The Greatest Reward

The smooth sound of Bobby Darin singing about his 'dream lover' played in the background of the nostalgic diner, but Reese wasn't paying attention. Sitting in the corner booth, he folded sections of a serviette and tried to keep his mind blank.

Today was the day Joss was supposed to get the news about her brownstone. As far as he knew, Kenny had found no further complications with the fumigation, and things were back on schedule. By tomorrow, Joss Carter would be back to her old life—one that didn't need or include him. And it broke his heart. A part of him wanted to stay in his loft and nurse his broken heart over a fifth of scotch, but then the phone rang and Fusco was demanding to meet at the local corner diner. So, here he was—alone, making origami.

He tried not to think about the last conversation before he left the loft earlier, but his thoughts wandered.

She looked so beautiful, sitting at the kitchen island, her hair mussed and her feet bare. His robe was three sizes too big, but it fitted her perfectly. She looked as though she had had a bad night's sleep, and it was on the tip of his tongue to ask how she was doing, but she beat him to the punch.

"Coffee's been made," Joss informed him, as she wrapped her hands around the over-sized ceramic mug.

"Thanks." Reese walked over to the cupboard and pulled down a mug. His hand shook ever so slightly as he lifted the carafe to pour the hot java.

"I am going shopping today," Joss finally spoke to break the silence. Reese turned around to look at her. "I thought I'd get dressed and leave early."

"Sure."

Joss turned her mug around in her hands. "Do you have any plans?"

"Thought I'd drop in and check on Finch and Bear."

"Are you sure you're not going to try and nab a number?" Joss half-teased. She really wanted to spend the day with him—if only he would ask, she would cancel her plans in a New York minute. Ask me to stay, John. Say the words. Please.

Reese shrugged. "Probably not. Finch was pretty adamant that I take vacation time. And I'm sure Shaw wouldn't appreciate me cutting into her plans." If he were honest with himself, he would much rather spend the day with her. God knew they needed to talk. If she would ask him to stay, he would—in the blink of an eye. Ask me to stay, Joss.

The tension began to build as blue eyes met brown eyes. Wordlessly, they tried to speak with their eyes what they didn't dare say a loud.

"John…."

"Joss…."

Their phones rang simultaneously. The brief moment of connecting was gone.

"It's-it's Taylor," Joss said, looking at the screen. Grabbing the phone, she exited the kitchen. "Hey Taylor…."

Reese stared at the doorway until the ringing chime on his phone broke his concentration. "What, Lionel?" he growled into the receiver.

"Well, good morning to you too, Superman. Sounds like someone needs a double dose of espresso," Lionel greeted.

"What do you want?"

"Let's do lunch."

"What are you talking about?"

"A meal between friends," Lionel explained.

"We're not friends," Reese contradicted.

"Heh. Look, I have an update on the brownstone renovation. Meet me at noon at the corner deli," Lionel continued as though Reese hadn't said anything.

"Lionel…."

"Bring your wallet. See you then." The call was ended. Reese gave a narrowed eyed glare at the blank screen.

"Who was that?" Joss asked.

"Fusco."

Joss nodded. "I see."

"Everything alright with Taylor?"

Joss shrugged. "I guess. He sounded kind of cryptic with his request." She didn't elaborate. "I should go get changed."

"Me too. You can shower first," Reese offered, "I'm going to finish my coffee."

Joss debated arguing but changed her mind. "Oh, okay." She turned around and left the kitchen. Her bare feet made a pat-pat sound on the hard wood floor, then faded off.

Words unspoken. Requests not made. And now he sat alone at a table waiting for the inevitable bad news.

"Nice duck."

"It's a crane," Reese corrected, not looking up from his task. Folding the last section, he placed it on the table next to the other ten he had made.

Lionel looked at his friend's handiwork. "I didn't know they taught origami in the CIA," he quipped.

"I learned it in the Army."

"And here I thought you could only shoot straight." Lionel took the seat opposite and sat down. "If you ever retire from being—whatever it is that we are—you should get hired at the local college to give a course."

"And you can teach basket weaving."

"Ha ha. Funny guy." Lionel reached for the menu.

"Why did you call me, Lionel?"

"Gee! Can't a guy eat first?"

"Would you rather get shot?"

"Pfft! You don't scare me."

A waitress walked up. "Are you ready to order?"

Lionel nodded at Reese. "Not sure about him, but I am. I'll take the double bacon cheeseburger—with the works; a large side of fries—well done; a chocolate malt; and piece of cherry pie," he recited from the menu.

The waitress busily wrote down the requested items. "Ice cream?"

"Why not! Make it vanilla."

"Sir, anything for you?"

Reese looked up. "Ice water."

"Okay. I'll be back with your drinks."

Lionel leaned back against the cushion. "Why don't you ask her to stay?"

Reese glanced up from his newest project. "Who?"

"The Queen of England," Lionel replied sarcastically. "Joss Carter."

"Who says I want her to stay."

"Bullshit! What do you mean you don't want her to stay?! You're sitting in a hole-in-the-wall diner in downtown Manhattan, folding ducks!"

"Cranes."

"Whatever. Birds."

"She needs to get back to her life."

"And what do you need to get back to?" Lionel challenged. He held up his hand. "Don't answer that; I know: shooting bad guys in the knees and living in the shadows—while you moon over a beautiful detective from a far."

The drinks were set on the table. Picking up his straw, Lionel ripped the paper off and shoved the plastic into the thick malt.

"Did I miss anything?"

"That it would be easier to eat that thing with a spoon," Reese remarked without feeling.

"Wise guy." Lionel grabbed the spoon. "Happy? Look, I know you love Joss…and she loves you."

"No, she doesn't."

"You calling me a liar? I see it. Finch sees it. Despite not being able to process emotions, Shaw sees it. I've been a detective for a long time, pal, and I can see the clues."

"Stretching it there, Lionel."

"Just because I have less bullet trophies dotting my flesh, it doesn't mean I'm any less a detective."

"If you say so." Reese tossed the finished crane on the table top.

"Ask her to marry you."

Startled, Reese looked up sharply. "What?!"

"Marriage. Commitment. Life-long partnership."

"I—"

"Scary thought—you going legit; but it's time for someone to make an honest man out of you."

"And you think that someone is Joss."

"I know it is. You know it is. Quit being so damn stubborn." The large plate with fries and a burger was placed in front of Lionel. "Ketchup?"

"Right here." The bottle was deposited beside the plate. "Your pie will be ready when you're done."

"Thanks, sweetheart." Lionel picked up the ketchup and poured a generous amount. He pointed down at the mound of fries. "Want one?"

"No, thanks."

"Heh. Your loss. Why do you think she won't marry you?"

"Because I caused her to lose her memories."

"How you figure?"

"I gave her bedbugs."

"That was you?!" Lionel sputtered with his mouth full. "Damn. I can see how she might pop a cap in you." He continued eating. "What if you didn't?"

"Didn't, what? I'm not following you, Lionel."

"What if you didn't cause the loss of her memories? Then, do you think you might be worthy enough to settle down with her?"

"I want to believe you, Lionel." Deep in his heart, John Reese wanted to believe that there was a happy ever after—even for a bum like him.

"Wanna bet?"

Reese rolled his eyes heavenward. "Sure."

"I bet the price of this meal. And the tip."

"You're going to lose."

Lionel smiled broadly. "Oh, ye of such little faith. They don't call me 'The Fusco' for no reason. Now take a fry, let me finish my lunch, and then I'll show you how you're going to make Joss Carter be in debt to you for the rest of her life."

Smiling sadly, Reese reached over and took a fry. Slowly, he ate it.
**************************

"It's so good to see you, T," Joss gushed happily as she hugged her son again.

"Mom, we're in public."

"So sue me for being happy to see my baby after nearly a month."

"Okay. Let's sit down." Taylor guided Joss over to a bench in the park, just far enough from people being able to overhear their conversation, but close enough to keep an eye out for anything that might go amiss.

"Thank you for lunch," Joss said.

"You're welcome."

"How much did it cost me?" Joss joked.

"Nothing."

"Heh. Sure. You're telling me you got a job while you were over in Europe?"

"Yes."

"But you're going to college in the fall," Joss protested. "I don't want you burning the candle at both ends."

"Mom. Mom. It's nothing strenuous. In fact, it's going to help me get my degree. Plus, it's going to take a huge chunk of burden off your shoulders," Taylor said, hoping she shared in his joy.

Joss bit her lip. "I don't mind."

"You might not, but I do. You'll be paying off my bills for years—if not decades."

"That's what moms do."

"Well, you don't have to. With the job comes a scholarship."

Joss looked at Taylor in stunned surprise. "Scholarship? Who are you interning for?" She racked her brains to remember what corporation or enterprise would be so lenient to hire an untrained, unskilled almost eighteen year old with virtually no work experience or history.

Taylor reached into his backpack and pulled out the creamy white envelope. "Here."

"Wren Insurance and Liability, LLC," Joss muttered, extracting the letter stamped with the company LOGO. "Dear Mr. Carter….pleased to inform you that you have been awarded a full scholarship…internship…full benefits…start date…"

"See, it's real. I have a job and am going to school, and I am taking the burden off your shoulders."

Tears shone in Joss' eyes. "I don't want you to," she whispered. "You're still my baby."

"Mom, I'm nearly eighteen."

"Still…." How could she explain to him the way her heart was breaking? Going to Europe was one thing, but now he was going to college and making his own money—he was going to never need her again. Add in that John let her go…. It had to be the crappiest week in her life.

"What's really wrong, Mom?"

"What do you mean?" Joss tried to deflect.

"You're sad, and I will bet it has nothing to do with me leaving."

Joss looked away. She couldn't lie to Taylor, but it wasn't fair to burden him with her love life—or lack thereof.

"Does it have to do with that guy you went on vacation with?" Taylor inquired gently.

"No. Yes."

"Did you sleep with him?"

Tears forgotten, Joss looked at her son in wide-eyed surprise. "Taylor Ulysses Carter!"

"Awwww Mom! Really?"

"You went there first."

"I'm sorry. I'm just trying to figure out why you're so heartbroken over a man you didn't…you know."

Joss sighed. "Not that it's any of your business."

"I'll take that as a yes. Do you love him?" Taylor asked before Joss could admonish him again.

"Yes."

"Then go for it."

"What?"

"You can't sit around all day waiting for a handwritten invitation. Go for what you want. Isn't that what you taught me?" he challenged.

"Yes, but…."

"But, what?"

"I don't think he loves me."

"Did he say that?"

"He didn't have to."

Taylor chuckled. "For a great detective, you suck as a relationship adviser. If he didn't love you, he wouldn't have taken you on a vacation. He wouldn't have helped to get your life back in order. And he wouldn't have let you stay at his place."

"Taylor, you don't understand."

"You're afraid, Mom. Dad hurt you. I get it. But this guy…he's head over heels for you. I saw it when he rescued me. He loves you more than I think he knows he does."

"How would you know?"

Taylor lifted his shoulder, dropped it. "It's a guy thing. He wouldn't have risked his life for me if he didn't love you."

"But how do I know he feels the same?"

"Put it out there. Beat him to the punch. And if he gets cold feet, ask him to marry you. But I'm sure that you won't have to pull that card," Taylor said confidently.

"John Reese is a wanted criminal," Joss reminded Taylor.

"Well, that's going to make for some exciting family get-togethers. Besides, I want a brother or sister before your biological clock runs out."

"Ooh, you little monster! If you don't watch it, you might not live long enough to get that job or scholarship," Joss growled, but her eyes sparkled with love.

"I'm going to bet that you will. Tell you what, let's go shopping and then dinner. I'll stop by tomorrow and help you move your stuff to the brownstone. Deal?" He extended his hand. Joss took it.

"Deal. But you're not getting a sibling."

"Step-dad will do." Taylor pressed a kiss to the top of Joss' head, before pulling her into a hug. "Just tell him, Mom."

"I will. I love you."

"Love you too."