All of You – Chapter 2
The next nine days were full of good food, long walks, tons of music and taking care of things around the brownstone that Joss had wanted to address for a very long time.
They cleaned out the cluttered shed in her back yard, planted bulbs and pruned the scraggly bushes back there.
They sanded and painted over the 70s wood paneling in the basement, put down heated tiles, somehow managed to assemble furniture that had instructions that would have stumped even Finch, and created a family room down there, complete with a sleek media center, in the now bright, warm and cheery space.
They added shelves in Taylor's bedroom.
They turned the alcove off the dining room into an office for Joss, wrestling a roll top desk that had belonged to her grandmother in there, and then added French doors that would close off the space when Joss wasn't using it.
The attic, which had served as a playroom for Taylor when he was little, and was now full of cast off and broken items, was cleaned out, painted and turned into an exercise and craft area for Joss, with a barre bar on one wall and space for the full-sized quilt frame that had been crammed in her bedroom.
Joss laughed out loud and applauded when Reese did a graceful pirouette after they installed the barre, and he listened, rapt, when she explained how African American women stitched symbols into quilts, providing guide marks, warnings and places of refuge and help for those traveling the Underground Railroad to freedom.
They hung her completed quilts in the halls, the living and dining rooms, the new family room and finally in her bedroom, while Reese's hand slowly trailed across the gorgeous, dark red, deeply tufted quilt that they draped on top of her bed.
Joss proved a willing, if not particularly able, sous chef while Reese prepared and froze what seemed like a month's worth of meals that would make Joss' return to work a little less hectic.
But mostly, they just talked, at first about little things, then slowly about the things that mattered, things that neither one had spoken about, even to themselves, for a long, long time.
It felt good, Reese thought, to use his muscle for something other than beating up bad guys.
It felt even better to talk, and to listen.
And it felt the best of all, to spend this time alone with Joss.
While he had always admired Joss' beauty, freed of her staid pantsuits and bulky vests, dressed in simple t-shirts and jeans with her thick dark hair falling free to her shoulders, Reese couldn't help but notice her long legs, full breasts and that incredible ass.
He found himself looking for glimpses of her smooth brown skin when her t-shirt rode up on her torso as she lifted items over her head, giving him a flash of her taut stomach, and he cursed himself for hoping to catch a hint of her deep cleavage when she bent over to take care of something.
On more than one night, Joss had cried out as the horror of what she had seen filled her dreams, and Reese would rush into her bedroom, silently wrapping his arms around her and holding her, until her tears and tremors stopped, while he tried not to focus on how soft her skin was, how good she smelled, and how her luscious curves molded perfectly to his lean frame.
He cursed himself even more as the days passed and the nightmares ended.
She was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous, and Reese found himself reacting like a randy teenager, shielding his lower half behind a plank of wood, or a piece of furniture, so that Joss wouldn't notice his all too male reaction to her.
He'd fall asleep in Taylor's narrow bed, only to gasp awake with the evidence of how much he wanted Joss splattered across his belly and thighs, while the intensely erotic dreams that consumed his nights slowly faded away.
Rising to his feet, Reese would slip into the hall bath to clean himself up.
He'd stare at Joss' closed bedroom door for a long moment, and then with a deep breath, and careful, deliberate steps, head back to Taylor's bedroom, knowing that the dreams would begin once more when he finally drifted off again.
And while Reese kept telling himself he was imagining it, he knew that Joss was looking at him, too.
Her eyes would linger on his hands and mouth, and out of his Man in a Suit uniform, dressed in polo shirts and jeans, Reese would catch those big brown eyes watching his biceps as they flexed when he picked up a heavy object, her gaze drifting down his chest and stomach, when he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow, and the quick flicker of her eyes darting away, when he'd catch her checking out his butt.
And now, on their last day before Joss returned to work, Reese had spilled solvent all over himself because he was mesmerized watching her climb a ladder, instead of watching what he was doing.
Joss shooed him inside, telling him to get the noxious liquid off his body right away, while she cleaned the spill up.
He hurried into the hall bath, stripped off his clothes, and stepped into the shower, but then Reese realized he'd have nothing to wear when he exited the room.
Wrapping a towel around his lean hips, Reese stepped into the hall to go into Taylor's room to grab some clothes, when Joss, her arms laden with towels, came out of the master bedroom.
"I thought – you - extra towels…" she stammered, then her voice fell silent.
Reese watched her big brown eyes run up his wet, glistening body slowly, and then even more slowly back down again, like he ached for her hands and her lips and her tongue to do, until he cried out her name over and over.
They stood there, in the narrow hallway, staring at each other, until Reese, muttering his thanks, jerked his body forward, snatched the towels out of her hands, and rushed back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
'Just a few more hours' Reese told himself, as he now let ice cold water run over his overheated body, and things will be back to normal.
'Liar', a sneering little voice inside Reese crowed, as he stepped out of the shower and looked at himself in the mirror, 'you're a fucking liar.'
"Yeah, I am," he murmured as he gazed at his reflection.
As Reese got dressed and gathered up his soiled clothes and towels to put in the wash, he heard a song playing that he hadn't heard before.
How many times do I have to tell you?
Even when you're crying, you're beautiful, too
The world is beating you down, I'm around
Through every mood
You're my downfall, you're my muse
My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues
I can't stop singing, it's ringing
In my head for you
He stepped out into the hall, closed his eyes and listened.
Cause all of me loves all of you
Love your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections
Give your all to me, I'll give my all to you
You're my end and my beginning
Even when I lose, I'm winning
Cause I give you all of me
And you give me all, all of you
The song faded away as Reese slipped downstairs and put the items in the wash.
As he closed the washer lid, Reese sighed.
While he knew that Joss was grateful that he'd been there for her, and he knew that she wanted his body, Reese didn't want her gratitude or her lust.
He wanted her, all of her.
And he was stunned by how much he wanted to give all of himself to her.
When he came back upstairs, another song was playing. Joss stuck her head out of the dining room. There was something in her eyes as she gazed at him, but then she smiled brightly. "Last night. I thought we'd eat in here."
After his first night there, they'd eaten their meals on the couch, casual, relaxed, close.
Tonight, they would be formal, polite, apart.
"Sounds good," Reese nodded, as he headed to the kitchen.
XXX
After dinner, they settled on the couch.
Reese couldn't help but smile when Joss pulled out a small, fabric covered notebook from a end table drawer.
"Dear, Diary – Another day without shooting John…"
She gave him that look. "Nah, it would be like one of those old factory posters: 'Days without wanting to shoot John' – and there'd be a big fat zero there," but then she smiled at him and opened the notebook. "My dream book when I bought this place."
Joss had photos of what her home had looked like when she bought it, notes on what needed to be done, and then more photos and notes of her progress fixing it up.
"You did a hell of a lot, Carter," Reese nodded, as they flipped through the pages, "refinished floors, stripped wallpaper, replastered, even," he smiled, "did some plumbing and electrical work."
"The house had been neglected for years, but the neighborhood and the schools were good, and," she smiled, remembering, "it was what I could afford, just barely. I didn't even have two pennies to rub together, forget about two nickels, so I had to learn, and do, most of the work myself."
"What did Taylor think when you first moved in," Reese asked, as he turned back to those early photos. "This place was pretty rough."
"Oh, I kept tellin' him that we were on a series of adventures – first, that we were campin', when the fuses blew out and we didn't have any electricity for a week, then that we were explorers, when I hacked through the bushes, while his little hands weeded in the overgrown back yard, stuff like that, so he didn't realize how broke I was."
Reese nodded. "He told me how you both 'rescued' the plants in the front, when we planted your Mother's Day tree last year."
The teen had laughingly told Reese how a group of hapless hijackers had stolen, not the truckload of electronics that they envisioned selling for big bucks, but instead a truck full of plants bound for a big box store. Joss had discovered the abandoned cargo of now withered and mostly dead plants that the hijackers had thrown about in fit of embarrassment and rage in a deserted old factory site while walking her beat.
The store's losses were covered by insurance, so they had no interest in the stolen cargo. Taylor and Joss had painstakingly examined each plant, picked out the ones with the best chance for survival and nursed them back to health.
Those now glossy and robust plants formed a thick, lush and colorful display in their front yard that was the envy of the entire neighborhood.
Now every year, with his own money, Taylor, who had developed a keen interest in horticulture, would add a new plant to the dazzling array for Mother's Day.
"Yeah," Joss chuckled, flipping to a photo of an absolutely filthy mother and son that had been taken by an obliging passerby as they dug through that cargo. "We were washin' off dirt for about a month after diggin' through that mess, but it was worth it! I also told him that we were gonna read all of the books on the local library's '1000 Books Before First Grade' and the '500 Books Before Middle School' lists, and that was why we didn't have cable, and that we'd only take the bus when it was too far to walk, 'cause we were doin' a virtual walk across America."
"How did you do that?" Enthralled, Reese asked, as he leaned towards her.
"We had a map in his room, that covered a big hole in the plaster, and every night, we'd calculate how many miles we walked that day, what 'places' we 'visited' on the map and how many more miles we had to go before we could 'dip our toes' in the Pacific Ocean."
"Sounds like you made it fun," Reese smiled.
"It was," Joss nodded, "for both of us, and we even visited for real a bunch of those places when Taylor got older, including," her eyes shone at the memories, "the Pacific Ocean. Once I got the basics done, I had this whole checklist," she flipped to the back of the notebook and unfolded a neatly typed up chart, "of all of the other things that I wanted to do. Got a bunch of 'em done, but then…"
"I know, Detective – time, life, got in the way…"
'And 'whatever this is', he thought, remembering all of the time and effort that Joss had taken away from her life and career, to help a 'dead' CIA agent and a reclusive billionaire who'd been wanted by the feds for decades.
"Yeah," she nodded. "Taylor's gonna be off to college soon, and while this will always be his home," Joss looked off in the distance, "I want this place to be a little bit more about me now," she turned and gazed at Reese, "you know?"
"Yeah, Joss, I know."
"Thank you, John," she said softly, "for everything. Not just for being here now, but before, when I…"
Reese raised both eyebrows. "You saw me?"
"No," she shook her head, "but I sensed, I knew you were there, John, that you'd let me…fall…but not so far that I couldn't get back up, like a..." her eyes now had a soft glow in them, "guardian angel. I'll always be grateful to you for that."
"Anytime, Joss," his voice was just as soft, "you know that."
Their eyes met and held, but then Joss smiled brightly, pulled out the pen that was stuck in a little loop of silk ribbon attached to the spine of the notebook, and handed it to him. "You should do the honors, John."
"You sure, Joss?"
"Yeah," she smiled, "I'm sure. Your 'backwards' checkmarks," she smirked at him, referencing how since Reese wrote with his left hand, his checkmarks went to the left instead of the right, "will remind me of all the stuff we did together."
"Since I think with the right side of my brain; it's everybody else who's backwards, Carter," he smirked back.
They shared a wry glance, then carefully, Reese checked off the items that they had completed. As he put the pen back in its loop, he noticed that there was another flap underneath the list. "What's the PITS, Carter?"
Joss chuckled as she unfolded it. "That's my 'Pie In The Sky' list, stuff that I'll probably neva be able to do, like buy the lot next door."
The home that had been there had burned down decades ago, and now the site was a dumping ground full of blackened and twisted rubble, rusted out appliances, rotted out tree stumps, several abandoned vehicles and mounds of trash.
Reese nodded. "Off street parking, a garage and a garden."
"Yeah, and I'd expand the living room and kitchen – I might even learn to cook in there –" her eyes twinkled, "add a deck, replace all of those ugly old shrubs and clumpy old trees in the back, unbrick the fireplaces in here and in the master bedroom, stuff like that."
"You never know, you could finish the list, Carter," Reese said softly, as he envisioned himself helping Joss clear that lot, building the deck, teaching her to cook, and then making love to her on top of that gorgeous red quilt while a fire cast a warm glow over their naked, entwined bodies in her bedroom.
"Yeah, I guess that's why I keep holdin' on to that list. Ya gotta have dreams, right?"
"Right, Detective, right."
Their eyes met and held again, and then, turning the PITS list back under, Joss bent her head and ran her hand over the list of items that he'd checked off. "Looks like we did a year's worth of stuff in nine days."
"We're a good team, Carter."
Joss kept her eyes on the notebook. "Yeah, we are."
Without looking at him, Joss closed the notebook, slid it back into the end table drawer and shut it.
Raising her head back up, she tilted her face teasingly at him. "You cook, clean, fix up old houses, do a mean pirouette and save people's lives. Is there anything you're bad at, John?"
Their eyes met and held once more, and then Reese reached out a trembling hand and cupped her cheek.
"Staying away from you, Joss."
Joss covered his hand with her own. "John…"
"When you're ready, Joss."
"And if I told you," she whispered, "that I'm ready now."
Every cell in his body was screaming for Reese to sweep Joss off her feet, carry her into her bedroom and make love to her until the sun rose, but he slowly shook his head.
His hand stilled as he gazed at her.
"I want…all…of you, Joss. I know I shouldn't, but I do."
Rising to his feet, Reese went into Taylor's room and the hall bath, and packed up his stuff.
As he went to the front door, Joss said his name.
"John..."
Reese heard so much in that one word:
Desire.
Need.
A plea.
He paused, his long fingers lingering on the doorknob.
But Reese knew he wanted more.
So much, much more.
"Have a good day tomorrow, Detective," he said in a low, firm voice.
There was a cold, hard rain pounding down when he left the brownstone.
Joss stood in the open doorway, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, as she watched him drive away.
And as he turned onto the next street, Reese saw that her door was still open.
A/N: This tale concludes with Chapter 3, which will be posted next Sunday.
