Hey everyone, I'm back with a one shot for you! I have more fics in the hopper, there's so much rattling around in my head right now, it's hard to get down into the computer.
Shout out to PiscesChikk for all her help on this story, you rock!
Thanks to the Careese community for being an isle of sanity and support in this crazy world.
John watched as Kara raised her weapon and fired. Everything moved in slow motion as the bullet left the barrel of the gun and hit John in the chest. He knew it was a mortal wound and he only had minutes to live. Kara opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, John heard the distinctive sound of an inbound jet, followed by the sound of a missile. There was an explosion, and he was engulfed in fire…
John startled awake, breathing heavily, heart pounding, and covered in sweat. He checked Joss as she was snuggled against his side and to his relief she was still asleep. He managed to slide out of bed without waking her, and silently padded into the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water and sat at the table in the dark as he waited for his heart and breathing to calm enough to go back to bed.
He sipped his water as he thought of Ordos. It had been quite a while since he'd had a nightmare about that debacle, and he wondered what, if anything, had triggered it. His nightmares had diminished since he had started working the numbers, and had been rare since he and Joss had become a couple.
Joss. She had made his life better in so many ways, big and little. She made him a better man, she made him want to be a better man. If he could, he would ask her to marry him, but dead men can't propose. Joss said it didn't matter to her, and he believed her, but he couldn't help but think she deserved better than a dead guy.
John decided that he was ready to return to bed. He put his glass in the sink and moved silently back to the bedroom. He took a minute to stand next to the bed and stare at his Joss. A hair had escaped the silk scarf she wore over her hair and was laying across her face. Gently John pushed it away from her face then slid back under the covers. Joss sighed and snuggled back up his side. John fell back to sleep quickly after that.
John and Joss were having a leisurely lunch in their favorite diner. It was one of those rare times where Joss's day off coincided with a day without a number. Taylor was in school, so the two of them had the day to themselves. They had slept in, had a light breakfast, then ran some errands like picking up some new suits for John, delivering Finch's pain meds, and mailing a package for Joss's mother. After lunch they would go grocery shopping, then head for home to fix dinner and watch the game.
John reveled in these mundane chores, the things that "normal" people do every day without a thought. It always amused Joss that the baddest bad ass in New York found pleasure in trips to the UPS Store and the pharmacy. Of course, John was still John, so he would get antsy if more than a few days passed between numbers, but Joss would enjoy the quiet while she could.
They were just starting to eat when a middle aged black man plunked himself down at their table and said, "Hello John."
John was none too pleased to see him. "Beale," he replied carefully. "I thought you were going to leave me alone."
"Believe me, John, I had every intention of doing so, but something has come up and we need your help."
"Find someone else," John growled.
"Your country needs you," Beale responded calmly.
"Oh, you mean the country that tried to murder him with a missile from an A-10?" Joss snarled.
For the first time the man acknowledged Joss was there. "Hello, Detective Carter."
Joss folded her arms and lifted her chin. "And you are?"
"Terence Beale, ma'am."
Joss glanced over to John and he mouthed "CIA" at her. "Figures," she snorted.
Beale inclined his head. "I recruited him. He was my best."
Joss fixed Beale with a steely glare that had caused more than one perp to wet themselves during interrogation, but the CIA operative was unbothered. "And here you come trying to drag him back."
Beale looked down at the table and then back at Joss. "I wouldn't have come unless it was necessary." He turned to John. "Hear me out, then I'll leave. You will have 24 hours to give me your answer. If you say No, you will never hear from me again."
"And if he says yes?" Joss sniffed. "What does he get besides your gratitude?"
"He gets his life back. John Davis will live again," Beale laid a file folder on the table and pushed it over to John. John opened the file and began flipping through it. "John Davis did not die in combat, he retired with honors and a full pension. Even got a Silver Star for bravery in combat. Remember the Zaranj incident? You would have gotten a star for that if you hadn't accepted my offer."
John nodded and continued flipping through the file.
"You can access the VA, you won't need twenty aliases for everything. You could even marry your girl."
John's hand stopped flipping pages and he briefly froze.
"Oh NO," Joss snapped.
Slowly John lifted his head and looked at her. "Joss…" he whispered.
"No, John. We don't need that piece of paper, and it sure isn't worth your life!"
"We don't know what the mission is yet," John protested.
"He wouldn't offer you this if it wasn't dangerous!" Joss shot back. She glared at Beale through tears in her eyes and her nostrils flared. "Spit it out! What's so important you would resurrect a dead man?" Her voice choked on the word "dead."
Beale didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed or ashamed. "Region 45 in Afghanistan, Home to The Brotherhood of the Kingdom of Allah, one of the most fanatical Al Qaeda factions. John spent several years in that area and led a successful mission to destroy a major terrorist training camp and base. We almost wiped them out, but a few managed to get away. They've rebuilt in the last year and that camp is now the home base of the remains of the leadership structure. He's the only surviving member of that squad who has all his limbs and isn't an addict. We need him to lead another mission, he knows that terrain. If we can take out that camp and their leadership structure. it will be a death blow."
"Don't tell me, it's on the wrong side of some arbitrary line. They'll have no support and you'll disavow all knowledge of the mission if they're caught." Joss could barely breathe, her chest was so tight. She could see John was actually considering the offer.
Beale only shrugged. "Same as last time. It was that mission that brought John to our attention."
Joss narrowed her eyes. "So what's different this time? Why does it have to be him?"
John answered. "Last time we snuck up on them through a cave system near the camp. I guessing that's not an option this time."
"It is not," Beale confirmed. "They collapsed that cave. We need your knowledge of the area."
"Then we'll have to approach over open ground or repel down a cliff," John frowned.
"Yes," Beale replied. "and you are currently the only man left alive, intact, and sober enough to do it."
"Dear God," Joss whispered.
Beale got up and tossed a card on the table. "Call this number by 3 o'clock tomorrow afternoon if you're in. If I don't hear from you, the mission will proceed without you, and you will remain dead." Then he turned and left, leaving behind a very quiet John and a ready to explode Joss.
The smell of burger and fries that normally made Joss's mouth water suddenly made her nauseous. John reached across the table to take her hand, but she abruptly got up, rapidly walked out of the diner and down the street to the car. As soon as she reached for the door handle, she realized her keys were in her purse, which she had left in the diner. She folded her arms against the roof and laid her head down while she willed herself to breathe.
She jumped when the car chirped. John appeared next to her and handed her her purse without a word. They got in the car and sat staring ahead. Finally Joss said, "Take me home, please."
They drove to Joss's little townhouse in silence as they each struggled with their emotions. The tension in the car was so thick it nearly blew out the windows.
John found a parking spot almost right in front of Joss's home. She swiftly got out of the car and walked up the steps to her front door. Her hand was shaking so badly that she struggled to get the key in the lock until her hand was engulfed by John's much larger one. He slipped his other arm around her waist while he gently guided her hand to insert the key and unlock the door. Together they stepped through the door, and it was only when they were inside with the door shut behind them that Joss finally let her control slip.
She sagged against the door and the tears fell. "How could you?" she demanded furiously. "How could you even think of taking this mission?"
John pulled her to him, holding her tight. "I want my life back."
Joss slapped his chest. "You have a life! A good life!"
"It's only half a life," John replied. "I've been declared dead, twice." He stroked her cheek with a small, tender smile on his face. "I can't marry you."
"We don't need a piece of paper!" Joss choked. "I'm committed to you NOW."
John caught her head between his hands. "Joss, I want that piece of paper. I want you to be my wife. I want Taylor to be my son. I want us to be a family. I want this for us."
"We are a family," Joss replied.
"But we have to hide it. We have to tip toe around in the shadows. I don't want that for you or Tay, you deserve better. Let me give that to you. I want it to be REAL. I want us to be complete."
"We can't be complete if you're dead," Joss wailed.
"My life is in danger every day, Joss. This is no different."
"Yes, it is. Here in New York, you have friends. Finch, Shaw, Root, Fusco, me. You can depend on us and we depend on you. We all keep each other alive." She took a deep breath. "You heard Beale. No cover, no support, deep in enemy territory with strangers. This is a suicide mission. You're not supposed to come back. What if they send another A-10? They tried to kill you once, don't give them another shot!"
John shook his head. "Control ordered my execution, not Beale. Control has vanished, she's not in charge anymore. This is different from Ordos, I feel it."
"Don't risk it, please. Don't leave me alone."
"You're a strong woman Joss…"
"I'm tired of being a strong woman! I don't want to be alone anymore. I can't go back to being alone." She looked up at him, "Please don't ask me to be alone again."
John gently brushed her tears away. "I need you to trust me. I know I can do this. I will return to you. Nothing will keep me from you. Nothing. You're my anchor…." John's voice choked off on the last word.
Joss stared into John's pleading eyes. She had spent her entire life as an outsider, a misfit, a loner. For so many years she had told herself that she didn't need anyone but then the swirling vortex of chaos known as John Reese had upended her life, and she found she liked not being alone. She loved this man more than any other with the exception of her son. Losing him would destroy her. Yes, she would persevere and carry on, but she would never be the same. Her heart would never fully recover. She had never had a connection with another person like she had with him.
Losing him meant going back to being alone. Losing him meant losing the only person who understood her. Losing him meant losing her heart.
She knew if she said "No," he wouldn't go, and he would never mention it again. Nothing would change between them. But she looked into those lovely blue eyes as they begged her to understand, and she knew she could not deny him this despite the cost to her battered heart. John was the most unselfish person she had ever met, he never asked for anything for himself. How could she ask him not to fight for the only thing he had ever wanted? John needed to be whole, this was the only way for him to achieve it.
"If you die, I'll hate you forever," she whispered.
John kissed her tenderly. "I won't. I have too much to come home to."
That night their lovemaking was achingly tender and gentle. But for Joss each loving touch was another wound to her already aching heart. She tried to focus on the moment, to enjoy the way John played her body like a fine musical instrument. But the dread was there in the back of her mind, whispering that this could be last time she had her vigilante with her.
John did not sleep very well that night. He had the Ordos nightmare again, except this time it was Beale pulling the trigger instead of Kara. He was trying to get back to sleep when he heard the back door to Joss's townhouse open. He slid out of bed without a sound and took his gun out from underneath his pillow. He crept down the stairs, hugging the wall with all his senses on high alert in full operative mode. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, listening for the intruder. He heard a small sound coming from the kitchen, so he moved silently in that direction. When he reached the kitchen door, he paused again, listening, with his back pressed against the wall next to the doorway. Someone was definitely in there.
With a quick motion he spun so he was standing in the doorway, gun straight out in front of him. "Freeze." he barked.
"Don't shoot!" Squeaked a familiar voice.
"Taylor?" John flicked on the lights to see the wide-eyed teen standing in front of the open refrigerator with his hands up and a slice of cheese hanging out of his mouth. John smirked at the boy and made a rather dramatic show of flicking the gun safety on with his thumb.
Taylor sighed, put his hands down and took the cheese out of mouth. "Guess I'm busted."
"What were you doing sneaking out? It's a school night!" John replied sternly.
Taylor looked down, shrugged, and shuffled his feet. "Party at Latisha Morton's. Her parents are out of town."
"Morton, as in Devin Morton, the criminal defense attorney? Oh your mom is going to love that, he tried to destroy her on the stand last month. He dropped all sorts of hints that she had planted evidence."
Taylor blew out another sigh. "Yeah. Thanks for that reminder, I feel bad enough already."
"Then why did you sneak out?"
"I got tired being teased about being the goody-goody cop's kid. I got tired of taking shit for being the scholarship kid."
"You wanted to fit in."
"Yeah."
"How's that working out?"
"It's not. Party was boring. Nothing but loud music and drinking. I don't really like the taste of alcohol."
Taylor looked so forlorn that John didn't have the heart to rat him out to Joss. John knew the feeling of wanting to fit in. But he needed to be sure the teen didn't make sneaking out at night a habit. John knew all too well the dangers of the city.
"I'll make a deal with you, if you promise to never sneak out like this again, I won't tell your mom this time. You do this again and I'll bring the full force of Hurricane Jocelyn down on you."
Taylor's glum face brightened. "Really?"
"I used to sneak out, too, when I was your age. I've been where you are now, and trust me on this, you don't want make the same mistakes I did. Besides if anything happened to you, your mom would be devastated."
Taylor nodded vigorously. "Deal. This whole sneaking out thing is overrated anyway."
John smiled. "Glad to hear it, now get your butt in bed. And you had better get up in the morning without your mom having to get on your case."
Taylor grinned widely and started to walk past John to get to the stairs. Then he stopped and turned back. "John, I'm glad you're here even if you do have super human hearing. You're good for mom. Before you, she was all alone out there on the streets. No one watched her back. Since you showed up she smiles more. She's not alone."
Now it was John's turn to shift his weight uncomfortably. "About that…"
Taylor's eyes grew wide and his mouth formed a small "o". "You're leaving?"
"Just for a while," John hastened to reassure him. "I have a mission I have to go on."
"You'll be back?"
"As soon as I possibly can. Then I promise I won't leave again."
"Well, mom always did say you keep your promises."
"I do. Good night, T."
"Night, John." Then Taylor vanished up the stairs.
John leaned his back against the wall and let his head drop back. Taylor's words had brought back the pain in Joss's eyes when John had said he want to take this mission and reclaim his life. Guilt had been his constant companion for years now, and John had thought he was tapped out. But Taylor had just ratcheted the guilt meter up past the red zone. "I will be back," John thought to himself. Back to his family.
The next morning John made the call to the number on Beale's card. At 3 o'clock on the dot, a black limo with tinted windows so dark that the occupants could not be seen pulled up outside Joss's townhouse. John and Joss stepped out onto the front stoop. John had nothing but the clothes on his back, he had been told not to bring any luggage, his every need would be provided for.
Gently he kissed her goodbye. "Wait for me," he asked, his voice raspier than usual.
"You don't even have to ask," Joss replied, blinking rapidly. "I'll be right here. I'll wait forever if I have to." She meant it, and John knew it.
One more kiss to her forehead then John strode down the steps and into the limo.
Joss stood and watched as the limo pulled away from the curb and drove away. She gripped the railing hard as insurance she wouldn't chase the car down the street. The metal railing bit into her skin as she gripped it, but her entire focus was on the car the taking John away from her. She didn't take her eyes off it until it turned the corner and was out of sight. She had no way of knowing that John stared out the back window at her the entire time.
In the days that followed John's departure, Joss busied herself with work, the numbers, and Taylor. Her plan was to keep herself as busy as possible so she wouldn't have time to be lonely. Results were mixed, Joss wasn't as good as John at compartmentalization, but during the day when she was busy, the plan worked. However, when she was alone at night in her cold bed, she would stare up at the ceiling and wrestle with her loneliness and worries. She still missed John's big warm body next to her. She missed his touch, his scent, and his presence. She even missed his snores.
She told herself that every day that passed was another day she was closer to seeing him again. She knew that he was skilled and capable, and she believed he would come back to her and Taylor. Back to his family
A thousand miles away, at a Black Ops site somewhere in the middle of nowhere, John was lying in bed in his spartan quarters, staring at the ceiling. His days at the base were filled with meetings, studying intel reports, and training with his new team.
John's team was made of twenty men of various ages and ranks, though he wasn't sure he could trust the names and ranks on their uniforms. He had been renamed John Rodgers and he had been given a promotion to Major, quite the leap considering last time he had been in uniform he had been a Sergeant First Class. But Beale had explained that he wanted no doubt in anyone's minds that John was in charge. Given the fact that several of the men had trouble responding to their names for the first couple of days, John was pretty sure he wasn't the only one using a new alias.
During introductions, John had gotten the feeling that most, if not all the men, were like him. Former special/covert ops who had been offered a deal they couldn't refuse to accept an extremely dangerous mission. He suspicions were confirmed one morning on an early run when he was joined by "Sergeant Ruiz," a Hispanic man in his late twenties of average height with a shaved head and barrel chest. They had chatted a bit, when Ruiz had asked, "Why are you here?"
"I get my life back," John replied simply. "You?"
"My wife was brought here illegally by her parents when she was three. She gets citizenship."
"Good reason to fight," John said, thinking of Joss.
"Yeah," Ruiz replied. That was the last they spoke of it.
At night, alone in his cold bed, his thoughts would turn to Joss and Taylor. He missed Joss cuddling up to his side. He missed the tickle of the silk scarf she wore over her hair at night on his cheek. He even missed her hogging the covers.
He was counting the days till he could see her again. Even though she said she didn't need a piece of paper to prove they were committed to each other, she and Taylor deserved the full commitment. He would do whatever he had to get back to them. Back to his family.
Joss was surprised when she found an envelope on her desk. "Take tomorrow off" the note on the outside said. Inside there was a boarding pass for the 10am shuttle to DC. She knew who it was from even though it wasn't signed.
The next morning as she stepped off the plane at Reagan airport and exited the secure passenger area, she immediately saw the agent in the standard CIA black suit and white shirt waiting for her. "Welcome to D.C. Detective Carter, please come with me," he said briskly. He did not introduce himself. Joss rolled her eyes and followed him.
A black sedan with heavily tinted windows was idling at the curb outside the terminal. The CIA obviously did not believe in color. The nameless agent opened the back door for her, and she slid in. He climbed into the front seat next to the driver and the car pulled smoothly away into traffic. The ride was completely silent. Joss was dying to ask where they were going, but she knew better than to ask questions. The agents didn't offer any information.
The drive was short. To Joss's surprise they entered a side gate at Andrews Air Force base. The guard took one look at the driver's ID and waved them through. The car turned towards a cluster of buildings and a hanger that was located quite a ways away from the rest of the operations on base. The agent got out to open Joss's door as soon as they stopped in front of one of the unmarked buildings. Joss climbed out of the car and, with a nod towards the agent holding the door, entered the building.
Inside, the building had that musty smell of disuse. Joss found herself in a plain room with a few desks scattered about. Seated at one of them was Beale. He shut his laptop and stood up. "How was your flight?" he inquired politely.
"Fine," Joss replied. "I was surprised to get your message."
Beale smiled and cocked his head. "I know you think I'm a monster, but I do know what John needs. And that is you. This mission rests on his shoulders, so what he needs, he gets."
"They're leaving for Afghanistan soon, aren't they?" Joss asked.
Beale shrugged. "You know I can't say anything."
Before Joss could reply, John walked through the back door wearing fatigues and his hair shorn into a standard military cut. Joss took one look at him and was across the room in two steps, flinging herself into his arms. She buried her face into his neck. She squeezed him hard, not daring to speak quite yet. John wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He laid his cheek on top of her head and closed his eyes, drinking in her familiar jasmine scent.
Finally, Joss stepped back and looked up at him. She raised her hand and ran her fingertips through the almost nonexistent hair at his temples. "High and tight," she said as she choked back tears.
John smiled at her. "No cowlick." She had always thought his cowlick was adorable, but it had frustrated him his entire life.
"John…" she began, but the words wouldn't come.
No words were needed. John kissed her tenderly. "I know," he whispered.
"Time to go John," Beale said.
John glanced over at Beale and nodded. He kissed Joss again. "See you on the other side." He turned to walk back out the door, but he paused in the doorway so he could look over his shoulder at her. He mouthed the words "I love you" and then he was gone.
Joss stood and stared at the door for few minutes as the tears ran down her face. She turned towards the exit, but she paused next to Beale. "Damn you. Damn you to hell," she hissed viciously while looking straight ahead.
Beale, as usual, showed no emotion. "I suspect I'm going there already," he replied evenly.
Joss walked the couple of steps to the door and placed her hand on the door knob.
"Carter, he'll be back. I know he will," Beale said.
Joss turned to him as she swiped at the tears. She nodded, then ripped the door open, walked through, and slammed it behind her.
The agent waiting outside the door wisely did not comment on her show of temper. She got back in the car without word and was once again driven in silence, this time back to the airport. She used the time to bring herself under control so she wasn't a blubbering mess on the plane. She had no doubt that John would be leaving US soil within the hour.
She arrived home a couple of hours later. Grateful that Taylor was at his dad's that night, she made a beeline for the bottle of wine sitting on the counter. She was going to need a glass or two to get through the night.
Two days after Joss got back from DC, her mother Alice was on the phone, laying a guilt trip on her for skipping church for the last six months. Joss's church attendance had been sporadic at best since she had returned from the war. Between having to frequently work weekend shifts and raising a son who was involved in several extracurricular activities, come Sunday her priorities would often lay elsewhere.
Truthfully, Joss wasn't quite sure how she felt about God right now. Between the war and her job, Joss had spent too much time immersed in the worst the world had to offer, and her relationship with the good Lord had been on shaky ground. Then six feet two inches of blue eyes, knowing smirks, and advanced weaponry skills had blown into her life and declared she wasn't alone. In a dark, dirty alley, as she writhed in pain on the hard, wet ground, she discovered that maybe the world wasn't such a lonely place after all. Now, with the source of her new found optimism overseas on what was basically a suicide mission, she thought that maybe it was time to get right with God.
Sunday found Joss in the same church where she had grown up. Her mother had been a member here since before Joss had been born. She had been christened here. She had sung in the choir here. Her father's funeral had been here. As she sat on the same miserably uncomfortable pews where she had squirmed as a small child, she looked up into the face of Jesus on the giant crucifix and prayed harder than she had ever prayed in her life. She prayed to God to protect a very good man and return him home safely. She prayed for the success of his mission and that he would get the life he longed for. She prayed for the strength she would need to hold things together while he was gone. She wasn't sure if it worked, but she did feel a tiny bit less alone.
As she exited the church, she shook hands with the pastor. "It's been a while, sister Jocelyn."
Joss knew better than to offer excuses. "I know, pastor. I'm sorry."
"Will we see you next week?" He asked as he peered over his spectacles at her.
Joss smiled. "I think so."
John finished his meal and leaned back against the rock wall. One thing he didn't miss about his military service was MREs, but they did beat scavenging for food from the dumpster behind a NYC diner. Barely.
He glanced around him at the rest of the strike team. As was the way of special ops and CIA operatives, this was not a talkative bunch, for which he was grateful. Small talk was not his strength.
He gazed up at the starry sky. After living in the city for so long, he had forgotten just how brilliant and beautiful the stars were. Once he got home and married Joss, he would like to take her somewhere when they could stare up the stars together. John was fully aware he didn't exactly have the soul of a poet, but he would love nothing more than share this spectacular sight with her.
His thoughts turned to Joss. A quick check of his watch told him it was approaching noon in New York. He wondered if she was getting ready for lunch, or if she would be working through the meal. He hoped she was eating right. She ate too many meals off the hot dog cart outside the station. He wondered if she would watch a game with Taylor tonight. Maybe they would order Pad Thai. Or pizza. He wondered if she would do housework tonight as she danced to Mary J Bilge.
He closed his eyes as an unexpected wave of loneliness washed over him. This was a new feeling for him, he'd never had anyone to miss before. He'd gone on a few missions in the few short months he had dated Jessica, but he had been able to lock his feelings for her away in little compartment in his head and keep them there until the mission was over. He had not felt this hollow feeling in his chest since boot camp.
He would see Joss again. He would return to her. He would never leave her again.
As the days stretched into weeks, everyone tried to keep Joss's spirits up. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate Fusco springing for game tickets for her, Taylor, Lee, and himself, or the expensive selection of teas from Finch, or Shaw taking her out for a steak. She loved every single one of them for their thoughtfulness, but trying to pretend that there wasn't a John shaped hole in her chest was exhausting. Sometimes she just wanted to curl up into a ball and be left alone to wallow in her loneliness.
One afternoon after work she found herself wandering aimlessly in the neighborhood around the 8th precinct. She had powered off her computer, wished Fusco a good night and exited the building intend to get in her car and go home. But as she approached her sedan, her steps slowed. Taylor was at his dad's, so there was no reason for her to go home. She was all alone.
She walked past her car and kept going down the street. She didn't have a destination in mind, she just couldn't face going home to a cold, dark apartment.
Before she knew it, she found herself turning down the street where John's loft was located. She entered the building and took the elevator up to the fifth floor. She unlocked the door to the loft and stepped inside. She paused remembering the first time she had been here.
In contrast to the smooth operator Ian Murphy, John had been nervous, shy even, but he had been determined to give her a better experience than Ian had. Joss had thought it was adorable. He had fixed her salmon cooked with basil butter over a bed of mushroom rice pilaf and lemon pepper asparagus. He had even made her chocolate mousse for dessert. Joss had loved it, not just because it was delicious, but because it was something John had done it just for her. It was genuine and heart-felt. She wasn't just another conquest to him. She'd never felt so special.
She walked to the middle of the room and stood there, looking around. The place was immaculate, as always, but despite the fact John spent more time at her place then he did here, there were a few touches of him scattered through the place. His set of weights were neatly piled next to the desk. One of his suit coats was hanging on the back of a kitchen chair. There was a picture of the two of them cuddling on her couch that Taylor had taken a few months ago sitting on the nightstand. Joss picked up the picture and looked at it with a smile. She'd had no idea he had framed it.
Joss set the picture down and wandered to John's Closet of Chaos as she had jokingly called it. She opened the doors and tuned on the light. A tiny smile graced her face, this closet always amused her, it was so very JOHN. She idly ran a finger along the barrel of the Barrett rifle as she thought of all the lives John had saved with this gun. Her finger had a tiny bit of dust on it, and she knew John never would have let his guns get the least bit dusty if he were here. She grabbed a cleaning cloth and carefully dusted the weapon until it would have passed inspection by the toughest drill sergeant.
She exited the closet and walked over to the windows. Looking down at the park she saw Mr. Han was there, as always. Joss wondered if she could get him to tell her about how he and John had escaped from China after the Ordos debacle.
Deciding she just wasn't up to hearing about one of the oh so many times John had cheated death right now, she walked over to the bed and lay down on it. John's scent enveloped her. She turned her head and inhaled deeply. She wrapped herself in his comforter and lay there for a while, thinking of the day John would return.
Joss finally forced herself up off the bed. She carefully remade his bed and then opened the door. She paused and took one last look at the loft before she snapped off the light and left, locking the door behind her. It was time for her to stop mooning and go home.
Joss drove to her townhouse expecting another lonely night alone. As she opened the door the scent of salmon cooking in basil butter tickled her nose. She froze, her eyes wide and her mouth open. A tear rolled down her cheek. Then she dropped her purse and keys on the floor and bolted for the kitchen.
John was standing in front of the oven, removing a baking dish filled with perfectly cooked salmon fillets. His tan was darker than it had been last time she had seen him, and he was a lot thinner, but he was wonderfully, gloriously ALIVE. While Joss stared, not quite believing he was finally home, he set the dish on the counter and took off the oven mitts. He turned to her with a smirk. "Hello, Detective," he purred.
With a cry, Joss flung herself into his arms.
John held her so tightly she thought he might crack one of her ribs. She was OK with that because he was there, not in some cold cave in Afghanistan. He was warm, and breathing, and in her arms, and she was never letting him out of her sight ever again.
"I told you I would come back," John's soft voice murmured in her ear.
Joss lifted her tear stained face from his shoulder. "You always keep your promises."
John gently brushed away her tears. "I had a lot to come home to. I was motivated."
"The camp?"
John nuzzled her temple. "Destroyed."
"You get your life back!"
"That reminds me," John said. He stepped back, and dropped to one knee while holding both her hands. "Marry me, please."
Joss opened her mouth to speak but no sounds came out. She shut her mouth took a deep breath and nodded vigorously. On about the fifth nod she finally found her voice. "Yes! Oh… yes!"
John was on his feet and grabbing her up into another suffocating hug, with her feet dangling several inches off the floor.
Beale kept his word. The day after John came home, a package arrived at Joss's apartment containing a copy of John's military file that no longer listed John as Killed in Combat. Instead it showed John as retired after putting in his twenty years. Also in the package was a Silver Star, several other decorations, and a hefty check for back pay. Finch ran a scan and reported back to John that his death certificate and fingerprints had been scrubbed from the system. His past in the CIA was gone. John Davis lived and had been given a new start.
He wasted no time in making Joss Carter Joss Davis. A couple of months later they were wed in an intimate ceremony with family and their small circle of friends in attendance. Taylor was her Man of Honor and looked quite dashing in his tux. Finch was John's Best Man. Fusco, Shaw and Root where there as well, and Root even managed to get Shaw into a dress.
John was nothing short of magnificent in his tuxedo. He had retained the tan he got in Afghanistan and gained back some of the weight he had lost overseas. His tall, lean body was perfect for formal wear.
Joss wore a body hugging white lace dress embellished with crystals that showed off her hourglass figure. When she walked down the aisle, the look on John's face made the whole separation worth it just so she could experience this moment. It was a memory she would cherish for the rest of her life.
The reception was catered by the top caterer in the New York, much to Shaw's joy. Root looked on indulgently as she ate her way through the alarmingly large steak Finch had ordered for her. Everyone else had much smaller filet mignons. Though, if someone asked John and Joss what they had, they probably wouldn't be able to say, as they were too busy making eyes at each other.
The first dance was to Friends and Lovers by Gloria Loring and Carl Alexander. It was an oldie, but John had insisted. "My mom and dad used to dance to it in the living room," he explained. "It was their song." With a smile, Joss had agreed it was perfect. And it was.
She also danced with her son, and her partner, and even Finch. John had danced with Root, but Shaw had given him a look that plainly threatened death if he asked her, so he didn't.
Before Joss knew it, she was on her honeymoon, laying naked in the largest bed she had ever seen in a luxury vacation home in the woods, entwined with a naked John as they stared at the stars through the glass ceiling.
"I forgot how beautiful the stars are," she remarked.
John stroked her hair. "So did I, until Afghanistan." He paused as he continued to stroke her hair. "I would look at the stars and think of you."
Joss turned her head so that she could look up at him. "You did?"
John nodded.
"Well I'm not letting you go again."
"Not leaving."
Joss straddled him. "How about I give you some reasons to stay," she giggled flirtatiously.
John looked up at her, the woman he loved framed by the brilliant stars behind her and his breath caught in his throat. He reached his hand up to cup her cheek.
"You've already given me plenty of reasons to stay," he replied in his soft voice, his eyes shining.
Joss laughed and wiggled, awakening his cock. "I have plenty more! Work with me here!" Then she leaned forward and kissed him. John's hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck, holding her in place so he could slip his tongue into her mouth, but Joss pulled back. "Uh, uh, uh," she purred wagging her finger in his face. "I'm in charge now." Then she wiggled again and watched in satisfaction as John closed his eyes and moaned. With a smile she rubbed her folds along his length as his cock swelled and grew hard.
John relaxed and let his wife have her way with him. He loved it when she was the aggressor.
She took his manhood in hand and lowered her mouth. Her tongue rolled around the head, tasting his salty pre-cum. She heard her husband hiss as she continued to lick him. Then she slowly took the head into her mouth sucking it like a lollipop. She wasn't quite sure how to describe the noise that John made at that point, but it was definitely a noise of pure pleasure. She pulled it out of her mouth with a pop and licked his shaft/cock from the base to the head. When she glanced up at him, their eyes locked. Joss smirked and took him into her mouth, this time taking the entire length while she maintained eye contact.
John watched in fascination as he vanished between Joss's luscious, full lips. He tried to maintain eye contact, but the things she was doing to him made it impossible. His head fell back and he gasped for air as he focused on the feel of her mouth and tongue.
Joss released him from her mouth and swiftly straddled him while he was still blissfully helpless. She lined him up with her entrance and sank down on him until he was completely enveloped within her warmth.
"Oh God," John gasped.
Joss rolled her hips and he made another one of those indescribable noises deep in his throat. Joss set a deliberate pace, slowly moving up and down his shaft. John grabbed her hips urging her to move faster, but she denied him, keeping her movements slow and steady.
John growled in frustration and, with a giggle Joss slowly began to increase her speed. It wasn't long before John reached release and he slammed into her. He held her tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh as he ground up into her. She followed him over the edge screaming out her orgasm not long after.
She fell forward onto his chest, breathing like she had just run a marathon. John wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against his body. It wasn't long before her breathing slowed and deepened, indicating she was fast asleep. John smiled and continued looking at the stars while he held her.
"I won't leave you again," promised the man who always kept his promises.
"You better not," Joss said, her voice heavy with sleep. "I love you, John."
He chuckled. "I love you, Joss."