A/N: A combination of sickness, writer's block, stuckness, getting unstuck and the rewrites have caused the delay. I'm still writing...

As always, enjoy x

Three months later, Monday 4th August 2014, 4.20pm, Oasis Spa, Brooklyn

Just because Evelyn promised to wait until Joss finally brought her mystery man around, it didn't mean she would do it impatiently. In her opinion, their relationship wasn't progressing at the speed she would've liked and the idea of not being able of not being able to put a name to a face unnerved her.

"Look at my face." Joss took another look, there was nothing wrong with it. "My mud mask practically crusted over waiting for you."

Joss knew better than to argue, instead she kicked off her shoes and explained her lateness away. "I'm sorry. I got caught up. Soon as the sun comes out everyone's got some kind of emergency."

"Mm-hmm. Every time we try to do something nice together, something comes up. You need to get away from that desk."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Mmm, sassy too. We need to catch up."

"I just saw you yesterday.

And you were so forthcoming at lunch. What's there to hide?

"Nothing." Everything. "I'm an open book." With a few, key chapters missing.

"Okay, so when will we meet him?"

"I don't know yet, he's not ready for that. We're not ready for that."

Evelyn fingered through the magazine in her sing-song voice, specially reserved for telling it like it is. "You know, I don't know if I like the sound of him keeping you in the dark."

The manicurist smiled. "Ma, it's not like that."

"I hope not. 'Cause that's almost as bad as Paul's new pop tart."

"Ma-"

"I was this close to telling him to find someone his own age when I saw them."

"Where?"

"At Whole Foods. And get this; she's a gym bunny. With a uniform."

Joss grabbed the nearest magazine and caught an article about work-life balance. "They say curiosity killed the cat."

"And satisfaction brought her back. All nine times. Is that O Magazine?" Joss didn't get to read half a page before giving it to her. "Do you have that jet water thingy?" She asked the manicurist who was filling their large foot baths with blue salt. As he bubbles formed she wriggled her toes like a child. And the fishing began. "Much better. So, has he ever been married?"

Joss immediately thought of Zoe. "Just for the weekend. Maybe a week."

Evelyn thought she was being sarcastic. "Kids?"

"Nope."

"You know I watched a documentary…"

"No, Ma. He's not gay."

"'Cause it's not like you can tell by looking."

Joss sighed and threw her head back. As soon as her feet hit the water, it was all worth it "I can tell."

"Taylor said he's got a killer 1-2 combo."

"He knows how to defend himself."

"Wrap sheet?"

"Long as my arm."

She flicked through magazine unsatisfied. "Fine, suit yourself."

Wednesday 6th August 2014, 5.33pm, Joss' apartment

"Paul."

"John."

Taylor didn't know what to make of the grunting and odd monosyllabic greeting between John and his dad. Whenever they saw each other, they were short on words but the room grew thicker with tension the longer they stayed in it. Joss seemed immune to it; choosing to empty the cupboard of snacks for the journey rather than watch them grunt at each other It didn't help that John showed up on a Ducati Streetfighter S the same day they were due to leave for their long-awaited trip to Virginia. Taylor attributed his coming in through the front door to the motorcycle helmet; he wasn't convinced John was a fed because he didn't act like any of the Agents he'd seen on TV but he couldn't describe whatever he was.

In the past few months they'd been more discrete but also secretive; he could hear their muffled voices in the night when they thought he was asleep but couldn't make out what they were saying. He swore they were up to something, sneaking out late together like they were in some kind of secret club.

"Are you guys ready?" Joss asked, reappearing from the kitchen with the last bag of potato chips.

"I think we're all good. You?" Paul asked Taylor, looking John up and down. Leather-wearing, motorbiking jackass.

"Yeah. Ma, please-"

"Take care of your car, I will." She rolled her eyes, ever since he got his keys he'd practically been living in it. "You stopping by Milton?" She asked, to snap Paul out of the staring match.

"Uh, yeah, and and Hillman. We should get going." Paul lifted the stuffed duffel bag over his right shoulder.

"Sounds great. Take care and take these." She tossed the potato chips Taylor's way. "Call me."

Paul mumbled something incoherent on their way out. Taylor didn't get why his dad was acting weird again when he had a new girlfriend; a pretty one who worked out for a living.

"Tell me, what on Earth did you see in that clown?" John asked, hanging his leather jacket on the couch.

She laughed to herself. "Trust me, it made sense at the time. So, what's with the outfit? It's not like you to wear leather on leather."

"Just staying mobile."

She wasn't buying it. "Try again."

He sighed. "You should sit down."

"Okay." She hadn't invited him over to be the bearer of bad news, in fact she welcomed the idea of staying together for as long as they could now they had the house to themselves. "What's up?"

"Simmons is dead."

"Simmons is dead?"

John nodded. "Finch is looking into it, poking all the holes in the prison records system for the autopsy results. But he intercepted a letter; official comms from the Federal Bureau of Prisons. Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

"Tell me what you want me to do."

"Can you find out who did this?"

"I can try. But you might have better luck."

There was only one person she was close to who could've done it without getting cauht, but it was still surprising he brought up the idea of making contact. "You think Elias is behind this?"

"I think he has reach, from wherever he is. And he likes you enough not to kill you."

"We're not exactly on speaking terms. I'm not sure I want to invite him back into my life."

"Of course not. I'll do what I can. What are you thinking?"

"That it was easier when he was rotting in a cell. I mean, I had concerns but at least I knew where he was. I guess I just don't know what it means. So I don't know what to think. Things were just going back to normal, as normal as they've ever been, is it crazy to want that?"

"You're asking the wrong man."

"I guess so. It's not like you to be here in the afternoon. What's going on? Another number?"

"I didn't come here to talk about work."

"No?"

"No. I came to tell you that I'm here for you, whatever comes. And I've got a spare helmet."

"Thanks. But I don't feel like running or riding away right now."