A/N So yes the last chapter was the final chapter. This one however is an Epilogue, because the story still wasn't quite finished yet. In this offering I wanted to tie the story a little more to canon and so we have 2 canon characters show up briefly. We also find out just how Joss and John fared during their separation. Thanks again for all the support of the story. Thanks to Wolfmusic for the much needed input on this last one. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer ~ I don't own POI or its characters.

New York

It'd been over a year since Carter had been back to New York. The last time she'd been on American soil was when she visited her friend Amanda, right before she'd been recruited by Mark Snow. She'd driven past Amanda's house her first night back. She sat across the street for about an hour or so, watching her through the window while she had dinner with her family. She missed her. She missed their closeness, but she realized that the friendship they shared was now a lifetime away. Her old life and that fateful meeting seemed like ages ago, but here she was, standing at the railing in the park overlooking the Queensborough Bridge.

The last time she'd been here, she'd met John for the first time. She'd stared into his eyes and knew from that initial meeting that there was something distinctive about him, and she'd been right. Eighteen months after leaving Montenegro she'd had two partners, but still she often felt as if she was on her own. Emotionally, she was doing better than when they first parted. Their separation had almost hardened her again. Many times she felt the impulse to become cold and dark, to lose herself in the nature of her work. During those moments she'd think of his words about how much she changed him, and she would soften, remembering who she was. Eighteen months of working without him hadn't been easy, and even though she'd adjusted to him not being there, there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't still think of him.

She wondered what was next for her as she waited for Dillinger.

She could hear his footsteps behind her, the gravel sounding underneath his feet. She felt a chill in the air and shivered, pulling the lapel of her coat upwards to provide some warmth. The temperature had dropped dramatically since she'd arrived just two days ago. New York winters were known to be brutal; this one would probably be no different.

"Carter."

"Ethan."

"Where's Murray?" he asked, looking around. "Or do I even need to ask?"

Carter tilted her head to the side at his query about her partner. In their attempt to get into the *DOD facility, Murray had unfortunately been captured. She planted the encryption codes into the software of the servers and fled. She doubted he was still alive. If he was, it wouldn't be for much longer.

"I don't think you need to. But you'll be happy to know that the programme is running as instructed. Clean download, no way to trace it back to the source. Whatever network the Agency wants to gain access to, they should have in a matter of hours."

He turned to face her, and the streetlights shone on his face, illuminating his blue eyes. She turned from his gaze, the hue reminding her too much of another intense gaze that she thought of often.

"Can't say that I'm surprised. Guess it was just a matter of time. That's two partners in less than two years, Carter. I'm beginning to think that you really just want to work alone."

"Or maybe you just need to give me more competent people to work with. That's what we came here to talk about, right? Who are you pairing me up with this time? And where are we going?"

"You are going to Venice."

"Italy," she said, softly, and remembered that she and John would have been bound for Italy right after Montenegro.

"Yes, Italy. There's some surveillance work we'd like you to do."

"Surveillance?"

"Yes, no heavy lifting on this one. Not yet at least," he said, and handed her a medium sized manila envelope. "Details are here.

She opened the envelope, saw a plane ticket inside, and looked up at him after viewing the time.

"If you hurry, you won't miss your flight."

2 Days Later / Venice, Italy

*"The Red Tower, by Giorgio de Chirico"

Carter stared at the painting from a distance as it hung on the wall of the museum. She never claimed to be an art lover or an enthusiast, but there was something about the elements on the canvas that mesmerized her. The shadowed building, the horse and rider, the quiet town, and the red tower that stood at the centre of the frame. She couldn't take her eyes away from it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a woman drawing near, her eyes fastened on the painting too. Silently they both regarded it together, both in awe of the artist and his rendering of the peculiar scene.

"It's like a daydream isn't it?" Carter turned as the woman spoke with an almost childlike reverence. She had kind eyes, an innocent, open face, and flaming red hair.

"It is," Carter said. "It's like…there's something looming in the distance."

"Yes!" the woman agreed, nodding, and her smile lit her face up. "Like something magical is about to happen."

"I wonder what secrets this painting has to tell," Carter responded, and tucked her hand into her pocket. Her fingers moved over the buttons of her cell phone, activating the cloning process for whatever devices the woman might have on her.

"That's what I love about art. It leaves so much up to the imagination and intellect. It can communicate something different to each person who sees it. Convey a feeling, spark a memory, even inspire you."

"You sound pretty inspired yourself. Are you a student, here? A teacher or artist?" Carter asked.

The woman looked somewhat surprised by her assumption and blushed. "Oh goodness, no. I'm just an illustrator. I wish I could paint like this. I do it in my spare time, though. I don't know if I'll ever be as good as Chirico."

"You don't have to be as good as him. You can only be yourself, paint what inspires you."

"You sound just like my fiancé Harold," she said, smiling again. "We're here on a much needed vacation. This is his first time in Venice in a very long time. Mine too actually."

"Oh congratulations," Carter said, and held out her hand.

"Thank you."

"Well this city is probably one of the best places to celebrate an engagement. I'm Jocelyn."

"I'm Grace. We've been meaning to come here for a while, but Harold's such a workaholic, we just never had the time."

"How'd you two meet?"

"It's the weirdest thing," she began, and the look on her face was genuine. She was totally enamored with whoever this Harold was, completely in love, and Carter was intrigued. "I keep telling him that it was fate. It was a cold winter, I was in the park painting, and this guy just walks by…eating an ice cream cone in winter."

It sounded romantic the way Grace described it, Carter could picture the scene clearly.

"He just walked up to me and said hello, and we haven't been apart since. And the rest is history."

"Sounds almost like the way we met, doesn't it honey?"

Carter's heart momentarily stopped at the voice behind her, and though she hadn't heard it in almost two years, she'd recognize it anywhere. She felt his hand slide around her waist, felt him pull her toward his chest, and just like it was yesterday, she felt herself respond to him. He bent his head and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

"This is where you wandered off to," he whispered in her ear before smiling at Grace. "I'm John."

"Nice to meet you, John. I'm Grace."

"It was a cold day too, wasn't it, Joss? We were in New York, both having coffee in a little café one morning. I sat down opposite her, not knowing if she'd tell me to get lost or drop dead, but I couldn't let her walk out without saying anything. My life hasn't been the same since."

"And the rest is history," Grace said, laughing.

"Stop it, John," Carter said, pretending to be embarrassed, but he held her even tighter.

"It's amazing really, Jocelyn. Fate has a way of bringing people together no matter the circumstances."

Grace turned her head, hearing the approaching steps of an older gentleman. He was well dressed, Carter thought, and a nervous smile came to his lips as he realized that Grace was engaged in conversation with them. He wasn't conventionally good looking, and in her opinion, he really needed to rethink the length of his sideburns, but there was something behind his eyes that was genuinely kind. Although Carter noticed an acute sense of paranoia radiating from him, his body language toward his fiancée was open and affectionate.

"Harold, this is Jocelyn and John," Grace said, introducing them. While John shook hands with them, Carter attempted to clone his phone.

"Nice to meet you. Ah, I see you found it." He looked at the painting, then at Grace, smiling. "It's all she talked about on our second date. I promised to take her to see it again one day."

"And you kept your word."

Carter looked up at Reese for the first time since he'd arrived, and she was rocked by the deep emotion in his eyes as he looked back at her. She knew this wasn't the time or place, but she felt overwhelmed by how affected she was by his presence.

"We have to get going," Harold said. "It's almost time for our reservation."

"Right," Grace answered. "We're going to this nice restaurant called Vittorio's, then a tour near the Grand Canal, and then we end it with a romantic gondola ride."

Even though he looked slightly uncomfortable with the reveal of their itinerary, he smiled, albeit awkwardly.

"Well it was nice meeting you both," she said, and waved goodbye as they walked away. Carter watched them go, wondering just why these two were their new assignment. From what she could tell from their brief meeting, Harold was the one with the most to hide while Grace seemed harmless. If something was in fact amiss, she was sure Grace was clueless about it. She'd put all her money on Harold being the one with all the secrets to tell.

However, she was left standing with Reese, and she turned to him feeling unsure of what to say.

"Hey," he said looking down at her.

With his gloved hands on both sides of her face, he smiled, and she felt her heart open up. It was still there; those feelings were still there after all this time. She blinked back tears, smiling back at him, and put her arms around his waist.

"Hey," she said.

He pressed a kiss to her mouth, soft and light, letting his mouth linger on hers. She felt choked up, and emotional, two things she knew she couldn't afford to be right now, but damn it, she didn't care. She kissed him back, fisting her hands into his coat, and felt the emptiness she'd felt for the last few months begin to fill up.

He took her hand and led her outside, and on the street with her hand in his, she felt like a woman again, she felt….like she was just Joss.

"You're my new partner?" she asked, as they walked together.

"Hard to believe isn't it?"

"But why? How?"

"I don't know. I just got instructions to meet my new partner here at this museum."

"What happened to your last one?"

"Reassigned."

"You mean the Agency finally got something right?"

"Well I did hear that you seemed to be running through partners like I did not too long ago. I guess they figured I was the one person most likely to survive while working with you."

"Not my fault they couldn't find someone to keep up with me."

"From what I hear you're making quite the name for yourself too."

"So you were keeping tabs on me?"

She looked at him with a smile on her face, enjoying the banter between them, and the way he was teasing her. It felt like old times, and they'd eased into it with no effort at all. The thought of him knowing what she'd been up to while they were apart warmed her. It meant that he'd missed her almost as much as she'd missed him.

"It's hard not to with the type of work you've been doing lately."

"You almost sound impressed."

"Maybe I am."

"Are you serious with this 'maybe'? I mean not only did I go to London - right after Montenegro I might add - but if you knew what I just did in New York at the DOD…"

"Show-off. Ok, ok, I'll admit - I am impressed."

"Yes," she said laughing. "That's more like it. I mean do I have to toot my own horn, here?"

"No, you definitely don't. Your work speaks loud and clear," he said, smiling in return.

She nudged him on the shoulder. "You've been rather busy yourself though."

"We both have."

"And you're all healed up. I'm happy to…to see you're okay."

"I am okay, Joss. But I did miss you, a whole lot. And I have thought about you, nearly every day."

They rounded the corner at the end of the block, and paused before walking further. She felt at ease, comfortable with him. "I missed you too."

Reese put his hands around Carter's shoulder and she leaned into him, putting her hand around his waist.

He hadn't been entirely surprised to find her in the museum. Unbeknownst to her, he'd still literally kept tabs on her via the bug he planted in her watch. Periodically he'd seek out her location, imagining what she was doing or who she was with. Each time he was sent on a new gig, he'd 'check on her', see where she was. Right before he came to Venice, he'd located her in the city. He wasn't sure she would be his new partner, but the knowledge of her being in the same city and country that he was in after all the time that'd passed, filled him with hope. He wanted to see her again, and he planned to as soon as he got here. Seeing her talk with the redhead he'd been given instructions to follow was icing on the cake. They were going to work together again.

Grace had been right when she talked about fate. He'd never believed in it before, but the chances of them finding each other after being reassigned by the Agency were slim to none. For some unknown reason, they'd been given a second chance, and he planned to take advantage of it for as long as he could.

Seeing her made him realize that the strong feelings he felt towards her weren't merely because they'd been forced to work together and depend on each other. He'd genuinely fallen in love with her, and he still very much wanted her.

For now, however, there was work to do, and while Harold and Grace were enjoying their romantic tour of Venice, Reese and Carter paid a visit to their hotel room. He ran a duplicate key through the lock and watched as Carter put on gloves as she stood beside him waiting. Once inside, they searched through their things, taking photographs of anything of note, and pocketing others items that seemed interesting. Carter planted a small bug on the underside of the drawer on the nightstand. The couple would never notice. They exited the room not long after, leaving it much as they met it with no trace that they were ever there.

Later in his apartment, they both sat together in the living room, going over what they'd found and Carter waved a business card in front of him.

Harold Wren, Software Engineer, IFT

"Somehow, I think there's more to him than this," she said. "He seems like he's got something to hide." She spun the card over, revealing a number written on the back and a name: Nathan.

"Any theories?" Reese asked, taking it from her and did a search on his tablet for the number. It was a private number, but they were able to track it to a Nathan Ingram, a software billionaire and owner of IFT.

"Why would a low level software engineer have the private number of the CEO of the company he works for?"

"Could they be friends?" Carter asked, and took the tablet from him, her eyes taking in the information on Ingram.

"I doubt a mere software engineer would run in the same circles as Ingram. But then again, this guy doesn't seem low level to me at all. The intentionally cheap suit, the simple wire framed glasses, it all looked forced. Like an identity he carved out to blend in. He wasn't particularly comfortable with our conversation with his fiancée. He seemed suspicious…nervous, and even though he said he wanted to take her to see the painting, as soon as he saw her talking to us he was quick to whisk her away."

"Maybe his job at IFT is him just hiding in plain sight," Carter said. "Ingram went to MIT…and from the small amount of info we found on Wren, he went to MIT too….around the same time Ingram did."

"They knew each other."

"They knew each other, they're friends, they end up working for the same company."

"Or owning the same company."

"Why the secrecy? What is Wren hiding from?"

"Who is he hiding from?"

"That's what we need to find out."

They were already in sync once more, and he was enjoying working with her again. They spent another hour throwing around theories and speculating on just what would cause Wren to live a double life. None of their speculations seemed a hundred percent plausible, but he was happy to bounce ideas off of her.

He got up and slipped out of his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves as he headed for the fridge. He took out two bottles of beer, opened them and handed one to her. There was a gleam in her eye as she took it.

"This is a nice place," she said, looking around. "Yours? Or the Agency's?"

"Mine," he admitted, taking a drink.

"Wow! Not bad," she said. "Must go over well with whoever you bring here."

"I've never brought anyone here before."

"Not even Kara?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Definitely not Kara." The only person he'd ever thought of bringing here was the woman standing before him.

"How often do you get to visit?"

"Not very. Only when I get some downtime, which, in our profession doesn't happen regularly. I came here after Montenegro though, while I recuperated. Thought about you a lot. I thought I'd never see you again."

"Neither did I."

She slipped out of her jacket, revealing a fitted tank top underneath it. She nervously ran her fingers along the back of her neck, and offered him an equally anxious smile. She walked toward him, and clinked the neck of her bottle to his.

"To working together again," she said.

"To seeing each other again," he replied.

They both took another drink, but after an afternoon of searching Wren's room then coming back here where they only talked about work, he longed to touch her again. He couldn't wait any longer. He took the bottle from her hands and put it on the kitchen counter next to his. He pulled her close to him and ran his hands up and down her back. Through the thin material of her tank top, her nipples puckered right before his eyes. He bent his head to kiss her, threading his fingers through her hair, and felt her sharp intake of breath. Softly he teased her mouth, not wanting to rush, but intending to savour the moment for as long as he could. He missed the softness of her lips, the way her body molded into his when they were together. Slowly, ever so slowly, he felt desire begin to surge through him.

She kissed him back, lightly touching his face, running her fingers along his jaw line. Her tongue darted sweetly into his mouth and glided over his in the most seductive way. He kept it slow, despite the heat that was building between them; he patiently took his time tasting her mouth, familiarizing himself with the feel of her all over again. Despite the pace, they were both panting for each other, both were breathless when their lips finally parted.

"How long is this going to last?" she whispered. "You and me, as partners again? Do you know?"

"We weren't given a timetable before, and I wasn't given one before I got here."

She shook her head, and he cursed the uncertainty of it all. Neither of them knew how long this reunion would last. It was sheer luck really, them seeing each other again at all.

"I think that maybe they realized that we do in fact work well together, though we'll never hear them admit it," he said. His words seemed to comfort her a little, and drew a tiny smile to her lips. He kissed the side of her mouth, and she put her hand behind his neck.

"I don't want to lose you again, John."

Her admission, her vulnerability, shook him deep down inside, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt that he had to tell her how he felt. Time was short, and though she stopped him from revealing his heart to her in the medical facility all those months ago, he wouldn't let her stop him this time.

"I love you, Joss," he said quietly. John watched as she closed her eyes, almost as if she wanted him to take it back. "Look at me."

She hesitated, and he repeated it again. This time she opened her eyes and stared back at him. Her brown eyes shone with hope and fear, but she didn't look away.

"I love you, too," she said, and he pulled her to his chest in an embrace. "So much for us being a mistake and a bad idea."

The both of them chuckled together.

"It's definitely not the wisest thing we could have done, or said."

She looked up at him again, tracing her fingers over his mouth. "No, it wasn't. But neither is this."

She'd run from it before, never wanting him to give voice to how he felt, but she knew just as he did right now that time was precious, and so were these stolen moments between them. She loved him, and if she never saw him again after this job was finished, she wanted him to hear her say it.

She tilted her head up, kissing him again, and ran her hands up his chest. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt as she undid them, feeling like an inexperienced virgin before her first time. Her hands moved over his bare chest, and she pulled at the sleeves till the shirt fell to the floor. She stepped out of his grasp for a moment, pulling her tank top over her head, and stepped out of her pants. She took his hand, guiding it to a scar on her lower torso, a new one, the result of a knife that'd been wielded by an attacker. It was ugly and dark, a prominent line marring the area that used to be smooth. She looked up at him, feeling a little insecure, but he knelt down before her, pressing his mouth to it, his lips a gentle caress. She cupped his face as he looked up at her, realizing she was still beautiful in his eyes.

"Now we match," he said.

She smiled briefly, but then he picked her up, and headed for the bedroom. She barely noticed the room as he lay her down on the huge bed. He stripped down out of his clothes and hovered over her. As his lips touched every part of her stomach, her chest and shoulders, she felt the heaviness of his erection as it rested against her thigh. He rid her of her underwear, and his tongue lapped at her nipples, sucking them while his hands travelled over her thighs. He gathered her into his arms and flipped her over onto her stomach so he could give her back equal attention.

She was on fire from his touch, she wanted to touch him in return, tried to reach out but he wouldn't let her. He remained in control, and all he wanted to do was give her pleasure. All she could do was moan, writhe beneath him, and call out his name. There were no limits to where he touched, and stroked, and licked. She was a quivering mess, and she longed to feel him inside her again.

He lay on his side, pulling her toward his chest while he slid his thigh in between her legs. She turned her mouth to receive his kiss, and as his tongue danced along hers, she felt him easily guide himself into her warmth. She gasped as he began to thrust inside her, slowly drawing his strokes out. He bent his head to wrap his tongue around her nipple and felt the sensation of him travel all through her.

He twisted her body to fit his, pushing and pushing further in, until he was at the hilt. Over and over he moved within her, her name whispered in her ear, his hands moved over her body and they were wrapped up together. He pulled her closer, put his other hand around her, and turned to lie on his back. With her back to his chest, he thrust upwards, while she held onto him, overwhelmed and unable to move. He bent her knees and raised her feet to rest on his thighs. She closed her eyes at the feeling, while his movements were still slow and drawn out, the penetration was much, much deeper. She didn't remember it being like this, she didn't remember it feeling so good, but it was different now, and she trembled atop him while he drove them both to the peak of ecstasy.

When she finally climaxed it was hard, and she came while his fingers massaged her clit. Her whole body shook, and the scream she let out matched the grunt that left his mouth. He tensed underneath her for a moment, and then his hands moved over her stomach and her thighs, her breasts and shoulders.

"Joss…" he whispered against her ear, kissing it softly, running the tip of his tongue over her earlobe. He rolled them both on their side and she moved to lie on her back. Her arm went around his neck pulling him near.

"That took me a little by surprise," she said, grinning against his neck. She pressed a soft kiss there, and he reached down to cover her butt cheek with his hand.

"The next one won't," he promised, and caught her beneath him.

"Wait, don't we need to finish discussing Harold Wren? We did plant a bug in his room-"

She squealed abruptly as his hand moved lower, tickling her folds.

"Do we?"

"I mean…we really should…"

She was right, there was work to be done, but right now, nothing was as important as her. Not to him. They'd done a lot of what they should do for a very long time. For right now - or the next few hours at least - he wanted them to do what they wanted to.

She ran her fingers over his head, and her nails lightly grazed his scalp. "We can talk about Harold Wren all you want in the morning," he said.

She looked at him with hooded eyes; their assignment was almost an afterthought now to her too. "Deal," she whispered as he kissed her belly. "I'm all yours tonight."

Her last word was a groan as he parted her thighs and slowly entered her.

"Just tonight?" he asked as he put his hand under her butt, raising it to meet his deep thrust.

"Always."

*DOD~ Department of Defense

*"The Red Tower, by Giorgio de Chirico" ~ The painting Grace and Finch talked about when they had their date in Season 2 episode 8 'Till Death'