A/N: Thanks for sticking with me on this story. Life is still keeping me from writing as much as I would like.
Although Blair had 'agreed' with her mother's doubts and, feigned offense at Jo's suggestion that the heiress "Wear my helmet, while we slip out the back", she had to admit that the brunette's plan worked. A couple of reporters had called out to the detective as they passed by on Jo's motorcycle but, none of them suspected that she - Blair Warner Wellington - was the mystery woman on the back. The full coverage helmet, an NYPD jacket, and, Jo's idea to put the blonde's hair in a ponytail, had hidden Blair's features from prying eyes.
The heiress was now in a place she never thought she'd be again - on the back of Jo's bike, her arms wrapped securely around the brunette's waist, riding through the streets of New York. Knowing Jo was in total control and would keep them safe, Blair let her mind drift back to the days when the two would take long rides on the roads that wound through the hills around Peekskill. The blonde couldn't help thinking that they were some of, if not the happiest days of her life. Blair slightly tightened her grip and snuggled a little closer to Jo's back, trying to stave off imagining other women who may have ridden with Jo since those days.
Jo was relieved that she and Blair had gotten away from the police station with only a little fuss. She had been pretty confident that they'd make a clean getaway, although a couple of reporters had called out to her as they rode by. One guy had asked about "The woman riding on the back," but, since they were all fairly used to seeing Jo with a 'passenger,' they simply grinned knowingly at her reply of … "You know how it is guys…adrenalin rush of being shot at" accompanied by a wink and nod at the woman sitting behind her. If any of them remembered anything about Jo's past, she doubted they would connect her to Blair.
No, the only reporter who actually knew how well the cop and the heiress knew each other, would soon be less than thrilled with the brunette. Jo was so caught up mentally trying to formulate answers to questions she'd soon have to answer, that she winced slightly at the pressure on her wound when Blair squeezed her a bit tighter.
Jo had almost been able to ignore the feeling of the heiress sitting behind her, nestled against her back. 'Almost' being the key word. None of the other women who'd been on the back of Jo's motorcycle ever 'fit' with her the way Blair had. Sometimes, Jo felt she was cursed, or, at the very least, that it was a cruel twist of fate that the blonde's body seemed to be the only one that melded perfectly with her own. Jo couldn't help but to think back to how amazed she was that, after Blair's initial hesitation and anxiety on their first ride, the heiress would eagerly take her place behind the brunette on later rides. Blair would even go so far as to make up excuses for Jo to have to take her somewhere. Every time, she fully put her trust in Jo to keep them safe, as they rode as one with the blonde nestled against the brunette's back - much like she was now.
Even though she knew Blair was wearing a full helmet, Jo swore she felt the heiress's breath tickle her neck and it sent a familiar shiver through her. Snap out of it, Polniaczek! Jo mentally scolded herself. She needed to remember that this was a job. Nothing more. Whatever had happened in the past was just that….the past. Jo let out a small sigh and focused on the road.
Moments later, Blair felt Jo's body shift and the motorcycle slow down. Looking up, she saw the brunette had pulled into the entrance area of the YD Inc. building's underground garage. Seeing the guard in the booth, and the way he was eyeing them, made Blair confused and a bit uncomfortable. Surely Jo didn't expect to be let in? The blonde's confusion turned to surprise, when Jo nodded at the man and he slid the gate back for them to pass. However, it was when Jo continued on to a lower section of the garage that it hit Blair. The guard wasn't eyeing 'them'…but…her. The questioning look the guard had given Jo, was about her. The guy in the booth knew Jo! This realization had Blair wondering… how?
Then, when Jo entered the pass code that opened a gate to a private 'mini garage,' and rolled inside without hesitation, Blair really questioned who the detective's connections were. Parked inside the garage area were vehicles that obviously belonged to Jo. There was Charlie Polniazcek's '66 Mustang, which looked to now be in pristine condition; a Harley Davidson touring bike; and, what Blair believed to be, a motor-cross bike. However, it was the other cars that had the heiress thrown and slowly pulling off her helmet to sit stunned and staring. A red 1986 Porsche Carrera, a green 1970's Jaquar XKE and a black 1970 Corvette Stingray took up the other spaces. All of them shone as if newly waxed and they were in beautiful condition. Th-those can't be Jo's Blair thought. But…if they're not, who the hell do they belong to? Then, just as quickly, a queasy feeling spread through the blonde as she wondered if she really wanted to know.
Jo smiled a bit in self-satisfaction at her friend's expression as she nudged the blonde, to remind Blair that she had to get off the bike first. The brunette almost laughed when the heiress blushed slightly and, scrambled, as gracefully as possible, to get off the motorcycle. Despite that, Jo's breath caught, her smile faded, and her pulse raced when she watched as Blair released her ponytail and shook out her blonde mane.
Blair smiled softly, and a bit of the Warner confidence returned, at the expression on Jo's face and seeing how she swallowed hard at the light contact between their fingers as the blonde handed Jo her helmet. Sadly, both smile and confidence faded when, within a minute, Jo turned, got off the bike and moved to place the helmet on the shelf above the bikes. Blair could see that the brunette's cold demeanor had returned when Jo turned back and said "This way."
Jo took a moment longer than necessary putting her helmet on the shelf. She needed that extra minute in order to push away the tingling sensation she'd felt when her fingers grazed Blair's. With her back to the blonde, Jo took a deep settling breath before she turned and directed Blair out of the garage. The brunette then closed the gate and led the way to the elevator just a few feet away. Although the lift was a freight elevator, with the requisite extra wide opening, Jo still indicated that Blair should enter first when the doors opened. While the heiress may have found the act chivalrous, the brunette did it for her own selfish reasons. Once Blair had taken up her position in the middle of the car, Jo stepped in and stood directly in front of the control panel, once again, with her back to the blonde - the spot being as far away from the other woman as physically possible in the relatively small space.
The emotional coldness Blair felt emanating from Jo's posture had the socialite, unconsciously, pulling the leather jacket she was still wearing tighter around her. In doing so, she caught a whiff of the aroma that was pure Jo, and it caused brown eyes to drift down to the well worn coat. Blair slowly opened the jacket, her eyes immediately drawn to the bullet hole in the side, surrounded by a deep red stain. A true chill ran through the blonde's body as her finger came close, but, never actually touched the spot. The bullet could have hit her…or Bailey. She could have died, if not for….
Blair lifted her gaze and stared at Jo's back, as the sights and sounds from earlier flashed through her mind. The one image that stuck, the one Blair wouldn't soon forget, was the look of desperation mixed with fear in Jo's eyes immediately after the shooting - when Jo had asked the blonde if she was hurt. The brunette could say what she wanted, that she was just doing her job, but Blair saw the raw emotion in those beautiful eyes, before they had turned cold again. Blair didn't know why things had gone so wrong between them, why Jo had left her without any reason, but, deep down, she knew that the brunette still cared about her.
After pushing the button for the top floor, Jo assumed her, 'Don't mess with me' stance and stared straight ahead. While it appeared that she was ignoring Blair, it was the farthest thing from the truth. Jo had become quite adept at using the semi-reflective surface of elevator walls to observe what was going on around her. Jo observed Blair. She saw how the blonde's face fell when she didn't turn around to look at her. She saw the way Blair hugged the old jacket to herself and the hint of a smile that formed on soft lips as she pulled it tighter. She saw when Blair opened the jacket - delicate fingers moving to inspect the blood stained area inside, but never actually touching the fabric. She saw the heiress shiver and somehow knew exactly what thoughts were running through Blair's mind. Jo saw it all. However, it was when warm, brown eyes trained on her back, that Jo's resolve nearly broke. The longing, hurt expression on the debutante's face almost had the tough Bronx native turning and wrapping her arms around the beautiful woman who, despite the past and Jo's many attempts to change it, still held her heart. Instead, Jo closed her eyes, willing the urge to go away, then, slowly let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. When green eyes opened again, they saw nothing but the changing numbers on the floor indicator.
Blair had wanted to reach out and touch Jo's arm and get her attention but, hearing the brunette's tired sigh, she merely dropped her gaze and withdrew into herself. With each passing floor, the minutes ticked by slowly. Blair was surprised, when it occurred to her that the elevator kept rising without a hint of hesitation. She looked again at Jo's back and wished the brunette would turn around. However, the detective's stoic demeanor only served to make the blonde feel even more alone. Blair closed her eyes, in the hopes that she could close off the pain in her heart. Why is this taking so long? she thought to herself. She hated the persistent silence during the rest of the ride, that would have been deafening, if not for the mechanized sounds of the lift.
Blair was surprised when the elevator stopped and Jo said, "We're here," over her shoulder as she pulled a key from the control panel. It was only then that the blonde realized that they had ridden all the way to the penthouse floor. As she wondered how it was that the 'poor girl from the Bronx' had this kind of access, a knot began to form in the pit of Blair's stomach. Although it was possible for Jo to own one of the other cars in the basement, Blair was sure that there was no way the brunette could afford this type of apartment on a detective's salary. She thought back to how Jo acted earlier with Finn and Casey. Sure, the dark haired woman had flirted a bit with them both, but, in the end, she'd pushed both of them away. Then, there was the way Jo was treating her. There had always been a connection between her and Jo, ever since they were teenagers. Those around them never understood how two people, who were so different, could communicate without words and always seemed to know what the other was thinking. However, there was now a wedge…a distance…that separated the two women. Whatever it was, it stopped Blair from knowing who Jo was now. Although Blair had seen hints of that wistful look in green eyes that she remembered, and missed, just as quickly Jo would become - indifferent to her. Suddenly, it hit Blair and the knot turned to nausea. The penthouse floor! Blair had heard rumors that the owner of YD Inc. was a woman, but, both her father and Justin had dismissed the idea as absurd. Neither felt a woman was capable of running the fast growing, multi-million dollar company, but Blair did. Jo was taken. Not only taken, but Jo's girlfriend was rich and able to support the detective both financially and, apparently, emotionally. Had Jo changed that much? The girl who wouldn't even let Blair buy a plane ticket, as a gift, so Jo could visit her mother for Christmas, was now letting another woman take care of her? Blair didn't want to…no…she couldn't believe it.
When they stepped out of the elevator, the two women entered a large foyer. Blair had never encountered one associated with a penthouse apartment before. It was tastefully yet, simply decorated.
"Security reasons," Jo said in explanation when she noticed the puzzled expression on the blonde's face as they walked through the large room, passing the main elevator. "This too," she offered, as she used an electronic key card to open the extra wide and, what appeared to be, reinforced apartment door. Following Jo in, Blair's worst fears were realized when the brunette called out. "Honey…I'm home."
In Chicago: "Hey honey," Justin smiled as he spoke into the receiver. "I miss you. I can't wait for you to get here," He frowned slightly before answering. "Yes…I know. It didn't go as planned"….. "What was I supposed to do? Those idiots screwed it up!" …. "Exactly!…In front of a police station no less!" he answered angrily. Justin let out a sigh. "No…I know it's not your fault,"….. "No, not even a scratch," his tone more annoyed than angry. "Some cop named Polnichuck, is guarding her now," …. "Yea…that's it,"…. "Honey….don't worry…I don't care who's watching Blair…she'll be out of the way soon. And, then it'll be me and you…just like we planned."