AN: It's been a long week. This was to be posted Monday but maybe I'll post tomorrow too :)

After lunch they had packed up the rental car under John's assumed name of John Warren, that of which had perfect credit, a good job on Wall Street, and a very small social media following. Harold was very thorough in the creation of the alias. Hers was as equally thorough. They both received burner phones, on John's he received some extra apps that weren't included on hers, stuff to force-pair with people's phones illegally, and that were also untraceable so they could use it without worry of being found. Joss was glad since she had a few people she desperately needed to get a call out too. John had left with Leon, Harold's driver, to go dump the stolen car in a deserted parking lot and wiped clean of prints from both of them. Once that was done they could get on the road to their new home for the foreseeable future. They had headed to the Manhattan apartment after Harold had given permission to the security detail to let them in explaining that they would be staying there to 'house sit' for him.

The ride was quiet and uneventful. And once they approached the upscale Manhattan apartment she suddenly realized that their new accommodations were going to be anything but normal. The doorman was pleasant and welcoming as that any friends of Harold and Grace were friends of his. Even the security detail was welcoming. It seemed that Harold and Grace made friends everywhere they went.

John unlocked the apartment for them and pushed the door open for her to enter first. She whistled as she did. Joss looked around the apartment. "This beats out my brownstone and it's a darn apartment that your friends use only whenever they leave the sanctuary of their fortress," she murmured dreamily as she looked around the place. Cathedral ceilings, gourmet kitchen, bathrooms to die for, and just an overall homey feel; everything she wanted in her place if only she could pay for all the upgrades.

John didn't view it the same way she did. All he saw was four walls and furnishings. He took her bags into the master bedroom and set them on the bed. He had already flung his few sets of clothes in the guest room as she took the tour. As he exited he saw her sliding her coat off and his eyes settled on her belly where her son was. There was something altogether poignant of a pregnancy. And there was something about Joss.

Suddenly he needed fresh air and to do something that made it so all Joss needed to worry about was giving birth to her son. Without looking at her he said; "I'm going to go out and get us much needed hardware. If Elias finds us I want us to have a way to defend ourselves other than your one piece," he told her as he moved to walk to the door.

"Wait!" she called out as she struggled to move with the quickness to stop him from vanishing. Knowing who he is, he could disappear with relative ease as he spent years learning how to be the shadows. John stopped at the door to eye her expectantly. "I could come—"

"No." he stated forcefully.

She thinned her lips knowing why, and intellectually she understood, but her pride was making it tough on her. "I can't just sit on my ass."

"Yes you can and will," he ordered. "The whole purpose of coming here was to protect you and you're going to do it."

Anger welled up in her. "I'm not a prisoner here am I, John?" she snarled.

He stepped toward her and his eyes were hard as steel and cold as ice, so why did she feel so damn warm under his intent gaze. "You are not coming with me, Joss. Elias and his men, and every two-bit criminal, knows just what you look like and we haven't a clue as to what they do. They could be standing next to you on the street and we wouldn't know. You're pregnant and you can't move fast, you're a sitting duck, and I'm not letting you or your baby get hurt if that means I have to tie you down to the bed," he offered with faux politeness.

Joss inwardly gaped at how her body responded to the mere image of John tying her down to a bed but instead of leaving her…her mind rather liked the idea of him staying. Good lord, it was uncivilized but for some damn reason it was arousing. She shook off the steamy—and unwanted—image. "Well if you won't let me come at least let me help." she muttered, before turning to move to her things in the master bedroom.

He didn't say anything as she disappeared. John waited impatiently near the door for Joss to come back. And when she did, she held her gun with her. "Here take this with you. That way if somehow someone manages to make you you'll have some protection," she explained as she offered it to him, even though every part of her thought giving a man who was previously suicidal a gun was a very bad idea. But she trusted him not to eat it. She trusted that he wouldn't strand her without protection which gave her enough time to save him from himself.

"I don't need it." he stated impatiently. "I rather you keep it, that way if someone recognized you as we came in you have means to protect yourself." And with that he slipped out the door and disappeared.

Joss locked the door behind him and leaned up against it. She was glad he left because she needed a break from his intensity and his insane sex appeal. "You're a tub, there's no way he can be half as attracted to me as I am to him," she muttered to herself. She looked down at her belly. "Hey kiddo, stop messing with mommy's hormones, she needs this guy's help," she grumbled. When she received a kick from her favorite little man she knew her kid was going to have a wicked sense of humor.

John walked the streets of New York quietly. What a simple haircut and change of clothes did that made him suddenly not unworthy to look at or speak too. He curled his lip in a snarl as a brunette smiled at him. Just a few minutes prior a blond woman had said hello to him as they waited to cross the street together. He bet if both women walked by him previously, as a homeless man, both probably would have looked right through him, maybe even stepping away from him. People, men and women alike, were materialistic and superficial. Well, most people, because Joss wasn't. She had talked to him even learning he was a homeless man and even wanted to help. She had even touched him which had shocked him nearly as much as how soft her skin felt on his.

Instead of thinking about her loveliness he forced his thoughts on protecting her. And he knew just where to go to get the hardware they needed. He needed Anton O'Mara, who he had a run in with a couple months ago, he and his friends thought they owned the subway and proceeded to be a general nuisance. But they were inept and John could use their stupidity to his advantage. They had a dealer who ran guns but he needed to know exactly where and when. And he knew just who he could ask for those much needed answers.

After stopping at the closest liquor store and armed with a pack of Marlboro and a bag of Doritos he headed to the encampment where he used to stay. John smiled as he saw Joan sitting alone with her cart nearby. But he didn't head towards her but rather Roland, who sat in the corner, all by himself because he habitually talked to someone that no one could see. Most thought he was crazy but John saw a man who saw too much and hallucinated a lot of his past. And because everyone thought he was weird and harmless he saw a lot of the underbelly of New York.

John sat down beside him and held out the peace offering that would always get Roland to talk: his pack of cigarettes and bag of Doritos. "Here," he murmured. Roland stirred from his intense conversation with the air beside him to look to John and then what he held. The man's face lit up as he went to snatch them from him. John moving quick, held the Malboro back but gave him the Doritos. "You get the cigarettes when you give me the information," John said.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"I need to know where Anton O'Mara goes to buy his guns," John answered dryly.

Roland smiled giddily as he tore open into the Doritos bag and stuffed four into his mouth at once. John didn't say a word as he waited for him to finish. "Since you brought good stuff I can tell you. It's a bodega in Midtown."

"Where in Midtown exactly?" John pressed.

Roland eyed the pack of cigarettes fondly. "It is the bodega on the corner of West 43rd Street and 6th Avenue. In the front it's a nice market but in the back…holds its secrets."

John smiled, giving him the cigarettes. "Thank you, Roland," he murmured as he stood. And when he did he searched for Joan again, the woman who took such great care of him. He gave her one last long stare before turning to leave. He had some important shopping to do at the bodega. Thankfully it wouldn't take too long to get there.

About twenty-five minutes later, due to traffic and caution by nature, John arrived at the specified bodega. Roland was right, it looked like a normal market. But it was anything but normal as he saw Anton and some of his buddies entering. Well now, this was going to be interesting. John smiled as he entered shortly after them and took a look around. He made a slow progression to the back as he made sure no one was watching him.

As he approached the backroom he could hear a conversation and listened in;

"What about this one, pop?"

"Are you planning on buying that one?"

"I'm just showing—"

The other voice interrupted, "Put it back on the table."

"Have you guys seen the men's room?" John asked innocently enough as he appeared in the doorframe of the backroom. Being deceptively curious could buy him enough time to do a quick profile on everyone in the room. As they stood dumbfounded at him he saw that there were seven of them all gathered around a table of an assortment of guns that ranged from hand held to grenade launchers.

John eyed Anton. "Hey Anton, it's good to see you again," he said knowing that he wouldn't be able to place him. They hadn't really met. As usual John was looked through as a homeless man.

The man in the back that looked like an older version of Anton asked, "Do you know this guy?"

And, as expected, Anton shook his head unable to place him. John let his eyes fall away from his unsuspecting prey to the guns he was about to steal. "That's some pretty serious equipment. Have you guys taken…" he began as he moved toward the table to see how many were packing.

John didn't react other than lifting his hands up a little as everyone in the room produced a gun and aimed his way. One in particular was holding his sideways and John immediately felt let down that this was going to be child's play.

John stared at the boy to his left, the one holding the gun sideways, and decided to teach them a thing or two before he stole their guns. "Take you for instance," he started, nodding towards the kid who eyed him warily. "You're holding that thing sideways; you can't aim and it will eject a shell casing right into your face." he stated, seeing the gun waver just a little. "See!" John lunged for the kid's hand, and fired, and sure enough the casing went right into his face.

He held firmly to the kid's elbow and hand as he proceeded to force the kid to fire at his companions first going for the right and kneecapped the closest to him before instantly shifting to the left to shoot the man that could get close to him, before methodically shooting everyone in the room before they could react. John whipped the boy around who was stunned and pushed him back to shoot him in the knee and watched as the boy fell to the ground in a whimpering mess. Everyone else was writhing on the ground moaning as John turned slowly with the gun still drawn, and with one bullet left, and Anton stood shocked with hands up.

John stared at him making sure he didn't do anything stupid as he settled the gun at the back of his pants. He grabbed the duffel bag while Anton stood there, as the lone man standing, simply watching him collect their guns they were to buy into the bag.

He eyed Anton expectantly. "I'm going to hold onto these while you guys get more practice." he explained before zipping the bag up, as the table was clear of everything. "Have a nice day." he stated before turning to leave. Smirking as he heard someone in the room ask who the hell he was.

Joss was pacing anxiously by the time John got back. It was tough to learn to trust a man she didn't know and who didn't seem to want the trust. Her eyes widened as he came in with a duffel bag full of guns and clips.

"Geez what did you do rob a gun store?" she muttered as he set it down and she rifled through it to eye the hardware. Joss picked up the Sig Sauer P226 and admired it. "Good stuff but no doubt stolen."

He smiled as she touched the guns as if they were precious gems rather than firearms. "I stole them from the people who didn't know how to use them correctly. It was public service," he commented, a smirk creeping on his face.

She looked at him and sighed. Of course John found a criminal to rob which meant he would have to be careful to show his face now. Joss rummaged in the bag and her brows lifted as she came across a grenade launcher. "Just who the hell were these people?" she demanded.

"Have you ever heard of Anton O'Mara?"

"Him?! Of course I've heard of him. He and his father buy guns to resell them at a higher price and a few of them have come up in my investigations," she growled. "I could never get enough evidence to put them away in jail for long."

John shrugged. "They have been decommissioned, for the time being anyway,"he explained

"How exactly?" she demanded.

"I shot his father and his friends in the kneecaps or shoulders," sounding as if it was no big deal. "I'm sure the only place they'll be heading to is physical therapy."

Joss stared at John incredulously. She knew the entourage that Anton hung with. If he didn't have at least five or six people with him there wasn't one. "Are you ready to tell me who you are?" she asked quietly. John ignored her. He instead headed for the kitchen, needing something to drink, preferably alcoholic, and when he opened the refrigerator he grimaced when all he saw was tea, milk, and some Chardonnay. Joss followed him and wasn't ready to drop it. "Come on John, you just stole guns from people that the police couldn't touch. I know Anton, he surrounds himself with people because the kid can't stand being alone."

He slammed the refrigerator door shut and whirled on her. "Shouldn't you know; I assume that's what you and Grace talked about?"

"Maybe I just want to hear it from you," she suggested, annoyed with him.

John stared at her. A part of him didn't want to tell her. He kind of liked the fact that she talked to him like a normal guy. But the other part, the part that wanted her to fear him, and back off took precedence. "Alright, I'll tell you. I was a CIA agent, recruited into a special task force because I did so well on my exams. But it wasn't the only reason I was recruited into that special division but because I had no family. No ties and if something happened to me, no one to mourn my demise. I excelled at hand to hand combat and understood how situations were to be handled, and I had a high proficiency in weapons of all kinds thanks to my Special Forces days. I killed my targets as quickly as possible and it never bothered me much," he stated, devoid of any emotion, as if he was reciting a dictionary from front to cover.

He paused only for a moment. "I began asking questions about the legitimacy of the orders and my superiors didn't want to answer them. More than a few of our targets were claimed to be terrorists or terrorist sympathizers and the intel was weak. So instead of backing off as they wanted and be the perfect lap dog I began investigating them quietly to learn that Mark Snow, my handler, was selling government secrets to China. My knowledge of his misdeeds and questions made me a liability and I was tagged to be retired."

Joss swallowed hard as he recounted this with so little emotion. "How did this Snow guy find out you knew?" she asked quietly. 'Dead men don't drive' so that meant the CIA crooks had carried out a plot to murder him and thought they succeeded.

John laughed humorlessly. "I made the fatal mistake of trusting my partner, Kara Stanton," he answered coldly. Was there anyone in the CIA that was on the up and up, she wondered. "I told her my suspicions and the next thing I know we are reassigned and told to go to Ordos China to pick up a stolen laptop that held confidential information."

"Did that really happen or was this an elaborate lie to have you off of American soil so they could enact their heinous crime?" Joss snarled. From knowing what Kara did to Harold's friend to now knowing she double crossed John, Kara Stanton had no soul.

"It really happened. Apparently the male Senator was receiving head from a Chinese man to only be found by photogs, and didn't notice that the Chinese man ran off with his laptop case that held government files during a very public embarrassment." John explained. Joss's eyes widened. Oh, she heard about Republican Senator Hills! That had been a scandal of epic proportions. But it was never announced about a laptop holding key government files being stolen, which would have made it an international scandal. "After I received my new assignment was when I got an urgent call from Harold, who hacked into agency with frequency. He didn't want me to go because it was a setup."

"And you still went!"

"Joss, I couldn't let anyone have that laptop. There were genuine confidential secrets that if they fell into the wrong hands could have a lasting impact on our country's safety. I had to go no matter if it was a setup or not," he defended himself with irritation. It was just how Harold had reacted when he said he was still going. "Retrieving the laptop was painfully easy which would have raised my suspicions had I not already known it was a setup. Kara hadn't batted an eye at the dozens of dead Chinese men nor did she seem to find the fact that the laptop was left after the carnage as suspect."

"What happened?" she asked, though dreading it.

"She shot me in the abdomen, not wanting a kill shot, not at first," he uttered quietly and she flinched. "Kara was loyal to the CIA but more so to Snow."

"Why?"

"They were lovers," John said with a shrug.

Joss stared at John. Mark Snow, his handler, and Kara Stanton, his partner, were lovers and they tried to kill him because he found out that Snow was a treasonous bastard. "You're here now…how did you escape with your life?" she asked, truly in need to know how this exceptional man made it out of a cluster-fuck like that, alive.

John half smiled. "Because Mark Snow is every bit of the betraying treasonous bastard I thought he was. And apparently it was more one-sided in his love affair with Stanton, the moment Kara shot me it was a signal for a separate team waiting with a missile to blow up the compound that we were in with the laptop."

"Oh my god," Joss whispered.

"As I leaned up against the wall listening to Kara tell me how they won; I acted on impulse and got the hell out of the compound, just as the jet came closer. Kara had been too shocked that she was burned by Snow to even amount an attempt at escape. I looked back at the compound just as it exploded."

Joss stood still and listened as he described his life in the CIA and his own 'death'. No wonder the guy was suicidal. His country, who he sold his soul for, tried to murder him because he questioned their authority. But he survived, made his way back to only find out the woman he was basically living for was murdered. Talk about a brutal blow.

"And you made your way back after surviving all that to only learn the woman you loved and left behind was dead," she whispered in despair and shock. Joss wished the words back almost instantly as he looked physically struck and anger erupted in his eyes.

"Just what did you and Grace talk about?" he asked coldly.

Joss lifted her chin, not about to be intimidated by him. She did the intimidating. "Well you wouldn't tell me anything and she offered me information as long as I gave some in return," she said defiantly.

The look of anger remained but he didn't speak a word as he brushed past and left her watching him and wondering when she could find out the rest to complete the puzzle that was John Reese.

AN: I loved that scene from the pilot so I had to include it in my story. As you can see I twist and turn everything in POIverse to fit my needs :)