Chapter 5: Dream Come True

Reese spent the next two days pretending to eat burnt pot roast and soggy vegetables. Posing as a long lost relative from Omaha, he discovered that two venomous sisters were scheming to dispatch their future sister-in-law. Convinced she was a gold-digger, they planned to poison her before their 72 year old baby brother could announce his engagement to the rest of the family on Christmas Eve.

Since the young woman was a gold-digger and was also hedging her bets by carrying on with another elderly gentleman, it was easy for Finch to manipulate their respective financials. Believing she was marrying the wealthier man, the young woman eloped with 'Plan B' a few hours before the sisters were able to carry out their plot.

As Reese slipped away from the aborted celebration, the bottle of poison safely in his pocket, he saw the dejected brother being comforted by the woman the sisters preferred he marry.

"They didn't have to poison her, Finch," Reese said as they shared a quiet drink in the library early that evening. "She would have been dead of starvation or a blocked intestine by New Year's."

"And the next potential Mrs. Wells?," Finch asked.

"Has been eating dinner there every Sunday for the last 20 years," Reese said as he put on his overcoat.

"Presumably she has an iron constitution that should serve her well, especially if she ever loses the sisters' favor." Harold gave one of his rare smiles. "Have a good evening, John."

"You too, Harold."

During the time he was in the library, a light dusting of snow cast a quiet spell over the city. Reese had not spoken to or seen Joss since that morning along the river - he needed to see her, if only for a moment. Moving quickly, he reached the church just as Joss' family approached the front steps. He saw Taylor first, carefully escorting a dignified matriarch, her left arm linked in his. Joss was a few feet behind them, holding hands with two plump identically dressed toddlers. She looked happy and relaxed, her laughter carrying across the street to where he stood, partially concealed by a van.

The sounds of the holiday concert were beginning in earnest and he watched as Joss cajoled the toddlers up the steep steps. He imagined her on Christmas morning, first saying a silent prayer for her late husband, then quickly rousting her sleepy teen out of bed and off to a whirlwind of family and friends.

She'd stop by Fusco's for a moment, keeping the car running, so he wouldn't feel obligated to invite her into his wreck of an apartment. A last bag of toys would go to the local precinct for the annual holiday drive. They'd pick up a few elderly guests, carefully loading their contributions to the feast in the trunk. Finally they'd reach her mother's house, full to bursting with people and food.

Taylor would stoically accept the hugs and kisses of all the women there, secretly thrilled at the attention. Joss would speak with every person, sample every dish, ooh and aah over every photo. She'd easily deflect a married man who'd clumsily try to kiss her in the pantry, both pretending that his lapse was just a stumble over a case of bottled water. Arms up to her elbows in suds she'd hand wash her grandmother's china, biting her tongue when her mother recounted for the millionth time her embarrassing junior prom date.

She'd drive the elderly guests home, at first refusing, then finally accepting a few crumpled bills for gas, when she saw how important it was to them. Taylor would remind her about the after Christmas sales – she'd give him her patented glare, then surprise him with what he wanted that evening at their apartment. Her eyes would mist over when she saw the little boy and the man he would grow to be in his eyes as he hugged her.

Lastly she'd open the box of scarves, run her fingers through the luxurious fabrics, hold them against her face in front of the dresser mirror. Before she went to bed, she'd carefully put them all back, giving the red scarf the place of honor in the center.

As she stepped into the church, Reese hoped that she pause for a moment, sensing his presence, but of course she didn't. Whispering, "Merry Christmas, Joss," he slipped away into the shadows.

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"I brought you Christmas dinner." John took a large tote bag from Joss' arms and ushered her into his apartment. She had on a leopard spotted Santa Claus hat which clashed wonderfully with her black velvet evening coat and sleek stilettos. Tilting her head, her eyes travelled from his mussed hair to his bare feet. "Lost your dry cleaning tag?"

Reese had spent Christmas day alone, indulging himself by not shaving and lounging around in an old t-shirt and drawstring pants. "Everyone has an off day, Joss."

She watched him wrestle the contents of the tote into his refrigerator. "I bet that when Batman relaxes it's in a smoking jacket and slippers."

"Batman has Alfred to pick up his dry cleaning." Crossing the room, he stood close to her. "I thought you were spending Christmas week with your family."

"This was the third day of togetherness and after my cousin Gabriel's twins threw up – for the second time – everyone agreed that we all needed a break. We'll get back together tomorrow afternoon. Taylor's at his friend Jake's house, my mom's having an all-night gossip fest with my aunts and I decided to visit you." Her voice softened. "I didn't get you anything for Christmas."

He straightened her hat. "So besides enough food for a month and this stylish chapeau, you brought me something else?"

Her eyes were as dark and luminous as they were that morning by the river. "Me."

The world stopped. There was no Machine, no numbers, no reclusive genius or bad cop trying to redeem himself. No demons, no lost loves, no regrets. He didn't have to ask her if she was sure or tell her that he couldn't remember the last time he'd been with someone. There was just her, and he realized as he pulled that ridiculous hat off her head, letting it drop on the floor, that on this winter night, she'd also brought him peace.

Joss started unbuttoning her coat, but he caught her hands, pulling them away. "It's bad form to unwrap someone else's gift, Joss. If you're my Christmas gift, I get to unwrap you, and," he grinned, "I'm going to take my time."

She raised her eyebrows, then slowly lowered her arms, giving him a slow answering grin that made him want to take her right then and there.

Not yet, not yet.

He ran his fingers over her sleek up do, pulling out the combs, listening to them clatter as they bounced across the room. Her hair smelled like cinnamon and chocolate as he splayed it across her shoulders. Instead of her usual silver hoops, she wore long gold earrings. He took them off, suspecting by their weight that she had sacrificed comfort for style. Her throaty sigh as he caressed her earlobes confirmed that he was right.

Not yet, not yet.

Her evening coat had just one big button at the collar. As he opened her coat, he saw it.

The red scarf was tied in a bow around her waist.

Taking a deep breath, he ran his fingers down her arms to the hem of her sleeves. Slowly he tugged the coat off, letting it pool at her feet. She had on a simple black silk sleeveless wrap dress that showed off her curves perfectly without flaunting them.

Their eyes met and she raised her arms slightly away from her body.

As he pulled the scarf free, her dress fell open, revealing a sheer red bra and panties, her beautiful dark brown nipples making a bid for his attention that his mouth and hands ached to fulfill. He slipped the dress off, opened the front clasp of her bra. Pulling it free by the slender straps, she gasped as the fabric ghosted across her hard peaks, arching her body towards his.

God, not yet.

Kneeling, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of her panties, gently drawing them down her legs. As she stepped out of them, her scent wafted from her sex. Almost succumbing, he wrapped his arms around her thighs, pressing his cheek against her tight curls. She ran her fingers through his hair. With a deep growl, he released her, lifted her feet one at a time and removed her shoes.

He ran his fingers slowly up her legs and arms as he stood up. Cupping her face in his hands he kissed her hair, her earlobes and her eyelids. Finally he pulled her into his arms and he kissed her lips, kissed her thoroughly and deeply, kissed her if not with a promise, at least with a hope.

When they drew apart, her eyes were full of tears. Touching his cheek, she nodded. He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Throwing off his clothes, he lay down next to her, their limbs and tongues intertwining. As their bodies drew together, he gave her breasts the attention they deserved, worshiping them with his lips and tongue while she writhed beneath him.

He drank the elixir between her thighs and only after she cried out, once, twice, three times, he entered her.

Yes, yes, now.

Go slow, he thought, wanting to make this last, but her hips were undulating against him and she felt so good that he began thrusting faster and faster inside her. As she throbbed around his cock, pulling him in deeper and deeper still, he exploded, shuddering from head to foot, his hands convulsively clutching her hips.

He tried to roll on his back, afraid of crushing her, but she wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him close, and they lay that way for a long while the next day began.

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"Did you try the macaroni and cheese? It's fantastic." The kitchen counter was littered with a random selection of food – ham, turkey, stuffing, salad, baked beans, sweet potatoes, cheesecake - from the containers crowding Reese's refrigerator.

"You ate it all, Joss."

"I did?" Clad only in one of his white shirts, the red scarf pulling her hair back in a ponytail, she peered into the refrigerator. "What about the mince pie?"

"You ate that, too."

She opened another container. "There's fruitcake."

"The MRE* of holiday foods? I'll pass."

She grinned. "When the world ends, the only survivors will be cockroaches, Cher and fruitcake."

He watched her as she rooted around in the refrigerator, opening and tossing the contents of a few containers out – apparently she had sampled every dish at her mother's. Pulling out two more beers, she shut the refrigerator door with her hip. She placed the beers on the counter and as she reached for the bottle opener, she saw the way he was looking at her. Coming around the counter, she stood in front of him, meeting his gaze.

Reese leaned back on the couch. He slowly spread his legs, his erection tenting sharply against his thin drawstring pants. In the dark early hours of the new day, half naked, with two days growth of beard and his desire clearly evident, he knew he looked dangerous, predatory, primal. He wanted her to see it, wanted her to see how much he wanted her.

Joss slowly unbuttoned his white shirt, her eyes dark, searing into his. She knelt next to him on the couch, taking his face in her hands. Slowly and deliberately she drew his face against her right nipple, rubbing against his hard stubble, hissing as it bruised her soft skin. He sucked her nipple and she gasped at the twin sensations of pain, followed by pleasure. She did the same thing with her left nipple, watching him as he suckled it. He moaned aloud at the thought of her sitting in some sedate family function that afternoon, shutting her eyes for a moment as her breasts first prickled, then tingled with the memory.

Wanting to mark her even more, he closed his teeth against her right nipple, tugging on it and worrying it, while his tongue danced against the tip. He did the same with the left nipple and then he bit it, hard. She shouted his name, her hips twisting uncontrollably as he held her.

She traced his mouth with her hand, parting his lips, but before he could claim her fingers, she kissed him, drawing his tongue out slowly with her teeth. Her lips trailed down his body and she slid off the couch kneeling in front of him. He raised his hips and she pulled his pants off. Firmly grasping his cock in her hands, she brought her lips around the straining head. He untied the red scarf, watching her hair spill over his thighs, and as her hair, mouth and hands enveloped his cock, licking, sucking, biting, gripping and swirling around him, he almost sobbed at how good it felt.

"Joss…," he finally was able to form a coherent word, letting her know he was close. She straddled him, taking him into her heat. He was frenzied now, raining kisses over her face and neck, while he pounded into her body. He wanted to possess her, wanted every man she met to know that she was taken, that she was completely, deeply and utterly fucked on a regular basis, wanted her nipples to harden at the sound of his voice, wanted her to come when he spoke a single word, softly, late at night over the phone when he couldn't lie beside her.

She took his face in her hands again and he kept his eyes open as he came.

Dazed, they stumbled to the bed. Reese pulled Joss into his arms and she curled around him. He watched her sleep as the sun rose.

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In the end, Joss didn't keep them all. She couldn't walk around the precinct in a series of designer scarves, without someone eventually asking questions.

Ten were donated anonymously to St. Sebastian's soup kitchen where they were the highlight of their spring auction.

One went to her mother, an extra special gift for a milestone birthday.

But she kept the red scarf, wearing it often and sometimes she'd purposely leave it at Reese's apartment, as a promise that she would return.

*MRE – Meal Ready to Eat, rations for the US military. As an example, they can last up to 5 years at 50 degrees F/10 degrees C.