Disclaimer: Credit to Jonathan Nolan, Greg Plageman, and the POI writing team for these lovely characters (though Elena is mine). Any bolded sections come straight from the episodes.

THE DETECTIVE AND MRS. RILEY
To Each His Own


Timeline
Queensbridge Park
• Elena Cassidy's Home for Retired Assassins (ch 3)
• Fusco Meets the Rileys (ch 4)
• Little Mistress Normal (ch 5)
• Drinks (ch 10)
• Detective Darkness and Little Miss Sunshine (ch 12)
• Bear's Collection (ch 2)
• Home Safe Home (ch 9)
• Hell in the Hamptons (ch 13-16)
• Risque Business (ch 20)
• Detective Cassidy (ch 21)
• Bets on Broadway (ch 11)
• Toast (ch 19)
• Friendsgiving (ch 24)
• Shootin' Around the Christmas Tree (ch 25)
• Nicknames (ch 22)
• Man in the Suit and Wife (ch 26)
• TO EACH HIS OWN
• Swingers Cruise (ch 6)
• Knockout (ch 8)
• Ellie with the Pink Hair (ch 18)
• Queen E (ch 1)
• Toxic (ch 17)
• Get to the Chopper! (ch 7)
• Meat Me in St. Louis (ch 23)
Queensbridge Park epilogue

Episode inspo:
[Reese gets into the back of Carter's car]
REESE: Morning, Detective. Miss me?
CARTER: You know, I always pictured you in the back of my car. In handcuffs.
REESE: Well ... to each his own.
— Wolf and Cub (s1e14)


"Oh, your poor cheek!" Elena laments, seeing the cut and livid bruise rising along Reese's sharp cheekbone.

He indulges Elena and lets her fuss over him for the next few minutes, gently cleaning the cut, placing a bandage over it, then holding an ice pack to the spot till her own fingers turn blue.

"I'm fine, El," he assures her, taking hold of the ice pack himself and rubbing her fingers for warmth. "Not the first time I've been hit. Not going to be the last either."

She pouts. "As long as they don't permanently damage your pretty face."

He tries not to look too pleased at the compliment. He fails.

"Would that be a dealbreaker? I remember us saying something about 'in sickness and in health'."

"Didn't say anything about being bruised and ugly," Shaw notes, reminding them of her presence. She's sitting on the dining table, watching the famed international assassin John Reese being babied by his wife.

"Don't worry, you're still gorgeous, Bun," Elena assures him. She places the lightest kiss above his bruise. "Let me fetch some Neosporin for that."

She flits upstairs, and Reese watches her go up with a small smile.

He sighs. "What is it?" he finally says to Shaw, feeling her eyes boring into him.

"You're a sick fuck, Reese."

He can't hide his shock at her pronouncement. "What?"

Shaw gives him a knowing look. "You like getting hit."

He frowns. "It's not really my thing, Shaw, but to each his own."

"It's exactly your thing. You saw that punch coming a mile wide. Hell, I did, and I was on the other side of the room dealing with the rest of those idiots. You could've dodged it, but you didn't. You got hit because you like Cassidy fussing over you."

Reese opens his mouth to object, then closes it again, and considers. Maybe Shaw's right. Maybe subconsciously he'd wanted to get hit so that Elena could fuss over him.

"I knew it!" Shaw crows. "You're a sick fuck."

"Actually," Elena says as she flits back down the stairs. "He's an amazing fu—"

"Elena!"

Reese's other cheek goes as red as his bruised one. His face can't seem to decide if it wants to look shocked or pleased or embarrassed.

Elena winks at him as she pats some Neosporin onto his wound. "There!"

"You're not going to kiss it better?" Shaw snarks.

Elena smiles. "Oh, I'll do more than kiss it better." She takes his hand and leads him up the stairs. He goes quite willingly. "Good night, Sameen!" she trills.

"Come on, buddy," Shaw finally says to Bear. "We're going for a long walk."