A/N: Credit to Opheliablack and Impvme for the M word - Miscreant.

As always, enjoy x

Chapter 35: Miscreant

Saturday 29th October 2016, 9.39am, Joss' apartment, New York

Lauryn Hill called it the X-factor; that empty feeling of disappointment and loss when a woman realised the love that hurt would never stop hurting her and the man she loved would never love her as she needed or as he promised. Though Joss had closed her heart to this man over a decade ago, Joss was entangled in a different kind of heartbreak – a vicarious one – that of her son. She woke up with a hangover-style headache where she thought she might be sick if she didn't close her eyes and breathe. John was already gone, he had left while she was still sleeping, and though he was her rock even his hands couldn't massage the feeling away. Like clockwork Evelyn called to ask about her grandson and when she would see him.

"Sunday."

She knew that tone too well. "What's wrong, baby?"

"You were right back then. I should've stayed a virgin."

Being told she was right didn't hold the same victory when her daughter sounded down. "Is Paul up to his usual tricks?"

Joss uttered words she hadn't said in years. "He walked out on us last night."

"On Taylor?"

"No, on John and me."

Evelyn wanted to rush over there but she knew she couldn't fix the unfixable. "I'm sorry."

Joss could feel the tears coming and was mad at herself for letting him hurt her again. "And Tay, he's not himself. I don't want to add this to it."

"That's the problem." Evelyn said, off-the-cuff.

"Ma?"

She made a painful admission. "I hate to say it. But Paul would be a better father without you always giving him a get out of jail free card."

"How?"

"Because he'd have to face his son, and explain why he left when things got hard last night. Instead of leaving the tough conversations and the grunt work to you."

Joss sniffed. Her work phone rang. "Ma, I gotta go. I've been waiting on a break in this case for weeks."

"In this headspace?"

"I'll get it together. It's important." Joss wiped her damp eyes. "And Tay's been hauled up in his room all night, I'm gonna check in on him."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

10.51am, Paul's house, Elmhurst, Queens, New York

Gina thought of herself as a perceptive woman, more tactful than she used to be but no less assertive. When her on-off-on man of almost two years came home 2 hours later than she did the night before, she knew something went wrong at Joss' place. It was written all over his face, dejection and something she couldn't make out – shame. Her dance troupe were in for relentless conditioning as she still wasn't over their second-place trophy but she couldn't leave for the studio without saying something. "Who's Jeremy? He called twice and said he wants to see you."

The name alone was enough to put Paul off his breakfast. Not that he liked oatmeal anyway. "Block the number." He said, barely looking up from his book of Sudoku puzzles.

Who does he think he's talking to? "You gonna tell me who he is?"

He breathed deeply. "My dad. Can you block it? Please."

Besides Lucy, Paul's cousin, and her husband who still lived in Virginia, she hadn't met any other members of his family. It was odd, but then so was Paul, and he didn't talk about his parents so all she knew was his mom passed away years ago and it was messy. "Okay, but he wants to see you."

"I don't know how he got my number…Lucy." He made a note to talk to her about that – again – because he didn't want his father in his orbit let alone his home.

Her conscience tugged at her. "What if it's something serious? He could be sick or something."

"I don't want him here. Not near me, not near you, and not near Taylor either. Just trust me."

"Okay. I'll block him."

He was finally able to look at her. "Thanks."

She sat at the table even though she knew there'd be traffic. "You gonna tell me what happened last night?"

He gave her the condensed version. "I could've gone to jail."

"You and John fighting over Taylor, again?"

He shook his head. "Jackass."

"How's he doing?" He shook his head again with his eyes closed. "Okay, when's he coming over here?" Her question was met with silence. "Paul. Look at me." That was the last thing he wanted; for another woman to read into him and tell him things he already knew and didn't want to hear. He didn't want to but did eventually. "I don't ask for much; just that you treat me right, support my team and keep your word."

"I do."

"You said, nothing and no-one would ever come in between you and your son again. That's a promise. So why are you?" She asked, before she fished her car keys out of her oversized purse. "I have to get these girls together, can't have them embarrassing me." She kissed his cheek. "Do the right thing, black man."

1.52pm, Tom's Diner, New York

For a former sex worker, Jolisa McRae looked more like a 40-year-old soccer mom than a 29-year-old biracial woman who had seen things she wouldn't forget for multiple lifetimes when she was sex trafficked for a decade by a man she thought was her boyfriend. In the last 2 and a half years since she faced solicitation charges and a lengthy sentence that would've put her daughter Ruby in foster care, she had been an informant for the NYPD and had a knack for finding homeless people. Joss tried not to crinkle her nose from the stench of a man whose skin and clothed hadn't touched water or soap in months. Impetigo formed blisters around his mouth and Joss couldn't bring herself to shake his hand. "This is Elmer. I had to tell him about the hostel to get him here."

Joss noticed he was rolling a cat's eye marble in his left hand. "Hello Elmer. I'm Detective Carter, NYPD. Before we talk I want you to know that your meal's on me, and I managed to get you into a hostel on Bell Street 'til Tuesday. If you don't want to talk, the offer still stands. What I'm saying is-"

"She's not bribing you for information." Jolisa filled in.

Elmer nodded in agreement because he trusted her. "I'd like the special with mackerel instead of bacon. And two coffees with three sugars no cream. "

"You watching your figure?" Jolisa asked, to warm him up.

"You know I'm a pescetarian."

Joss sat back and observed their banter, thinking Elmer might trust her more on a full stomach, and her mind drifted to her son who didn't want to come out of his room.

7.11pm, Sweetest Sting Boxing Gym, Harlem, New York

Because he was privy to the disagreement at Carter's place and understood Paul's position of having someone else muscle in on his son, Fusco resolved not to bring it up with John and just to focus on the match between Frankie and his opponent. From a cop's perspective, the money that exchanged hands didn't prove anything conclusively not even match-fixing. In John's eyes Frankie was more like him than he ever imagined. After putting down a holding deposit on the place that was fit for his wife, watching Frankie's agility, speed and focus was the second highlight of his week. The kid has talent, that was certain, and his uncle spurred him on from the side of the ring. He almost lost sight of the fact Frankie was a number. Almost. The bell had barely rung for the third match when Fleetfoot Mac turned into a Tasmanian devil and jabbed his opponent in the back of the head leading to an immediate disqualification. It wasn't a question the poor kid would fall to his feet, but after 10, 20 then 30 seconds he showed no signs of getting up. Or movement.

8.03pm, 8th Precinct

Joss finished typing up her additions to her report, with Elmer's useful observations that gave her a lead on a known sex offender whose record she had 'acquired' with the help of a bird-named friend. As she made headway on a case that was worse than being benched, she couldn't help but notice Noguerra was zeroing in on her again. Though he was convinced some local teenagers had taken his dog as a prank and would return it promptly after he made idle threats at the next homeowner's association meeting, he couldn't help but think the carpet incident was personal. As nothing had happened since, he was guarded and invited her to talk in his office.

"How are things, Detective Carter?"

"Fine, Captain." She still didn't trust him, after all, he had more pictures of himself in his office that his own family.

He scratched his chin. "What are your aspirations here?"

"Aspirations?" She repeated.

"To climb the ranks, head up a department…" He prompted.

"Honestly, my greatest aspiration to see my son walk across the stage in his cap and gown." With peace of mind, better company and a father who can handle the pressure.

He understood because he was a parent too. "And for yourself?"

She didn't trust 'casual' conversations because in the workplace there was no such thing. Not for her. "Excuse me, but I haven't prepared for my annual review."

He noticed she wasn't sitting, even though he was. "You could have a bright future here, Carter. If you invested as much time cultivating relationships as you do on your caseload."

"I'll bear that in mind." The only thing on her mind in that moment was if Janelle could squeeze in a deep condition and blow dry before the beauty shop closed.

"I'm on your side, you know."

Joss believed him as much as she believed John wasn't causing mayhem in that very moment. "Of course. Captain."