8 – Jealous

This drabble was inspired by a photo from a 2017 cover story about TPH in United Airlines' magazine for its first-class passengers, Rhapsody. In the photo, TPH is sitting by a half-drained pool, with her eyes closed and her face raised to the sun, dressed in a red gown with a pair of high heel sandals on her feet:

John Reese was jealous of the morning sun.

He was jealous of the way it caressed her shin.

Jealous of the way it trailed across her hand.

Jealous of the shadows it caused as it highlighted her full, deep cleavage.

He was jealous of how it shimmered along her closed eyes.

But most of all, he was jealous of how even though it was millions of miles away, the sun managed to kiss her gorgeously full lips.

He cleared his throat. "It's a little early for a siesta, Carter," Reese smirked as he made his way down the old mossy steps.

Joss didn't open her eyes. "It's been a long night, John. And it will be an even longer day at the 8th when we get these perps booked."

"I know." Reese tilted his head towards the ballroom, where they had a dozen arms merchants tied up under Shaw and Fusco's watchful eyes. "Finch was able to find the other spots where they cached the rest of their arsenal. Shaw and I will secure them, then give you and Fusco an 'anonymous' tip so that SWAT can sweep in and get 'em."

She nodded. "The sooner you guys get that stuff off the street the better."

"We'll take care of it, Detective."

"I know you will." She nodded again. "Thanks."

"No problem." Reese knew he should leave, knew he should let her have this quiet moment to herself, but he walked closer to her. "When was the last time you just…sat…in the sun like this, Carter?"

Joss chuckled softly as she shook her head. "Can't remember. You? Does the 'Man in a Suit' ever just kick off his shoes and relax?"

He couldn't tell her that the only time he relaxed was with her, those moments when they sat in a cramped, unheated car, or in a dingy coffee shop, or on a rickety park bench, that she soothed him in a way that nobody else ever had, even when they fussed at each other, or fought, even when he knew that she was so angry at him that she wanted to shoot him.

No. He could never tell her that.

Reese forced his smirk firmly back in place. "Not part of the job description, Carter."

"Yeah…guess not…" She raised her face even further into the light emanating from his rival. "Why don't you…" her voice lowered, "sit down for a while, John? Rest your feet."

"I wasn't the one running around in high heels all night, Detective." His voice lowered as well. "If anyone needs to rest, it's you, Joss. I'll leave you to it.

Reese turned towards the stairs, but her voice stopped him. "John."

He turned back around.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "Sit down."

Slowly, Reese sank down beside her, letting his long legs dangle over the edge of the half empty pool. Immediately he felt his shoulders relax.

Even though Joss's eyes were still closed, he saw a knowing smile steal across her lips.

And even though Reese knew that Joss couldn't see him, he couldn't help but smile back.

They sat there quietly for a while, then Reese shyly, hesitantly, looked at her feet.

They were like the rest of her, delicately formed, yet strong. He'd watched those feet twirl on the dance floor last night, then kick one of the arms merchants they'd caught unconscious without missing a beat.

He reached out his right hand and touched the strap on her left shoe.

He heard her slow intake of breath as he undid the buckle, then she opened her big brown eyes and gazed at him.

Their eyes locked as Reese pulled the shoe away, laying her slender foot in his lap.

Joss raised her other leg and Reese removed that shoe, laying her other foot in his lap.

He ran his fingers over her heels, then along the arches, then pressed the tips of his fingers into the balls of her feet.

Joss groaned, her head lolling back as Reese began massaging her feet.

Her lips parted, her eyelashes fluttered and her hand clutched the pool ladder as he stroked and tugged, as he memorized every silken centimeter of skin, as he listened to her gasp and moan, wondering what it would be like to touch her ankles, her calves, her knees, to raise that red gown over her head and watch the sunlight flow over her incredible body, before he covered it with his own.

But he couldn't do that.

They were 'just friends.'

With a light flourish, Reese ran his fingers over her toes. "All set, Carter."

There was another slow intake of breath, then she nodded. "Yeah…thanks." Joss tilted her head at him. "Bet you got a few targets to spill in your CIA days with that technique," she smirked.

"I've never…done that for anyone, Joss." He leaned towards her slightly. "Ever."

Her smirk faded. "Oh."

They didn't say another word as Reese helped Joss put her shoes back on, rising to their feet as they heard sirens blaring in the distance.

"You'd better make yourself scarce, John. I bet Sam's gone already."

He nodded. "I'll call you."

Joss took a step towards the stairs, then she stopped. "Thank you."

Reese shrugged. "It was nothing, Carter."

"No, I mean it. Thank you."

She stepped close to him. Even in her heels, she was still so much shorter than him. Reese saw something shift in her eyes, and then Joss rose up on her toes and kissed him.

His hand was shaking as he cupped her face. "Joss…"

She smiled at him, then Joss moved towards the steps again.

Reese reached out and grabbed her, crushing her against his body as he kissed her hard. The sirens grew louder as he kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her temples and her hair.

"John…"

"I know." Reluctantly, he pulled away from her. "I'll call you."

"I know."

With another smile, Joss made her way up the stairs.

Reese watched her enter the old mansion, and then he disappeared in the early morning sunlight.

A/N: What struck me about that photo was that TPH didn't have any nail polish on her toes, so when Reese takes off her shoes for the foreplay, I mean, foot massage, her feet are totally naked. For someone who's seen so little of Joss's bare skin - I can imagine that even when he busts into her home, she stomps downstairs in a pair of old, well worn slippers to yell at him - seeing her bare feet would be incredibly erotic to him!

I also thought that after spending the night dancing with John, being in his arms, that Joss needed that moment alone, not only b/c she was exhausted, but also b/c she was trying to contain her feelings towards him, but in the end, just like Reese couldn't stay away from her, Joss didn't want him to leave either.

The next drabble, Another Room, will be posted on February 27th.