Disclaimer: nothing you recognise belongs to me.
Adrift: book two, chapter one.
(I thought of making this a separate story but it really doesn't make sense if you haven't read "Adrift" so this seemed the easiest way to do things. Rating may change so keep an eye out younglings).
It had been almost four weeks since thanksgiving and Joss Carter was already eyeing up the baking trays in the drawer under her oven with trepidation. The turkey was ordered – she'd thought about doing something different this Christmas; maybe roast salmon or beef, but Taylor looked at her as though she was the Grinch that wanted to steal Christmas lunch when she'd aired the idea, so turkey it would be.
And that was alright. She could do turkey – rather liked it even. The best part about Christmas dinner was the leftovers anyway. There were few times that you could pick through the dishes in the refrigerator and make a cranberry and mince pie sandwich if you so chose. So no. it wasn't the cooking that was making her jumpy, it was the guests.
The dapper Harold Finch was bringing sweet Jacey whom Taylor certainly had taken a shine to. Currently the pair were killing zombies in his bedroom. At least she thought that it was zombies – it was an action game on the Playstation anyway. Judging from the laughter her son was losing big time. The young blonde had been over to her place a couple of times at her suggestion; teenage girls couldn't be stuck inside a hotel room all of the time, and since going outside was dangerous while Grayson Kent was still at large, there were very few options that wouldn't result in her either running off or going so stir crazy that she did something stupid that would lead the human trafficker straight to her. A cop's apartment was pretty safe, especially as Harold had made certain to supply her with a grey wig and deeply unflattering clothes if she was entering through the front and had made sure that several other less obvious ways of entering or escaping the building were available and unlocked when needed.
The girl had been shy but polite at first, barely speaking in her presence, but gradually after a marathon run of "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" with more pizza than was healthy and some sinfully good cookies that Reese had apparently given her that morning she had started to relax. Now she came over perhaps twice a week in the evenings, insisting on helping make dinner, and sometimes doing it entirely herself as what she called "practice". Since Carter was often tired after work and Jacey was not only good in the kitchen but seemed to revel in the praise her food garnered, Joss was inclined to leave her to it. She didn't speak to her about her past and Carter didn't push. When she spoke about the things that Harold had done for her though her eyes sparkled and Joss couldn't help but wonder at that. The dapper Mr Finch and Reese saved lives on at least a weekly basis; what must it be like to be confronted with the evidence of their altruism, and indeed their responsibility for a life that they'd saved?
And speaking of Reese...
Rinsing out her coffee cup, Joss catches her reflection in the kitchen window and frowns at herself. She'd invited Jacey for Christmas dinner with more than one goal in mind. Giving the girl something more than a lonely holiday was one reason, but, and it wasn't something that she was particularly proud of, she'd also known that once Jacey accepted either Finch,Reese or both would have to go with her out obligation.
She'd have taken just Finch – she liked the man and God knew she owed him, but she'd really wanted Reese.
When both of them accepted her invitation cloaked in attempts at nonchalance; "It would be nice if you were there for Jacey", "I owe you a properly cooked meal and Taylor would love to see you," she felt a bit silly at not asking the question directly. "Please come and share Christmas with us" would have sounded ridiculously twee though. A cop, her kid, an ex-prostitue, a reclusive genius and a dangerous whatever the hell John was would make a decent action movie not a Hall-mark card.
But in two days time they'd be sat around the table (Taylor and her perched on the fold-up chairs she'd purchased hastily from Wal-mart after realising that along with plates and cutlery their home wasn't really furnished for entertaining ), and then she'd have to play the hostess and keep her hands to herself. Given the kiss that they'd shared at thanksgiving she wasn't sure that she would be able to keep him off the menu. Rather awkward when her son would quite happily marry them both off in a heartbeat and she honestly didn't know what was actually happening between them at the moment. After they'd both nearly drowned they'd barely seen each other. Harold had alluded to John going off somewhere to recover from his gun-shot injury but hadn't gone into detail and Joss hadn't wanted to seem pushy by asking.
When he had dropped Jacey off at her place a couple of days ago she'd barely had time to say hello and ask him to join them for Christmas dinner before his phone had rung and he'd had to dash off again. He'd agreed in a heartbeat and looked apologetic when he'd left though, briefly he'd touched her cheek before racing off to Gods knows where. When she next looked into a mirror she was almost a little surprised not to see tangible marks upon her skin for she could swear that she could still feel that brief touch hours later.
"Mom?" Taylor's voice cuts through her daydreaming and Joss puts the mug she had been half-heartedly drying away.
"Hey sweetie, what's up?"
"Harold rang, he's sending Armaan to pick Jacey up in ten so it's just us for dinner tonight ok?" leaning against the kitchen door, Taylor's dark eyes narrow when he watches her close the cupboard door. "What's up?"
"Nothing." Joss flicks the tea-towel at him and laughs when he bounces backwards. "You move that fast on the basketball court kiddo?" she teases.
"Funny." He wrinkles his nose but can't help smiling. "We've got spaghetti right?" dodging past her he opens the nearest cupboard door. "And tomatoes and herbs and shi... stuff."
"Yeah.."
"Jacey was telling me about this recipe she knows, it sounds really easy; I thought I might try making it."
Joss raises an eyebrow and pretends that she can't see how her son has suddenly become awkwardly defensive. "Hey you wanna try cooking then fine with me. Jacey's a pretty good teacher huh?"
Taylor shrugs. "She wants to be a chef so she's got all these cool books about fancy food, but she reckons the simple stuff is good too and this is really simple." He gives her a grin that reminds her of his father. "Chicks dig guys who can cook right?"
"Right." There's a knock on the door and Joss quickly kisses him on the cheek as she walks past. "The girls like guys who wash-up afterwards too," she adds, reaching for the gun on the refrigerator before checking the peephole and opening the door.
"Armaan." She smiles at the tall Persian man who nods politely in return. "You're doing the school run today?"
He gives a deep chuckle. "I don't think that Jacey would appreciate being described as a schoolgirl."
"She wouldn't because she isn't." Despite the taciturn words Jacey's soft southern accent and the unmistakable humour behind them negate any hint of animosity. "Hey Armaan." The pretty blonde teenager hoists her bag over her shoulder and gives a quick wave to Taylor. "Bye Tay. Bye Detective Carter." Giving a shy smile to Joss she follows the big man into the hallway. "Thanks for having me."
"You're welcome Jacey, and it's Joss remember?" Carter reminds her gently, knowing full well that the girl isn't going to be calling her by her first name anytime soon. Jacey nods, pulling the sweatshirt hood over her hair and following her guardian out the fire escape that leads down into the apartment block next door's parking lot.
Carter watches as they disappear from sight before reaching out to close the emergency door behind them. She can feel him before she hears him and long before she sees the silhouette on the flat roof above her.
"Good evening Joss." The voice is low, husky and damn it if she doesn't feel her panties dampen at it. Making sure that the door can't lock behind her, Carter steps out onto the fire escape and climbs up the few rungs, sitting down on the roof and crossing her legs. Three stories below she can see the shadowy figures of Jacey and Armaan getting into a dark coloured vehicle before they exit the parking lot and disappear into the traffic.
"Are you the bodguard's bodyguard?" She asks. "It doesn't sound very cost effective." Deliberately not looking at him as he pads over to her and sits down close enough for her to feel his body heat but not to touch, it seems to take forever before he speaks.
"Just keeping an eye on things." A comment that could mean anything. Joss keeps her eyes on the traffic. The after-images of the cars' headlights make wiggly scribbles behind her eyelids when she blinks. She doesn't think about how cold it is until John puts an arm around her. He's wearing a leather jacket and jeans. He smells of gunpowder residue, the sweat that only comes from adrenaline and soap. CSI Joss, she thinks, uncrossing her legs and scooting a little closer to him. Her arms are bare; she hadn't meant to go outside, in a couple of minutes Taylor would start to worry and come looking for her. She can feel the goosebumps rising on her skin and isn't sure if they are due to the cold air or the proximity of the man sat next to her.
"Do that often do ya?" Carter rests her cheek for a brief moment against his chest. The scrape of stubble is prickly against her forehead when he rests his head against hers, the lump of the gun on his hip digs into her side. She thinks about making a joke about it and decides not to. A couple of minutes like this, that's all there is, Taylor will be wondering where she's gone. "Any news on Kent?"
"Harold's looking, but the paper trail is non-existant and he's been clever. No contact with known associates, no hits via facial recognition. He had money stashed all over the place and at least five different aliases that we know of."
"Do you think he'll come back?" Joss takes his hand and warms it between both of hers. Even when the weather was warm his hands were usually cool. Her mother would have said that there wasn't enough meat on him. She had a point, Carter acknowledges, but then Reese didn't exactly have a job where you could sit down for three decent meals a day.
"I'm not sure," John admits. "If he's smart then he won't - there's enough people after him legal and otherwise to make it dangerous, and he doesn't have anything to gain."
"But.." Joss prompts.
He sighs. "If he's caught he'll go down with or without Jacey's testimony, but she was the domino that set everything into motion and destroyed his career, business and name. For the type of man that I think he is then that's an itch that he'll have to scratch sooner or later."
"It's a good job that she's got people looking out for her then isn't it?" Joss doesn't mind that his other hand is cold when he cups her chin and nuzzles her lips with his before pulling her closer and becoming more demanding. When he kisses her like that she's got enough heat for the both of them. She can feel his arousal when he pulls her onto his lap, the steady, strong rhythm of his breathing when she drops her head to his shoulder.
When she disentangles herself from him she kisses him on the forehead, those silver blue eyes watching as she walks away and climbs down the fire escape. "Next time just come over and knock on the door." From below all she can see is his profile against the stars. "And Jacey is already coming for Christmas so whatever you make you're on your own."
"I can cook!" He sounds a little affronted.
"Prove it." She gives a saucy wink just before opening the door. "Maybe I'll end up owing you dessert." Ha! She thinks to herself. John Reese did not have the monopoly on making really bad sexual innuendos. Entering her apartment she's too high on endorphins to see the man lurking in the shadows at the end of the hallway.
