A/N

More introspection awaits for both Carter and Reese in this chapter, and we meet a new OC. Hope you enjoy.

***Disclaimer - I own nothing you see here.

Carter pulled at the lapel of the crème coloured coat she wore and fastened the belt at her waist. Underneath it was a pale gray sleeveless cowl-neck top, and she'd decided on a pair of fitted dark pants that tapered into her new boots. Which were quite fashionable, if she did say so herself. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this girly. The opportunities to be this dressed up in her profession were few and far between, but this afternoon she had a good reason. She was meeting Amelia for lunch at a restaurant just a short drive away from the clothing store she'd stopped in. The place was high end and attracted the wealthy, so Carter's jeans and t-shirt wouldn't have been appropriate attire.

Her yield from the doctor's bank account was a little over $800 US dollars, more than enough to purchase a new outfit before she went to meet her friend. She and Amelia Belka were literally worlds apart, and their backgrounds differed greatly. Fate brought them together when Carter and some of her men had stumbled upon Amelia during a rescue mission. Her captors were enemies of her husband, an affluent Senator, and sought to make him pay for new legislature he'd supported. She'd gained Amelia's lifelong gratitude, and in the process she also made a friend.

They'd kept in touch over the years, and Carter never thought she'd ever have to call in any favours until the night before, when she found herself in a city she'd never been in and had nowhere else to turn. Carter didn't like the idea of driving to the heavily guarded estate that Amelia shared with her husband, and according to her friend, they were hosting a dinner party that evening. Amelia had arranged to have somebody deliver the keys to an apartment she owned in Krosno, and promised they would meet the next day.

When Carter got to the restaurant she checked herself out in the mirror of her compact and dabbed a little bit more powder over the bruise on her left cheek. The makeup had done a good deal to conceal the marks on her face, but they weren't entirely invisible. She groaned inwardly, thinking about the questions she'd have to dodge over lunch.

The maitre'd met her at the entrance of the restaurant and escorted her to Amelia's table. Amelia stood tall in high-heeled shoes, she was dressed impeccably, and her long dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders. The smile she greeted Carter with was accompanied by a fierce embrace. But it quickly died on her lips when her very observant self didn't miss the bruises no matter how hard Carter had tried to cover them up.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I can't talk about it," Carter replied regretfully.

She appreciated the concerned look on Amelia's face, but didn't elaborate any more. Instead, she focused her eyes on a drink menu. The waitress took their orders and Amelia requested a bottle of champagne, a choice that made Carter balk. It was just past 1pm, a bit early for bubbly.

"That means it's about work. I'd have been furious if it had been because of some man."

"Please." Carter rolled her eyes. "You know me better than that."

"I do. And I remember you being a much better soldier. How'd you let this happen?"

"I said I can't talk about it. Besides I need to thank you for helping me out on such short notice. I really appreciate it."

Amelia waved a hand in dismissal and shook her head.

"It's the least I could do. I owe you my life. I'm so happy to see you. What are you doing here in Krosno?"

Carter remained tight lipped, shaking her head in answer. There wasn't much she could tell her friend, if anything about why she was here.

"Something else you can't tell me? I don't remember you being this secretive even though you were in the SEALS."

The waitress came back with their bottle, and though Amelia was temporarily distracted while she sampled a glass, she would not drop the subject.

"You are still in the SEALS, aren't you?"

"Amelia, what part of 'I can't talk about it' are you not getting?"

"Just answer me, yes or no?"

"The short answer is no, but I am not able to tell you anything else. I'm sorry."

Carter hated to be less than forthcoming and so rigid, especially when Amelia had given her a place to stay on such short notice. She realized now more than ever, that she would never be in a position to talk about her job with anyone anymore. Besides, how could she begin to put into words what had happened to her for the last four and a half days? Nobody would believe it, or begin to understand it even if they did.

"A secret job that has you all black and blue in the face is not one that I think that I like. Maybe you should quit."

Carter huffed out a laugh.

"I'm serious. Quit, and stay here with me. I'll find you a nice, handsome, young lover to worship you while you drink champagne all day."

Both of them laughed, but Carter knew that that type of lifestyle would never suit her.

"If only it were that easy. But…there's no way for me to turn back now, even if I wanted to. And….there is somebody that I…" She stopped mid sentence, but decided not to finish.

"No, you don't get off that easily," said Amelia, reaching for her hand across the table and held onto it. "I've never seen that look in your eyes before. Tell me about him."

There wasn't much Carter could say about 'him'. 'He' was as mysterious as they came. Still she managed to lay aside her anger and talk to Amelia about the kind look in his eyes, the one he concealed so well behind brooding looks and only came out in very rare moments. When it did rear its head, it was accompanied by his smile. The one she spent all night thinking about, despite the strength of both the whiskey and her anger, which - though it was still hot - was not burning quite as brightly as it had the night before.

They spent most of the afternoon together, ate lunch and spent some time walking around in some of the expensive boutiques that Amelia regularly patronized. Despite Carter's protests, she insisted on buying a dress for her that she'd never in a million years be able to afford, and the shoes and jewelry to go along with it. She had no idea where she'd ever wear it, but she couldn't deny that the soft Kelly green fabric looked amazing against her skin. As she gazed at herself in the mirror, she was stunned by her own reflection. By the time Carter got back to the apartment building, her arms were laden with an assortment of newly bought clothes and shoes.

It was almost seven o'clock and the sun was starting to set. The bags were the first things she unburdened herself from as soon as she got inside. She let them slip from her fingers, and they landed with a soft thud on the ground. She rolled her eyes and let out a sharp breath in disbelief as she saw the shadow of an all too familiar figure on the couch out of the corner of her eye. She flicked the light switch on, and her brown eyes stared at two blue ones across the room.

"Is this going to be a regular thing now? I come home and find you sitting in the dark waiting for me?"

"I wanted to check on you."

"Well, we established last night that I was fine."

"Obviously you are," he said, as his eyes travelled over her from head to toe, taking in her outfit, makeup and her overall appearance. "Did you have a date?"

Carter wasn't ignorant to the possibility that he could have followed her today. He could have put a tracker on her somewhere, or he could have shadowed her every move personally. Either scenario was feasible, but right now he wanted to hear from her own mouth where she'd been, or who she'd been with.

"I spent some time with a friend."

His eyebrows rose at the reveal, but she wouldn't go any further. Much like their conversation about Wilson's demise, it was his time not to push her to go on. Instead, he got up from the couch. The move was successful in showing just how much presence he commanded. By merely standing up, he was trying to establish dominance in the room.

He wasn't outfitted in his suit tonight; instead he wore dark jeans and a dark polo shirt. Both of them accentuated his long, lean, legs and strong arms, the ones she'd seen in the SEAL practice gym and in bed back in Williamsburg. If she were a lesser woman, she'd be intimidated - or turned on - even though he had yet to speak another word. But she was not a lesser woman.

"Do you have any idea how angry I am at you?"

"I think I can imagine, yes."

"Do you have any idea how angry I am at myself? I trusted you. I usually have really good instincts, and I thought I could trust you. I was prepared to die without giving up anything about Reznick. Nothing on where I came from, or who I worked for. I'd already resigned myself to die….but then they mentioned you…and even though I knew there was no way they had both of us in custody, I figured I had to get out to at least find out if it was true."

He looked away from her gaze, past her shoulders. It was as if he was contemplating what to say. When he finally allowed himself to look into her eyes again, it was the same look he had the night he told her about Jessica. He looked vulnerable and…terrified.

"I should have warned you. I should have said something Joss, but I couldn't. After I told you about Jessica, it was difficult for me to be in the same room with you. I wanted to leave. I was….afraid."

"Of what?" she asked, confused.

"Of who I am around you. I have so many names, been so many different people, most days I don't know who I am anymore. But that night, I was….me again. Someone I hadn't been for many years. I understand if you don't want to work with me anymore, I do. I do understand."

He started to move closer, closing the gap between them, something she wished he wouldn't do. The expression of his regret coupled with his thinly veiled admission of how attached he'd become to her so quickly shook her.

"But if you do stay, just know that I do have your back. You can trust me…and…I am your partner."

She knew he wasn't lying. He didn't have to at this point. Which made it all the more harder to stay angry with him, and that made her angry at herself. Both of them had been placed in an impossible situation by Snow. If things had been reversed, would she have done the same thing he had? She wasn't sure, but she knew that now there were a great deal more things she'd need to factor into her decision to stay.

"And besides," She looked up at him as a mischievous smile crept across his lips. "I don't want you to do to me what you did to Snow."

She couldn't help but laugh, and she let out a full-bodied one despite her sore muscles groaning against the movement. He shrugged and laughed along with her, and the mirth travelled all the way up to his eyes. They practically lit up. There was his smile again, the one she could never resist.

"How's he doing?" she asked, not that she really cared.

"Sporting a few bruises here and there, but unlike you, he can't cover it up with makeup. He avoided quite a bit of curious questions today."

"Good," she said, enjoying the fact that she'd caused him at least some measure of discomfort and embarrassment. She continued to smile. "Well you can relax. Most of my initial aggression was worked out on Snow, so you should be safe. For now, at least."

"Good," he said, and looked at the shopping bags on the ground at her feet. "Been shopping I see."

"Well my trip here wasn't supposed to last this long, remember? I had to grab a few essentials."

"You come into some money we don't know about?" His eyes travelled around the room, indicating the lavish apartment that cost a couple hundred thousand dollars to buy. The labels on the bags were expensive.

"Took some money from the doctor at the safe house on my way out. And luckily, I had a friend in town who owned a vacant apartment."

"How'd you become friends with Amelia Belka?"

"So you were following me."

He gave her a sheepish look, his eyes admitting to him keeping tabs on her, but he didn't respond.

"I saved her life a few years ago. She owed me a favour, so she let me stay here."

"Her husband's a pretty powerful man. He's the right kind of person to have in your debt."

"So I've heard. I've never met him personally."

"Hmm…"

His hands were twitching at his sides, his fingers moved against his denim covered leg. He'd done a little to inject some humor in their conversation, but something else in the air was potent. She didn't know how much longer he could keep his hands to himself, and she wasn't sure she could control her response to him. She busied herself with unzipping her boots and kicked them off. She bent to pick them up along with the bags and meant to take them in the bedroom, telling him she'd be right back. She didn't count on him following.

The bedroom was large, with a high ceiling, but he seemed to take up a lot of the space. Or was it that she was just so aware of him? She prided herself on always being able to keep a clear head, but for some reason whenever she was near this man, it seemed to be impossible. He advanced toward her, standing entirely too close for her comfort and she pulled the bags close to her chest to put any possible space between them.

"John." When she called his name he stood still and looked down at her. "Look, I appreciate you being honest with me about everything. While I'm open to forgiving you for what happened, I'm not ready to just…whatever else it is that you want right now…it's not happening tonight."

Though he'd followed her to the bedroom, having sex with her was not on his mind at that moment, John thought. He simply wanted to be near her. He was glad at least that she showed there was a possibility that he could regain her trust. That meant more to him right now than anything else. He figured that enough had been said for one night, anything else could possibly shatter the new foundation that had just been established, so he decided to leave.

He nodded his head and saw relief flood her eyes. On impulse, he touched her cheek lightly and planted a quick kiss to her forehead. With her hands full and not expecting the gesture, she stood immobilized and did nothing more than close her eyes. He looked at her mouth, lightly covered in pale lip gloss and wanted nothing more than to taste their fullness. He took a step backward before he gave into temptation, and dropped his hand to his side. She needed more time and he would give it.

"Goodnight, Joss," he said, and left without another word.

The next few days seemed to go by quickly. Soon it was the end of the week and he was more than a little anxious when Snow summoned him to the safe house one afternoon. Carter was there and the tension between her and Snow was thick. She told him that she'd continue to work together with him and with Reese, but that she would not tolerate any further games or deceit. She'd more than proven herself to the both of them and felt she'd earned at least that.

Believing that she was ready for their first real assignment together, Snow agreed. Reese was glad that she'd returned, glad for the opportunity to work with her, and pleased that she hadn't chosen to stay away from him. She looked at him and nodded, an indication that not only was she ready to work, but she was ready to put the past behind them and move on.

Snow pushed a folder in their direction and they looked at photos of a man and his wife. He was tall, over six feet, Caucasian with black hair. His wife was stunning, a dark beauty, but though she was smiling in the photo, it didn't quite reach her eyes. They were an interesting match, Carter thought.

"Klaus Berger is your target. Forty three years old, German, lives in Montenegro. He's a banker and terrorist financier. He's holding his annual poker game and we're going to arrange for Reese to be one of the players."

"He's a financier and he's holding a poker tournament? Is he in some kind of debt?" Carter asked.

"It's been rumored that he's lost some of his clients' money. The tournament could be a way for him to win back some of those losses, but that's not what we're concerned about right now. We need to get close enough to him to gain access to a briefcase that is secured in a safe in his bedroom."

Snow looked up at Carter and she tilted her head to the side thinking she'd be the bait.

"I know what you're thinking Carter, but no. Klaus likes…couples, good looking ones in fact. But he's partial to interracial couples, particularly those where the wife is African American and the husband is White."

Snow showed them photos of Klaus in the company of a few couples, some over dinner, in elite clubs, and some in particularly compromising positions.

"What does he like?" asked Reese with his voice low.

"He likes to watch. He likes the women strong willed, opinionated, but submissive and dominated in the bedroom. I'm sure you two will figure out a way to get in there, get what we need and get out. Our only objective is the briefcase and what's inside it, everything else is secondary."

"And what is inside it?" Carter asked. Her curiosity was piqued.

"That information you don't need to know. Once you get it, you deliver it to a contact at the Bay of Kotor. After you've dropped it off, you head to Rome. I'll meet you two at the safe house there. Reese is going to meet Berger at his estate in two days. You'll follow him at the end of the week."

"How long are we expected to stay there?" Reese asked.

"Long enough to get the briefcase. Berger's having a two week celebration of his wife's birthday, but you're not there to party."

"And how does the wife feel about his misogynistic tastes?" Carter asked.

"According to what I see here Carter, she's got some pretty twisted tastes of her own. She's a pedophile. Pia Berger likes young boys," Reese answered, and he handed her a photo of Pia with a boy who looked to be no older than fifteen.

"Go over the information together, your backgrounds, so your stories properly coincide once you get there."

Carter took an 8x10 envelope Snow handed her, and looked inside at the contents. There were passports for her and Reese, credit cards, bank cards and every possible document needed for the perfect cover. At the bottom of the envelope were wedding bands and Carter held them in her hand looking at the expensive diamond on her 'engagement' ring.

"Time to say I do," Snow joked, and left them alone in the room. His chuckle could be heard as he closed the door.

"So who are we supposed to be?" Reese opened his passport, looking at the name inside. "Hmm, Mr. and Mrs. John Tadic. Apparently I'm of Croatian descent. And you're…"

"Still Jocelyn," she replied, taking a peek at the information in her passport.

She held up a birth certificate, then another document and studied them both.

"Although…I was born in South East London…and raised in Washington D.C. My parents David and Marcia Palmer were from Jamaica."

Reese took the envelope from her hands, and put them along with the other documents on the table beside them.

"You can do this, Carter. You're ready," he assured her.

Carter smiled back.

"Well, Jocelyn Palmer," he said, taking her left hand, "Will you be my wife?"

She eyed him sideways and looked at him skeptically.

"Come on, it's time to get into character. The sooner we start practicing, the better."

She couldn't suppress a smile any longer and she nodded her head. "Alright, alright. Yes, John Tadic, I will marry you."

He slipped the diamond encrusted platinum band onto her finger followed by the engagement ring with a solitaire pear shaped diamond in the centre. She stared at it for a few seconds before she slipped his wedding ring onto his finger as well.

"So…I guess we're married now."

Carter couldn't help but think how silly it all was, but in just a few short days she'd be required to think and act as if she were this man's wife. The thought of it sent a sudden shiver through her. But maybe the thought itself wasn't responsible. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her right at this very moment.

"I think…." She started to speak, but his hand touched the side of her face and she couldn't finish.

"I wanna kiss the bride, Joss."

Before she could argue he bent his head to kiss her, and whatever protest she might have had died on her lips. His mouth wasn't insistent, but soft and sweet. just enough to make her long for a little bit more than the tender touch of his mouth as it moved over hers. She put her hand over his, and when their lips parted he kept her fingers linked with hers at his side.

"I'm sorry, Carter," he whispered as his forehead touched hers. "I'm truly sorry."

"I know," she replied. "I forgive you."