. And being dazed after a near miss with a drunk driver was not related to that.

"John you're breaking up." A burst of white noise buzzed in her ear making her wonder if he could even hear her. "I'll call you later." .

With a shaky sigh she decided to power down and head home. No fairy godmother or knight in shining armor was going to come riding to her rescue; and if she stood there any longer she would turn into Frosty the Snowwoman.

A squawk out of the phone's speakers caught her attention, John's voice startling her with its clarity and pleading.

"Joss, I'm coming for you…wait for me…please."

Not that she had a response ready, but even if she did, she didn't get the chance to say anything before the line went dead.


"John?" Zoe's strident voice carried across the quiet alcove he'd settled in. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

He glanced over his shoulder to see Zoe weaving her way through harried waitresses and sweating bus boys hefting tubs full of dirty dishes. He cursed under his breath and moved towards the coat check stand, to collect his things and get the hell out of here.

"…was a mistake. I've…get going…catch up…later…Sorry…bothered you."

"Joss calling me was not a mistake, you know that. Do not hang up this phone, I'm on my way."

Nothing, not an angry retort or gentle reassurances that she was fine, just silence.

"Carter can you hear me?!"

Joss was in trouble and from the sound of things injured too. The fact that she still turned to him for help gave him hope that their relationship wasn't beyond repair…or at least it wasn't until Zoe ruined the moment. Joss was about to tell him something important, he was sure of it. But he couldn't dwell on that now.

Pops and cracks distorted her reply, all except for the last sentence. "I'll call you later."

No! John needed to keep this connection to his detective until he was physically with her. Rationally John knew he could not do anything from the other end of a phone; but if he could keep her talking he might not lose his mind on the drive over.

John turned his back on Zoe who was quickly gaining on him, and swallowed hard. The last time he tried to say these words the outcome was disastrous, but if it kept Joss from slipping away from him he would ask her a thousand times.

"Joss, I'm coming for you." The trip should take thirty minutes or longer, he was giving himself ten. "Wait for me…please."

Except for the angry breathing behind him and the music in the distance there was no other sound.

John looked at his phone and realized the call had finally dropped. Damn! Had she heard him at all or was this the airport all over again?

He wasn't waiting around this stuffy ballroom to find out. The clerk behind the large wooden desk glanced at the light blue ticket he held and scurried to the back to pull his coat. John turned to explain the change of plans only to find an irate Zoe trying to block his path.

"John? What are you doing out here? Katherine Fairchild is dying to meet you." Zoe's muddy brown eyes flashed fire as she stalked closer towards him, the sequins lining her skin-tight dress rustling with each clack of her high heels.

"Zoe -"

"No, I need you to make a good impression on that old bag so she'll hire me to clean up her grandson's Congressional campaign."

Tight lines of tension framed Zoe's flat smile as she gripped his elbow in an attempt to steer him back to the dance floor. "Edmund Fairchild is going to make me a very rich woman."

John pulled away from her grasp and crammed his phone back into his pocket. He didn't have time to meet some old society matron and pretend to be interested in her charity work for 'underprivileged' debutantes whose net worth was less than $500,000.

"I thought you turned that off." Zoe glowered at the pocket hiding his cell.

"No, I said Finch had agreed to call me only in an emergency." He wasn't going to turn his phone off again and chance missing another life or death call.

"And? What was so urgent that Harold couldn't wait until tomorrow to talk to you?" One perfectly sculpted brow rose to meet her hairline.

"That was Joss. There's been an accident." Why on earth was he wasting time justifying this to her?

"Another accident?" The question practically dripped with sarcasm.

"What happened this time? Break a nail on her handcuffs?" Zoe crossed her arms and fixed him with a look that said the last person she wanted to hear about tonight was Jocelyn Carter.

"All I know is a drunk driver plowed through the window of Beagle's Bakery. I'll find out more when I get there, but I have to go. Now."

"No, you don't need to go anywhere John. Detective Carter is a grown woman, surrounded no doubt, by other law enforcement professionals. They can take care of her if she can't do the job herself."

They were not having this fucking conversation now, or ever for that matter. If Joss needed him - needed anything - he would be there, simple as that. Zoe could either accept that or forget about seeing him again.

"And wipe that scowl off your face. You might look fabulous in a tux, but you've scared everyone away all evening."

John shook off her hand that was tucking itself into the crook of his arm. "Do you have a way home?"

"John you can't seriously be considering leaving."

"Do you have a way home?"

"What about our plans?" she wailed, loud enough that she drew the attention of a few staff members and wallflowers on the outskirts of the dance floor.

"Plans have changed Zoe. Call Finch if you need a ride home, he'll arrange a car." John distractedly patted her shoulder when she tried to draw him in for a long kiss, then left her standing there dismissed and fuming.

John could feel the daggers Zoe expertly aimed at his back, but he had no intention of returning to soothe her wounded pride. His primary focus was getting to Joss and he wasn't going to let anyone stand in his way.

He calmly collected his coat and walked out of the Plaza's Grand Ballroom. The valet had his car and keys waiting for him and John slid effortlessly into the driver's seat, speeding off towards 8th and Park to make up for lost time.

Breaking almost every New York City traffic law on the books, he pulled up to what was left of Beagle's window front nine minutes and forty-two seconds later. John spied a man in an apron standing off to the side with a policeman, one hand raking through his graying hair the other gesturing wildly towards an older model Chevy Caprice being hauled up onto a tow truck.

His heart lurched at the mess left in its wake. Crumbled bricks, broken boards, nails, glass shards, tables and chairs, customer's personal belongings all littered the sidewalk . Joss had assured him she was alright, but if she was standing anywhere near the window she could have been seriously injured - or killed - again.

So where the hell was she? He didn't like playing this fucking game now anymore than he had when she went missing from her hospital room last week.

Had she decided to walk home after all?

John surveyed the damage again, still seeing no sign of Joss. The snow was falling heavily now and he didn't want her out in the cold by herself. When he talked to her last she had sounded dazed, tired, not in any shape to be out walking in this weather. He glanced around one more time to make sure he had not missed her before he set off for her apartment.

The lone ambulance on scene started the sirens as it pulled away from the curb, and that's when he saw her: shivering against the red brick wall of a beauty supply store, glancing nervously down the street every few seconds. She looked frightened, not a word he would ever associate with Jocelyn Carter.

His groan of relief escaped in a visible puff of breath as he picked his way around the police tape and emergency personnel to get to her. Neither said a word when he stopped in front of her, and John didn't think twice, just took her in his arms and held her close.

John felt her relax against him immediately, but her quiet hiss of pain was not lost on him. He moved to release her and check for injuries, but Joss shook her head and squeezed him even tighter. They stood that way for several moments, quietly soaking in the warmth and comfort the other freely offered.

"Are you okay?" John whispered against her temple, not trusting himself to say more.

"I am, I promise."

Her guarantee might have been more believable if he couldn't see glittering specks of glass and dust clinging to her dark hair, or feel the small knot forming on the back of her head, which was now cradled in his palms.

As much as he didn't want to, John forced himself to step back just far enough to examine her for any further injuries.

Tiny scratches dotted her pale cheeks, her beautiful brown eyes were even darker with fatigue, she was clearly favoring her right side, and her coat hung in tatters around her tense shoulders.

Joss glanced away first and reached between them to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. His gaze zeroed in on the angry red abrasions streaking across her palm.

"Can't say the same for my cupcakes though." She bit her lip and cast a rueful look down at the shredded black wool.

So that's what the mud and cream-colored stains splattered against her jacket were. He could care less about the dessert, as long as she was unharmed. Anything else could easily be replaced, but there was only one Joss.

"As long as you're okay Joss. That's all that matters to me." John knew he was dangerously close to betraying his feelings for the woman in his arms, but he couldn't keep from touching her.

His hands slid from her hair to cup her neck and draw her forehead to his. "We've got to stop doing this. I'm not sure how much more my heart can take."

A delicate rush of breath skimmed his lips with her nervous laugh. John felt her nose brush against his as she nodded her agreement. "I know what you mean."

John picked up on the shudders wracking her petite frame and suspected the below average temperatures weren't solely to blame. Before she could raise any objections, he shrugged out of his own winter coat and wrapped it snugly around her.

"Why don't we get you home and see what we can do about that sweet tooth?" he suggested.

"Thanks." Joss's soft smile wobbled and she folded her arms around her torso with a fortifying breath. Alarmed, he hugged her to him again.

"You sure you're alright?" All she had to do was say the word and he would have Dr. Tillman make a house call.

John rolled his eyes when he felt her head bob against his chest. The woman was too damn stubborn for her own good; but if she wanted to pretend she wasn't hurt that was fine. It just meant he would be playing the part of doctor and protector tonight.

"Can you leave?" He honestly didn't care if she could or not, he was getting her out of there.

"Yeah. I gave my statement already."

"And what was that?" he asked, leading her across the street to his car.

"I was walking back to my apartment after grabbing a quick bite to eat. Heard tires squealing and jumped out of the way right before he crashed through the bakery window."

"What were you doing out here alone? Where the hell was Adam?" John kept his questions to himself and pressed her closer to his side.

"I tried to arrest the driver, but he fled the scene. Uniforms arrived seconds after that and gave chase, but came up empty-handed."

Finch wouldn't come up empty-handed. This punk would pay for almost running over her, accident or no.

"And before you go all vigilante on me John," she paused to give him a sideways look, "it was just an accident. We found empty liquor bottles and a case of beer in the back seat. Add to that the slick roads and the fact that the car was stolen a couple of days ago, and it's just one of the hundreds of accidents that happen in this city every day."

Despite her words to the contrary, Joss had her doubts. He could tell by the lack of confidence in her voice and the way her muscles tensed under his arm.

"I'm not taking any chances Joss."

They made it back to the Veyron and he reluctantly let her go to help her into the passenger seat before hustling around to slip behind the wheel.

Thanks to clearing traffic and a short cut, they were back to Carter's apartment in five minutes. Reese assisted her out of the car and kept his arm around her as they entered the building and plodded up all three flights of stairs.

When they stopped in front of her door, Joss fumbled through her purse hunting for her key; but John quickly fished out his spare instead. He motioned for her to stay in the hallway while he took a look around.

Joss was clearly skeptical about his precautions, but kept quiet and waited in the foyer while he cleared every room, his weapon out and by his side.

"Find anything John?" She asked when he came back and locked the door behind them. Joss knew he hadn't, but apparently couldn't hold herself back from needling him about his overprotective attitude.

He didn't care if she spent the rest of the night laughing at him. Tonight might have been a random accident, but he wasn't going to rely on maybes when it came to her safety.

She moved past him to stand by the couch, an awkward silence trailing into the apartment after them.

"Thanks for bringing me home," she said quietly, her eyes trained on his shoes.

"And here comes the brush off." But John wasn't in the mood to hear it. He was tired of her pulling away from him every time they got even remotely close physically or emotionally. How long would it take her to realize just how much she meant to him?

"I will always come for you Joss. Anytime. You know that."

Her slight smile and the faint blush stealing across her cheeks told him she did, even more than her soft "I do."

He wasn't completely oblivious, John could read the lingering doubt in her gaze; but he was willing to keep working to win back her complete trust. It was his fault they had grown apart after their ordeal with Kara. His fault, and he would do whatever it took to fix it.

"Why don't you go take a shower and I'll get things started out here?"

Definitely the wrong thing to say. His words brought to life images of a naked Joss under a spray of hot water, soapy bubbles cascading down her caramel colored skin.

Suddenly his hands were joining hers, roaming over the peaks and valleys of her body before carrying her out of the shower to what looked like his loft.

Oh yeah, John liked where this was headed. He'd had this dream last night and -

"John?"

"Yeah Carter?" Judging by the look on her face, she had called his name several times. He turned away from her in the hopes of hiding his growing arousal. "Did you need some help?"

"Well hell." Apparently it was 'open mouth, insert foot' night around here. That foolish offer did nothing to cool off his overheated body.

What was he going to do if she actually said yes? John doubted his self-control could endure that much temptation.

"No I - I uh, just didn't realize you were staying."

"I'm staying." She wasn't going to get rid of him that easily. "So go, do what you need to do."

Joss must have been worn out, because she merely nodded and walked back to her bedroom to do as he asked. If he wasn't so concerned about her he might have called after her with a clever remark or two about celebrating such a momentous occasion.

Once he heard the shower running John shucked off his jacket and bow tie then rolled up his sleeves and made his way to her small kitchen. Making dessert for her would hopefully be enough to keep his mind from engaging in naughty fantasies about what she was doing behind those closed doors.

He immediately noticed the two coffee mugs sitting on the counter, still warm to the touch. The implications were clear, but John couldn't focus on that right now. He couldn't think about what might have happened while that son of a bitch was alone with Joss in her apartment tonight, or he would end up putting his fist through the wall.

John jerked the refrigerator door open to grab the milk carton and a few other cold ingredients he needed, then scoured her pantry for the rest, making a mental note to pick up a new bottle of vanilla for her from a specialty store he had discovered a few months ago.

Arms loaded down, John dumped it all on the counter to dig out several mixing bowls from the cabinets underneath. It had been several months since he had last cooked in Joss' kitchen, but everything was exactly where he remembered.

He shook off the bittersweet memories of that night and set out making a modified version of his beignets recipe for her, complete with a healthy sprinkling of powdered sugar and café au lait dip.

An hour later just as he was taking the last batch out of the oven, John heard her bedroom door squeak open. Soft footsteps padded down the hallway's wooden floors and stopped in the entrance to the kitchen. He turned around to let her know dessert was ready, but froze, unprepared for the sight of the goddess before him.

Beautiful didn't even begin to describe Joss. Her rich dark hair flowed around her shoulders and the subtle hints of coconut in her shampoo teased his senses. Her delicate face, devoid of make-up, glowed with a healthy radiance that allowed the honeyed undertones in her skin to shine through.

She was dressed in nothing more than her worn Army t-shirt and a pair of dark grey capri sweat pants; but as she stood there in her bare feet surveying her kitchen, John didn't think he had ever seen a more stunning woman in his life. Those high society ladies at the fundraiser tonight with their designer gowns and sparkling jewels didn't stand a chance next to her

Heat from the forgotten baking sheet seeped through the oven mitt, singing his finger tips. He quickly set it aside before he spilled his hard work all over the floor.

"John are those what I think they are?" Joss seemed oblivious to his growing desire and stepped towards him with a shy smile.

"Well it's not a Beagle's cupcake Detective, but I think you'll enjoy it." He forced himself to turn away and start dusting the doughnuts with powdered sugar instead of drooling over his partner.

There was no stopping his imagination though from daydreaming about how much he would enjoy feeding her dessert bite by bite, then kissing away any trace of sugar from her full lips.

"They smell delicious, but you shouldn't have gone to all the trouble."

Joss joined him at the stove to watch him work, then opened the glass cabinet where her dishes were housed. She stood on her tiptoes to reach the smaller cake plates on the middle shelf, a movement that had her smaller body innocently brushing up against his.

"No trouble at all." He needed to get a hold of himself before he ended up taking her right there against her black and white tiled counter.

"I figured it was time I made my award-winning beignets for you - you've finally earned it."

"Award-winning huh?" Joss winked at him as she started a fresh pot of coffee in her finicky machine. "I'll be the judge of that."

With lightening quick reflexes, she leaned across his arm to snatch the first one she could reach and took a hearty bite.

"Oh my."

Her breathy moan of appreciation only served to strengthen his need for her and he took several steps forward, about to box her in and kiss her senseless, before his conscience caught up with him. Joss was almost run over tonight, she didn't need him pawing at her on top of that.

"This is fantastic John." The tip of her pink tongue snaked out to lick a bit of powdered sugar off her lower lip.

"I don't know why you're so surprised Carter." When had his voice gotten so hoarse?

"I thought I'd demonstrated my considerable prowess in the kitchen by winning our little contest last fall."

A suspicious grunt cut him off. "Yeah, that 'win' is still in question in my book. I wouldn't put it past you to try to pull a fast one on me."

"Your words wound Joss." He tried to keep a straight face as he set a beignet on each of the two plates. "But I tell you what, if you really feel you were cheated let's do it again - say cheesecake this time?"

Joss grabbed the two full coffee mugs and jerked her head towards the living room. John dutifully followed and they settled on the couch in front of the TV.

"You sure your pride could stand to take the beating I'd deliver? I do have a mean cheesecake recipe."

"Bring it on woman."

Joss didn't accept or decline his challenge, but picked up the remote to turn on the flat screen set. After a few minutes of silently surfing through the channels she brought up a subject he was hoping to avoid.

"Nice tux by the way. Chasing down someone rich and famous this time?"

God, how easy would it be to just say yes, but he didn't want anymore lies between them. Besides it was just a political fundraiser with Zoe, nothing more - even if he had stayed for the entire party.

"Nothing that dramatic I'm afraid. I was at a very boring fundraiser for City Councilman Rogers with Zoe Morgan."

The name probably wouldn't mean anything to Joss. As far as he knew the women had only met once and Joss thankfully never mentioned her after the Far Rockaway case.

Zoe's introduction that night still aggravated him. She hadn't been his first choice to play the part of his wife, but he couldn't reach Carter in time. Finch had thought Zoe was more suitable for the role and could help him remain inconspicuous. Reese suspected the real reason had more to do with Harold's mistrust of Joss at the time.

"Oh."

John was ready to kick his own ass at the crestfallen expression on her face. Maybe he should have told her a little white lie after all, but why did this bother her so much?

"Sorry I interrupted your date with your wife. I'm fine so you can go…"

He set his cup down on the coffee table and took her hand in his, not letting her ease away from him this time. They needed to clear up some things between them, starting with this.

"No I do not need to go anywhere Joss. As far as I'm concerned I am right where I should be…where I want to be."

What was it going to take for this woman to finally see how much she meant to him? Normally he was a patient man, able to logically work through a problem until he solved it; but Joss was another story. Patience was not a virtue he had when it came to her.

"Where you want to be?" He hated the wariness in her tone.

"Yes where I want to be. You're important to me Joss." Maybe hearing the words would reinforce what he was trying to show with his actions.

John watched the battle of powerful emotions taking place in her luminous brown eyes. Confusion, hurt, suspicion, desire and love all clashed with no clear winner.

"Okay then," she whispered, seemingly satisfied with his answer for now.

Joss didn't trust him, that was plain to see; but he would take what he could get and earn her faith back each time an opportunity presented itself.

They had all the time in the world, he wasn't going anywhere.

"Soo," she drew him out of his reverie with a gesture of the remote. "What do you want to watch?"

"Let's see what's on." John quietly suggested. He was content to keep her hand in his, but let her pull it back to her lap as she scrolled through the on-screen guide.

Joss stopped at the classic movie channel, one of her favorites; and he blinked twice at the title of the movie coming on next, sure he was reading it wrong. It couldn't be, yet it was and John almost laughed out loud.

'Love Crazy', a black and white screwball comedy with William Powell and Myrna Loy, was starting. What an appropriate title for his life of late. Funny how art imitates life…or was it life imitates art? He never could get that right.

"Good choice Carter. I couldn't hear anything they were saying the last time we tried to watch it."

"Well John that could be because you were snoring less than five minutes after the movie started. I couldn't hear anything after that either, thank you very much." She rolled her eyes and tossed a small throw pillow at him.

There was his Joss. Reese shoved the pillow behind him and raised his voice over the opening credits.

"I was exhausted woman! You try protecting a stamp collector at a convention full of other 'stamp enthusiasts' all fighting over a 1919 Upside Down Jenny."

"It was an Inverted Jenny from 1918 John, and I was there too remember? Keeping Mr. Cassidy entertained and learning way more than I ever wanted to about phila…philal…"

"Philately Joss. Didn't learn as much as you thought huh?"

He easily caught the next pillow she launched at him.

"As I recall, our Mr. Cassidy really took a shine to you that weekend. How'd that work out between you two?"

Joss skewered him with her best glare, but that did nothing to discourage John from continuing. "Did you at least let him down gently?"

"Shut up and watch the movie." She slung her last pillow at him and turned back to the TV, but not before he saw a smile tilt her lips.

John smirked with pride at that, then focused his attention back on the happily married couple celebrating their wedding anniversary. He knew that as the story unfolded misunderstandings and outside forces would try and keep them apart; but in the end - in true Hollywood fashion - they would be reunited and live happily ever after.

If only it were that easy in real life.

Beside him Joss shifted against the cushions to grab the blanket strewn across the back of the sofa. John turned to drape it over her when he saw the pained grimace she was trying to hide. Obviously she had hurt herself tonight, and it was more than a few bumps and bruises.

"Let me see Joss." He laid a hand on her thigh and held the beige throw just out of reach.

"See what John?"

Oh she knew exactly what he was talking about, but she should also know better than to try to stonewall him.

"Do you really want to go there with me Carter?" He chose to keep quiet and speared her with a look that all but warned her of his intention to wait her out on this. She could dig in her heels all she wanted, but he would win in the end.

"I'm fine John," she relented. "Nothing to worry about" Which worried him all the more.

"Then you won't have a problem if I take a quick peek." Even he didn't put up this much of a fight when she patched him up after some of the rougher numbers.

"Fine," she huffed, clearly irritated. "But just a quick peek. That's all."

"Scout's honor Joss." John held up his right hand, giving her a salute that was a cross between the Boy Scout's gesture and a Star Trek greeting.

"You were never in the Boy Scouts were you?" She eyed his hand dubiously.

"No, but I'm always prepared."

She huffed again, this time with more laughter than exasperation, and gripped the hem of her shirt.

"There are just a couple on my back from when he knocked me down."

John barely made out what Joss was saying over the thrum of blood rushing to his brain. Every cell in his body was focused on the smooth caramel skin she was slowly revealing, inch by torturous inch.

His heart stopped when an abrasion several inches long and surrounded by fresh bruises came into view.

"What happened?" The cut wasn't deep, but she would be feeling it for the next week or so.

John couldn't keep his hands to himself any longer, and took over holding her shirt in place so he could inspect her wound more closely. He lightly traced the outline of the gash before feathering his fingertips over the bruises on her ribcage left by her near death experience last week. Judging by the angry purple streak on her right side, she had aggravated that injury tonight as well.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He raised his eyes to meet hers, a hand still on the warm skin of her backside.

"No," she answered automatically.

"Joss."

"Just a few more scrapes here and there and some sore muscles John. Nothing major I promise."

"Where?" The question came out harsher than he intended.

Heaving a sigh, Joss pulled up her pant leg to reveal a small rectangular scrape on the back of her calf. Just as before he tentatively reached out to touch the scratch. She was right of course, it wasn't anything serious, but the mark on her back worried him. It was in an awkward place and would be hard for her to take care of - but he was more than willing to help out with that.

She rolled the fabric back in place. "See? Nothing to worry about Mother Hen."

Mother Hen? Joss had yet to see the full extent of his care giving skills - which gave him an idea. She had mentioned muscle aches earlier, and he had the perfect remedy. If he had to guess…

John gripped her shoulders and with both hands proceeded to softly knead the tight muscles, careful to work around her injuries.

"Oh John." Her head lolled to one side as an appreciative moan slipped out.

Her rose scented skin warmed instantly under his touch and John felt the tension melting away with each pass of his fingertips. Another hum of contentment brought a smile to his face that he couldn't hide if even he wanted to.

He was certain Joss didn't mean to sound so seductive, but her throaty murmurs were driving him to distraction anyway.

Unaware of his mounting desire for her, Joss nestled further into his arms as if seeking the same comfort he was.

Instinctively his body responded to her nearness, and he ached to pull her fully against him and kiss her until he forgot the terror he felt tonight when he thought he had lost her again.

Fresh out of the shower, warm, drowsy, and safe in his arms, she was temptation incarnate. He couldn't ask for more at this point.

John scraped her hair up in a quick bun and held it with his right hand while he used the thumb and forefinger of his left to squeeze and manipulate the muscles of her graceful neck.

"That feels sooo good. Where on earth did you learn to do this?" Joss tilted her head forward to give him better access.

"I'm a man of many talents Detective." He continued to work on the kinks, bothered by the small knot at the base of her skull. The slight swelling would go down in a day or two, but it would bear some watching.

"You sure you feel okay Joss?" his voice was gruff, thick with longing and tenderness.

"I'm - oh yeah, that's the spot," she groaned when he released her hair to rake his hands across her scalp in a slow massage. "I'm fine so don't you dare stop."

"I won't stop, not until you say so," he promised.

She mumbled a smart-aleck comment questioning his stamina then collapsed against his chest, completely limp and relaxed.

That was the last straw, the weak grip he had on his self-control crumbled and John couldn't hold himself back any longer. He let his fingers slide through her silken hair once more before pulling it aside, baring her neck to his greedy gaze.

Just one taste, he vowed, one small sample to find out if she tasted as sweet as he imagined she would and then he could go back to waiting for the right time to press the issue of her feelings for him. He leaned forward and allowed himself the indulgence of breathing in her soft, clean scent before his lips grazed the same path his fingers had worked moments before.

Awareness crackled in the air around them, and John heard her quick intake of breath as he planted a hot open mouthed kiss on the sensitive pulse point under her ear. His left hand stroked its way down her arm to clutch her waist and draw her fully onto his lap; but it was his turn to groan in pleasure when his palm came into contact with the bare skin her t-shirt had missed.

John smiled at the tremors running through the muscles underneath his hand. Thank God he wasn't the only one feeling overwhelmed. If her breathless gasps were any indication, Joss was just as turned on as he was.

And she was making it extremely difficult for him to keep his promise of stopping at one kiss, especially when she shifted against him and her generous backside brushed against his rapidly growing erection. "Damn, no hiding that now."

Joss exhaled roughly and rested her cheek against his forehead. "John," she panted.

The enticement she offered was too great to resist so he nuzzled his lips along her jawline until he felt her small hand cover his larger one. She pressed it against her feverish skin for several heartbeats before sliding off his lap and back to the safety of her side of the couch, although not as much space separated them as before.

"Thank you," she whispered shyly.

Reese scarcely heard her over the pounding in his ears. His body screamed in protest at her retreat; but one look at her wide brown eyes and he knew why she pulled away - Joss was scared.

Whether she was afraid of her feelings for him or possibly afraid she had betrayed Adam in some way, he couldn't be sure; but he knew he didn't want to add to it.

"The - uh - the movie." Joss gestured to the flat screen set without truly meeting his eyes.

Yeah, the movie. There wasn't a chance in hell of watching it now. John took one last look at Joss, watched as she shove a chunk of hair behind her ear and stared straight ahead, clutching the blanket to her chest.

He could feel her misgivings settle between them like an uninvited third party. Was she worried he would disappear again after the intimacy they'd just shared?

Running away was the furthest thing from his mind, it was not even an option for him now. But running after her? That was a very entertaining idea, considering how she had chased after him for the first six months or so of their relationship. He could show her how it was really done.

John reached out and tugged her hand into his and interlaced their fingers to let their palms touch. Joss showed no outward reaction, but he was encouraged when she returned his light squeeze.

If she needed time then that's what he would give her. He was a patient man, he could wait as long as it took to rebuild her trust. But he wouldn't sit idly by and watch another man take what was his.

No, he was going to launch a carefully planned assault to win her heart…and he was going to get his kiss, when the time was right, and fear was the last thing on her mind.

John eased back into the cushions and tried to focus on the movie while stroking his thumb slowly across Joss' knuckles.


His eyes reluctantly drifted open and senses - dulled with sleep - were trying to identify what had pulled them out of such a comfortable slumber.

John felt a heavy weight on top of him and smiled when he looked down to find Joss' dark head snuggled against his chest.

Sometime in the last - he checked his watch - two and a half hours they had fallen asleep holding hands. He hadn't intended to sleep at all. He was here to comfort Joss and protect her, but he must have been more tired than he realized.

"It would be a shame to wake her now," John thought, content to hold her until morning.

The movie was long over, and an infomercial for exercise equipment had taken its place. Shifting slightly to take more of her weight, he repositioned Joss so she wouldn't wake up with a crick in her neck.

John was looking forward to waking up in a few more hours with her in his arms. Finally he would know what it was like to watch her eyes lighten with awareness, hear her voice husky with sleep whisper his name, see her shy smile first thing in the morning.

He kissed the small scar at her temple and closed his eyes to relish the sensation of falling asleep with her in his arms when he heard it.- a small clink followed by a muffled slam. John tensed, wondering how anybody could have slipped past him.

It was probably Taylor, but after the night they'd had he wasn't going to risk it. John eased Joss back against the cushions and rolled to his feet, grabbing his gun from the coffee table in one fluid movement.

Plans for disarming the intruder and keeping Joss out of harm's way cleared the cobwebs away as he stalked silently to the kitchen, ready for a confrontation.

Keeping his gun ready at his side, John risked a quick glance around the doorway when he hard another clink and came face to face with the 'intruder'…Taylor, piling several beignets onto a large plate.

John tucked his SIG into the waistband at the small of his back and stepped into the kitchen. Taylor turned around at the same moment and started, the spoon he was using clattered against the counter.

"Easy Taylor." John placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Mr. Reese? What are you doing here?"

John stepped back to lean against the counter and rub a hand over his tired eyes. He wasn't sure how much Joss would want to tell Taylor about her accident tonight, and he didn't want to overstep his bounds.

"I'm just checking on your mom. What are you doing home so early?"

Taylor placed the dish in the sink and ran some soapy water over it. The tic in his jaw let John know something was weighing on the younger man's mind. He didn't have to wait long to find out what.

"I live here, and you didn't really answer my question John - what are you doing here?"

He knew what Taylor wanted to know, but how could he explain it to the teenager when he barely understood it himself…not to mention he had yet to tell Joss how he felt.

"It's complicated Taylor; but I'm here to keep you and your mom safe."

"And then what?"

"What do you mean T?"

John had a sinking feeling that the son was feeling just as abandoned as his mother was; and he had every right to. He had stopped coming to Taylor's basketball games and cancelled their self-defense lessons. After his own near death experience he had cut off all contact with Joss' son, sure that was the only way to keep him out of harm's way.

"After we're safe, then what? You leave again without any kind of explanation? Just back to the Bat Cave until next time when it's too late?"

"No Taylor, it's not like that. I'm not leaving either of you again, you have my word."

The teen was silent, his disbelief bringing home the ramifications of decisions John made all those weeks ago. He had done what he thought was best, but apparently it wasn't.

"What about my mom?" Taylor broke the tense silence creeping in to the kitchen.

"I promise you, I won't walk out on her son -"

"No, what are your intentions towards her?"

None of the responses that first came to mind seemed appropriate to share. "You know we're friends, I want to protect her. That's all." .

"Friends?" Taylor scoffed. "Is that what the old folks are calling it these days?"

Reese didn't have an answer ready for that. He was shocked at the fierce anger in Taylor's question.

"It looked like more than that to me. I mean you two were cuddled up awfully close, and I know for a fact my mom would kill me if I let any of my female friends sleep on top of me like that."

Good point. John wasn't about to reveal the reason for his visit tonight, but he needed to give Taylor something.

"It's -"

"Let me guess, complicated." T took the words right out of his mouth as he turned back to face the sink. John waited patiently, knowing he wasn't finished.

"Maybe I can un-complicate it for you Mr. Reese." The young man of the house turned back to face him and John swore he saw tears glistening in his dark eyes.

"My mom is one of the strongest women I know. She's survived tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, kept us going after my dad died, raised me to be a responsible young man, put herself through law school, and then went back to the Academy to become a police officer and make a difference. She risks her life to help the people everyone else overlooks and never complains about being hurt or tired."

Taylor paused for a breath and John stayed quiet, dreading what was coming next.

"She works twelve to sixteen hours a day, but finds the time for me and all the stuff I've got going on. She's an amazing woman, but after you left - I don't know what happened. She just started shutting down."

John closed his eyes, remembering all too well what his absence had done to Joss. What it had done to him.

"She still worked long hours and made time for me; but she was different…like she was just going through the motions. I thought maybe you guys had had a bad fight or she had broken up with Cal - but it was pretty obvious when he was still here but you weren't."

"I was here," John wanted to argue; but Taylor was right. Watching over them from the shadows, being on the outside looking in wasn't the same at all.

"You hurt my mom Mr. Reese." Each word lashed at his heart.

"She wasn't eating, or sleeping much - and when she did try I could hear her crying herself to sleep sometimes. I don't know if she could go through you leaving like that again."

There was something so final in the young man's voice that disturbed John. "What are you saying T?"

"I'm saying that my mom is coming back, my real mom. I know it's only been two weeks since the accident, but she seems like her old self again - laughing, teasing me, eating and sleeping more. She's getting that sparkle back in her eyes." He took a deep breath as if unsure or unwilling to say what he needed to next.

"She's better now and she's got a great guy who's interested in her. I think she really likes him."

John's heart twisted, crushed by Taylor's observation. He wanted to tell the boy it didn't matter if Adam was Mr. Universe, there was no way he was letting them go.

"Maybe it would be best if you stopped coming around…don't take a chance on messing that up." Taylor finished, eyes downcast and focused on the laces of his Nikes.

Stop coming around? Not a chance in hell. He made that mistake once, and wasn't going to do it again.

"Is that what you want?" He needed to know how Taylor felt. He was important to John and his trust needed to be earned back just as much as his mother's did.

"No." The quiet confirmation buoyed John's hopes of fixing this mess.

"Taylor." When the boy still wouldn't look at him, John laid a hand on his shoulder and waited. "I never wanted to hurt you or your mom, and I'm more sorry than I can ever say that I did."

Taylor nodded and John's heart tripped over itself when he saw tears gathering in his bright eyes.

"I thought staying away would keep you both safe from the people in my past, but that did more harm than good. It might not mean much now, but you have my word that I will be here for you."

A healthy dose of skepticism crowded his features, but he nodded in acceptance. The two men stood in the quiet kitchen, listening to the hum of the fridge, lost in their thoughts for several moments before Taylor pushed back to grab his snack.

"Mom wants to try to make it to the early service tomorrow, so I'd better get to sleep." John nodded and followed him out into the living room. "Good night John."

"Night Taylor." He squeezed his shoulder and watched him disappear down the hall to his room.

John eased back onto the sofa near Joss' hip with a sigh. She was curled onto her left side facing him, her body relaxed in sleep. She was utterly alluring and from the slight smile on her lips he could tell she was having a good dream and not another nightmare.

There were a number of things he could think of that would cause him to smile like that in his sleep. Surprisingly only a few of them involved both of them being naked.

Oh he wanted to have sex with her, he was well past denying that; but now he craved more than just a physical relationship.

Carter was a lady and deserved to be treated like one. She wasn't built for a friends with benefits relationship, and at this point John didn't think he was either. He was already emotionally involved, and scared to death by it.

He would lay down his life for her or Taylor without hesitation, but that was just it. The possibility of losing one or both of them was very real, and John didn't think he could survive that.

Joss had the power to bring him to his knees, yet she didn't seem to realize the influence she held over him. She could say things to him that no one else would be able to get away with, and only she could drive him to the height of anger, then pacify him with little more than her smile.

He was wrapped neatly around this woman's little finger, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Getting her call about the accident, not knowing if he would make it in time or what he would find when he got there compelled him to take a chance and bravely say the words to Joss he didn't say to Jess in time.

He had dropped everything - Zoe, the chance to mingle with the city's rich and well-connected, the guarantee of a pleasurable after-party back at her place - for Joss. He didn't care about any of it, only that he reached her in time.

After tonight he couldn't run from the truth any longer. The fear of losing her forced him to name the emotion that had been quietly making itself at home in his heart for some time.

He, John Reese, vigilante, CIA assassin, man with no future, risk taker and rule breaker extraordinaire loved Jocelyn Carter.

He loved her, but was in no way worthy of her love in return. She deserved someone like him.

Jealousy smoldered in his gut; but he was man enough to admit Adam was perfect for Joss….but what if imperfect was better?

John felt he was an expert on all things related to Joss - he knew that she was named after her paternal great-grandmother, that she bit her left thumbnail when she was deep in thought, and got overly sentimental around the holidays. She would choose sweet over salty any day, wanted to see the Northern Lights in person, vacation in Bora Bora, and was saving up to buy a home of her own someday.

His Detective kept a secret stash of science-fiction novels in her bedroom closet, loathed the color orange, had a healthy respect for heights, broke her leg in the seventh grade and couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Joss was a dancing fool who turned into a grizzly bear if she didn't get coffee and food first thing in the morning, and most importantly she loved him.

But after everything he'd done, did he have the right to fight for her? Should he even mention his feelings? Joss had no clue that he knew how she felt, so he could continue to be there for her as a friend and watch those feelings fade if given enough time and no hope of reciprocation.

And as self-centered as it sounded, he would be spared the agony of losing her or Taylor when he did something stupid or his past caught up with him again. Kara was just the first in a long line of enemies looking for revenge, and they would not hesitate to use the people he cared about most to draw him out.

Joss and Taylor would be safer without him endangering their lives; be could he honestly sit by and watch the woman he loved fall out of love with him and in with another man?

Last night had proven that option would be disastrous, not to mention hazardous for the other man's health.

John raked a hand through his hair and groaned. He was a selfish bastard, but he wanted it all. And he could have it all - the woman he loved, a son, loyal friends, a purpose - which might lead to losing it all.

He had a tough decision to make: go after what he wanted and be happy and possibly lose everything he held dear…or he could let her slip through his fingers and play it safe, living out the rest of his days risk free, never having to experience the excruciating loss of someone he loved again.

But wouldn't that still be losing her?

Reese dropped his head into his hands. He was dog-tired and in no shape to try to make any sort of life changing decision tonight. For now it would be best to stay quiet a little longer and give himself - and Joss - more time to figure out how to move forward.

In the meantime Joss needed to get in bed, a real one. She was going to be sore enough in the morning thanks to the acrobatic moves she likely went through to avoid being crushed by that drunk driver.

John effortlessly scooped her up and carried her down the hall to her bedroom. His heart skipped more than one beat when she snuggled into him, her nose grazing the sensitive skin on the underside of his chin.

Over the last two years he had been in Joss' bedroom several times, but tonight felt different, more intimate being there with her in his arms. He toed the door open, walked carefully over to the bed and swept the covers aside before smoothly depositing her on the mattress. Joss promptly curled onto her side, leaving more than enough space for him to join her and sleep comfortably the remainder of the night.

The longing to climb in after her was overpowering, but things would get awkward quickly when she was fully awake in the morning…and he didn't trust himself to keep his hands and lips off of her, injured or not.

Which reminded him…John crept to the adjoining bathroom and easily located the first aid supplies he would need. Now all he had to do was figure out how to treat those cuts without waking her up.

As carefully as he could, John applied antibacterial ointment and bandages to the scratches on her leg and arm, without disturbing her then sat back on his heels.

Common sense told him to leave the one on her back alone, but it had been a long while since he listened to his reasonable side. Besides it was in an awkward spot that would be hard for her to reach, so who else was she going to ask for help? Her mom wouldn't be back for weeks and Joss wouldn't want Taylor to worry. He couldn't see her letting Finch or Fusco get that close, so that left him….or possibly Adam.

He'd be damned if he was going to leave it for everybody's favorite hero to take care of.

Thankfully she was lying on her left side so he didn't jostle her too much when he raised the hem of her shirt to treat the scrape. Ignoring the sight of the underside of her breast he'd unintentionally revealed, John picked up the ointment and applied a small dose to his finger before rubbing it gently across the cut.

Unlike before, the medicine's sting caused her to stir and shift against his hands. John stopped and sat down on the bed next to her, ready to explain what he was doing; but one look told him she wasn't awake.

"Shhh, you're okay. I've got you angel." John swept a lock of hair behind her ear and continued murmuring reassurances until he felt her sink back against her pillow.

He quickly applied the last bandage, but didn't pull her top down right away. Instead he ran shaking fingers over her torso, taking note of the faded bruising in the soft moonlight.

Nothing felt broken or out of place, but Joss was certainly going to be sore for the next few days. John skimmed his palms down her sides one last time before he put her clothing back in place and covered her with several layers of blankets. After making sure the covers were snug he placed a light kiss on her temple.

"Sweet dreams Joss." His low voice sounded loud in her bedroom's quiet confines.

John turned back to secure her apartment for the night, comforted with the knowledge that he wouldn't be far if she needed him.

"John?" Her voice was little more than a mumble, but filled with pleasure and surprise. He stopped, one hand on the window locks, and glanced back to the bed.

No, she definitely wasn't having a nightmare, not with a smile like that. What in the world was she dreaming about?

A desperate need to see her face when she called out for him urged his feet forward. The decent thing would be to walk away and respect her privacy, but the badass in him wouldn't allow it.

"I'm here Joss." He hovered over the bed and lightly thumbed her delicate cheekbone.

She hummed his name again and a surge of manly pride plastered a self-satisfied grin across his face. Joss mumbled more into a lumpy body pillow next to her, but he swore he heard 'love to dance' before the even breathing of a deep sleep overtook her.

So she wanted to dance with him huh? He would make sure that happened. Soon.

John retreated to the kitchen and spent a few more minutes washing dishes and wiping down the counters, then made sure the apartment was locked tight before he returned to the chilly leather seats of his car to watch over Joss and Taylor for the rest of the night.


Monday morning found John in the library cleaning his M32 multi shot grenade launcher while Finch waded through a mountain of data, hot on the trail of the mystery 911 caller.

The buzz of work week traffic outside their unconventional office barely registered over the clack of Finch's keyboard. His friend had been working like a man possessed since John called him about the accident on Saturday, piecing together footage from the cameras surrounding the bakery for a clearer picture of what had happened.

John's heart had stopped completely the first time he watched the replay with Harold on Sunday night. Joss had failed to tell him that she was directly in the car's path and missed being run over by mere inches. It was one thing to see the aftermath of the accident and hear her version of events, but quite another to watch her leap out of the way, writhing in pain from her collision with a brick wall.

Not surprisingly the security camera images took center stage in his dreams last night, but this time Joss wasn't able to jump out of the way in time. Reese had awakened in a cold sweat, needing to hear her voice reassure him she was alright.

That was around 2:00am. John couldn't bring himself to disturb what he hoped was a peaceful night's sleep for her, so he drifted in to the library and forced himself to watch the video loop repeatedly, ignoring his rising nausea as he searched for clues to the bastard's identity.

Different angles showed Joss' attempt to take the man into custody, but no matter how he manipulated it, Finch couldn't get a clear picture of his face. After a few unproductive hours, Harold suggested they take a break and focus on other aspects of the case for a while. John had balked at the idea, but recognized the wisdom behind his employer's idea.

Now he was organizing his weapons stockpile while Finch combed through cell phone records and other information, convinced he was about to make a break through.

John started replacing the well oiled pieces and let his thoughts run to Joss as they often did these days.

Sunday morning he had followed mother and son to the late service at a small Methodist church a few blocks from their apartment. From what he could see at that distance she was feeling better, if moving a little slower than usual.

Parked outside the small chapel he had plotted how he would sneak up on Joss and surprise her with an invitation to lunch…then Harold called with a new name.

Thanks to their latest number he spent the rest of the weekend protecting an up and coming landscape designer from the lethal intentions of a rival designer who was competing for the same Central Park contract. Never in his life had he used flowers as weapons, but they worked surprisingly well in a pinch.

All in all he had saved a life so it was a good day, even if he didn't get the chance to call Joss and check up on her like he had hoped to. He was going to make up for that lapse today though by heading over with breakfast after Taylor left for school.

Whether she liked it or not, he was going to be her round the clock bodyguard until the threat to her was over - and they needed to eliminate the threat soon for the whole team's peace of mind.

No one was satisfied with the official explanation, but as far as the police were concerned, Alexander Wetherby committed suicide after killing his girlfriend and attacking Carter. Terney and Reyes had closed out Joss' case, however it was far from over for their quartet.

Little things weren't adding up and there were far to many coincidences for John. Everything was wrapped up too quickly, too neatly. His suspicions were validated last Thursday when, at Finch's request, Dr. Tillman stopped by to review the autopsy footage.

Megan had cautiously agreed that there were enough inconsistencies between the police report and the markings she saw on the body to warrant extra attention from the medical examiner's office. She emphasized several times during her assessment that she was not a forensic pathologist, but her opinion was good enough for Harold and John.

"The guys down at the coroner's office are good people - over worked and under paid, stretched thin just like the rest of us…well most of us," she'd said in parting. "This new hire could have been in a hurry, nervous, or pressured by the family and politicians to close the case quickly."

Or he could have been -

"Mr. Reese," Harold cried out from his desk. "I broke it!"

"Sounds painful Finch," he looked up from re-assembling his grenade launcher. "Want me to call Meg again?"

"No smart ass, I meant I broke the encryption code. I now have the number for our anonymous Good Samaritan." Harold turned back to his computer monitors looking supremely satisfied with himself.

Reese dropped the rag he was using and marched over to stand behind Finch, waiting impatiently for further results. Finding out who called in the tips about the fire and Wetherby might be just the break they were looking for.

"Can you trace the number?"

Finch was silent for several minutes as he feverishly typed command after command for his Machine to follow.

"Unfortunately no." He took off his glasses to rub a hand across his tired eyes. "The phone was part of a larger delivery that was stolen from a local Cost-Mart two years ago. The box of phones, 100 in all, were taken off the loading dock at the back of the store when the truck driver went inside to check in with the manager."

Harold wheeled back in his chair to give John room to read the details for himself.

"Looks like the police didn't have any leads, figured it was an inside job and let it go." John's eyes were glued to the screen as he kept reading. "The investigating officer, E. Watson, followed-up for a few months and then nothing. No one from the store pursued the report any further so they left it at that."

"Officer Eric Watson?" Harold took over the computer again, pulling up the NYPD personnel file for the now retired officer.

"He was unofficially linked to HR, but Donnelly never had enough evidence to prove the accusations. Seems he was one of the handful of officers who weren't rounded up but…"

Another quick records search brought up a more recent photo of the former cop and a perky blonde easily fifteen years his junior. "He now resides in San Diego where he and his new bride Tiffani teach surfing lessons."

"So a suspected HR cop lets the investigation of stolen phones go cold…coincidence?" John was beginning to get the full picture.

"I don't particularly believe in coincidences Mr. Reese. But this appears to be a dead-end at the moment. I'll have to do some more digging to find a way to trace the calls and find out who the owner is."

"Not necessarily." John grabbed his phone from the table and dialed the number on the post-it note. "We could just do it the old-fashioned way Finch."

John had no idea what he would say if someone happened to answer, but he wasn't too worried. Years with Kara and the CIA gave him ample time to fine-tune his improvisation skills.

After several rings he was transferred to a generic robot voicemail greeting, so he followed the prompts and left a message. "I know the truth about what happened to Detective Carter. We need to meet, tonight. Pelham Bay Park, the Kazimiroff nature trail entrance at 8:30."

"Interesting tactic John," Finch muttered, "but what if no one shows up?"

"He'll show up Finch. If not, I can be very…persistent."

"Yes, I've seen your persistence in action; but in the meantime I'll keep trying to track down the phone records for this number and piece together the trail that way."

Harold could continue working his computer magic, but he needed to get to the park to survey the hiking trail and set up his trap for tonight. John quickly fitted the last two pieces back on his weapon and set it aside to pull on his coat.

Once he caught this guy, he would use any means necessary to persuade him into giving up every last piece of information he had about the attack on Joss.


Raymond Terney listened to his voicemail for the sixth time in less than thirty minutes. "I know the truth about what happened to Detective Carter. We need to meet, tonight. Pelham Bay Park, the Kazimiroff nature trail entrance at 8:30."

"Damn it!" He squinted against the harsh glare of the sun's rays bouncing off the twenty story skyscraper across the street, scene of the double homicide he'd been assigned this morning; but his new case was the furthest thing from his mind.

Whoever this joker was, he knew what they were up to and that was dangerous for everyone involved.

He knew something like this was going to happen. Messing with Carter always backfired, he had even tried to warn the selfish son of a bitch to leave her alone two weeks ago; but would he listen? No, and look where that got them.

Terney replayed the message as he parked his cruiser next to the row of patrol cars at the perimeter of the scene. "I know the truth…"

Panic and guilt were gnawing away at his conscience, he had not wanted any part of this whole mess, but what was he supposed to do when they threatened to…

Carter was a friend, a good cop, a single mom raising her son by herself. He didn't want her to get hurt; but she had a guardian angel that always showed up at just the right moment to save her. No one was watching over his family, so he had been forced to do what he had to to keep them safe.

There was no way he was going down for this alone, and he definitely wasn't going to Pelham Bay Park to meet this guy. Terney studied the crowd of curious passersby and dialed with a trembling hand.

"Terney, don't you have a murder to solve?"

"We've got bigger problems to worry about Simmons. Somebody knows."

"Knows what? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Someone knows about the hit out on Carter, the frame-up with Wetherby, all of it."

"How could anyone find out Terney?" Simmons' tone was heavy with accusation.

"I have no idea, but I bet it's that guy in the suit. I told you we should have left her alone."

"And I told you what would happen if you didn't cooperate. You know what it's like for a cop's kid in prison?"

Terney's stomach knotted painfully at the thought of his little girl afraid and alone out on Riker's Island.

It had been an accident, self-defense! But no judge or jury would see it that way now - not after everything he went through to cover it up, including crawling back to HR. He was in too deep to turn back now.

Ray was caught between the proverbial 'rock and a hard place'. He couldn't sacrifice his daughter for Carter, yet he couldn't participate in her murder either. He had agreed to clear the scene, leave the door open for the hit-man; but in the end he walked away feeling as guilty as if he had pulled the trigger himself.

It was that terrible burden that pushed him to call 911 from his HR issued cell phone to report the fire and pray that first responders got there in time. The number was off the grid, untraceable. It wasn't supposed to lead back to him, but somehow this asshole had gotten a hold of it.

"What do you want me to do? The guy wants to meet at Pelham Bay tonight."

"Get your ass back to the station. I've got an idea."

"Can't get away from the scene yet. Reyes is out sick and -"

"I'll take care of it," Simmons growled. "You just worry about stopping this leak. Remember what will happen if anyone finds out about this. We've got to shut this fool up and get rid of Carter before she remembers."

"If she hasn't already -"

"Let me worry about that, just get back here so we can fix this fucking mess. I won't have her jeopardizing my plans, not to mention our new partnership."

Terney had heard enough. He tossed his phone into the cup holder and started up his car to head back to the station, cursing the day he got involved with HR.


"Carter, what the hell are you doin' here?" Fusco roughly grabbed her elbow and hauled her into an empty conference room off the main bullpen.

"You got a death wish or something?"

"What's up with you Fusco?" Joss jerked her arm loose and took a few steps back from her partner. "I just came down here to sign some medical leave papers for the Captain."

She felt bad for lying to Lionel, but it wasn't entirely untrue. Annette, the captain's secretary, called right after Taylor left for school this morning and said she was going to drop the paperwork in the mail. Joss had some free time on her hands, and felt like going for a drive…and after she signed the forms she could check in with the detective assigned to the drunk driving case from Saturday.

If time permitted she wanted to talk with Lionel about her own case - or follow him around on whatever the captain had him working on these days. No one would ever be the wiser, and she could be home in time to make dinner for Taylor.

"What's up with me? I could ask the same thing of you Carter. You've only been out of the hospital a week, and from what I saw of Saturday's accident you almost bought a ticket back there - if not the morgue."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he wasn't through with his rant.

"Look you're not ready to come back to work yet - especially since we don't know who is trying to take you out."

"Fusco relax. If someone was trying to kill me, this - a room full of armed police officers - would be the last place they'd try."

Her partner harrumphed at her theory.

"I'm safer here than I would be alone at home." She didn't believe that and apparently neither did he.

"Does Wonder Boy know you're here?"

That shut her up, but not for long.

"John is not my keeper. I don't have to run my schedule by him."

Out of the corner of her eye she spied Terney walking across the bullpen floor. Perfect. He was also on her list of people to talk to while she was here; but she had to get past her guard dog first.

"Look Lionel, I didn't mean to sound so grouchy. I just came by to sign some insurance papers and offer my help wherever you need me."

She noticed Ray pause by Fusco's desk and look around. Did he need to speak to him? She turned back to mention the visitor, but her partner was on a roll with his lecture.

"While I appreciate the offer Joss, we've got things handled on this end. Besides John would have my head if I let you stay, so come on, let me walk you to your car."

Oh no, she was not about to be railroaded out of her own office. Joss stepped out of the conference room and towards her desk.

"Thanks but I really do need to see the captain first."

Actually she was hoping to avoid Womack altogether. His office door was closed and the blinds were drawn, so there was hope he was not even in the office yet.

"Joss just -"

"Detective Fusco, line one - says it's urgent." The sergeant working the front desk loped over to deliver the message.

"Yeah, yeah that's what they all say. Thanks Gustafsson."

The 6'8" veteran of their office nodded, then squeezed Joss' shoulder - her throbbing right shoulder.

"Good to see you back Carter," he said before winding his way back through the maze of desks.

"Thanks Gus," she called after him.

"I'll just be a second Carter, then I can walk you out."

Joss waved him on and stepped towards her desk only to take a detour to Terney's the second Fusco's back was turned. She managed to intercept Ray on his way back from the break room.

"Carter?! What the hell are you doing here?" He placed his coffee mug on the edge of an empty desk and hugged her tight. "You're a sight for these sore old eyes. How are you feelin' kiddo?"

Joss stepped back, taking in the surprise, genuine happiness and something else - worry or was it fear - in her friend's face. The poor guy needed a vacation, he didn't look good at all.

"I'm doing better Ray. Should be ready to come back any day now - show you guys what real police work looks like."

He laughed along with her. "I don't doubt you for a minute Joss. Somebody's got to whip these lazy jackasses into shape, but what brings you by today? Tired of bon-bons and soap operas already?"

"Something like that," she laughed. "Got some paperwork to fill out for Womack; but I wanted to see you and thank you for all the hours you put in to catch the perp that did this."

Joss picked up on the nervousness in his voice when he deflected her praise. Was it about the case? Family troubles?

"You got hurt on my watch Joss, that's unacceptable." They both fell quiet for several seconds, lost in thought.

"How are the kids? Emily's about to graduate high school right?"

"Yeah, this May, and she's determined to go to NYU this fall. Nathan is almost through with his junior year at Stanford."

"That's great Ray, I'm glad things are going so well."

"Actually, do you have a second Carter?" Terney held her arm, pulling towards the back door. "There's something -"

"Carter! My office, five minutes ago."

"Uh-oh, busted." So much for escaping the captain's notice. All eyes in the bullpen landed on her and Annette discretely wiggled her fingers in a wave of good luck.

"I guess I'd better go, but I'll find you on my way out?" He had something serious on his mind. She prayed it wasn't a family issue, but she would make it a point to talk to him before she left.

"Yeah sure Joss. I'll see you later."

She squeezed his arm in parting then trudged towards the principal's office ignoring Fusco and his 'I-told-you-so' look.


"Well, I get to keep my job." Joss told Adam later that evening, cradling the phone between her good shoulder and left ear while she tossed a pair of Taylor's dirty gym socks in the laundry basket she was carrying. "How did those get into the hallway?"

"But if I show up again," she continued, " I'll be stuck in the motor-pool when I am finally cleared for duty."

His deep chuckle poured through the phone lines. "You're determined Joss I'll give you that. Let me guess, you're going back tomorrow?"

Smart-aleck. "Not exactly. I'm going to see if Fusco will pick me up on his way out to his first call."

She also hadn't seen Terney after the captain was finished with her this morning, and her curiosity was driving her crazy.

"Would it do me any good to try talking you out of it principessa?"

"You're welcome to try, but I'm sure we could find better things to talk about."

"You're right. So…what are you wearing?"

Joss laughed. "Nothing to get your motor running I'm afraid. Just a pair of ratty old jeans and a sweatshirt I got at the academy."

"You don't know my motor then Joss. Tell me more."

That was definitely not a conversation she was comfortable having, particularly when her son was just a few feet away in the kitchen draining the last of the milk.

"Some other time perhaps. What time are you picking me up on Thursday?"

She had agreed to go with him to game night at his parents home this week. It sounded like a lot of fun and she would be meeting the rest of his family. Joss could only hope they would be kind enough to wear nametags for her.

"I'll swing by around 5:30. You sure Taylor doesn't want to come along? He's more than welcome, there'll be plenty of food and kids his age there."

"Nah, he's going out with some guys from the basketball team."

"Maybe next time then, but speaking of next time, I was wondering when you would like to go out again. I'm off work in an hour and I took the rest of the week off. How about dinner and a movie?"

Joss hesitated for a moment before answering. She wanted to, but should she? It was getting late and she didn't want to leave Taylor home alone.

"I'd love to -"

An abrupt knock at her front door interrupted her. Who could that be at, she checked her watch, 8:30?

"Let me call you back in a bit, someone's at my front door."

"No problem. Be careful Joss."

"You too. Talk to you soon Adam."

Joss set the full basket down on the couch and grabbed her back up piece from its hiding spot in the coffee table's hidden compartment. It was probably a salesman, or John, but she wasn't taking any chances.

Quietly she walked to the door and stood on her tiptoes to see through the peep-hole.

"What the hell?" She muttered, sliding her Glock into the entry table drawer. This was a joke right? Had to be.

Joss swung her door open wide to reveal a glamorous Zoe Morgan waiting impatiently on the other side.


Pelham Bay Park was bathed in deep shadows and silence by the time John arrived that night. The outdoor enthusiasts and adventuresome tourists had long since left for warmer locations, and even the light flurries of late evening snow seemed to know they needed to stay away from the murky ground near the hiking trail.

Bare tree branches snapped against each other with every gust of bitterly cold wind, blending in with the groans and growls of the park's wildlife to create a sinister ambiance - perfect for the mayhem Reese had planned for tonight.

He stood thirty feet beyond the first trail's entrance, dressed in black from head to toe with his fury alone to keep him warm. Tension radiated from every cell in his body, and he was ready to pounce the moment his prey arrived.

John clenched and unclenched his fists as he waited, an alien sense of nervousness sweeping through him. He had never felt like this before any of his CIA missions, not even now when he worked the unpredictable numbers with Harold. Deep down he knew why this one was different, this was personal.

Tonight he would come face to face with the man who had played a part - large or small - in Joss's attempted murder. That would not go unpunished, but first he was going to bleed the lowlife dry for information before he took him out.

At exactly 8:30 John heard shuffling foot steps approaching from direction of the Nature Center building. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't worried about disguising his presence. Seconds later a portly man stopped just inside the tree line of the worn path, outside the reach of the soft halo of moonlight.

John felt the monster in him roar back to life with each step forward, but he needed to reign in the impulse to kill or he would never get the information he needed.

As usual he took the direct approach and stalked over to the oblivious man. He tapped him on the back while his other fist was cocked and ready to deliver a blow that would knock him out cold.

The stranger reared back far enough for the moon's glow to highlight his startled face.

"What the fuck?" Reese shifted his momentum as best he could at the last second, stumbling into none other than Lionel Fusco.