Near Death Experience – Chapter 12
A/N: When Things Collide. John and Joss have been stumbling, fumbling and bumbling their way along a high narrow cliff for some time. Now they tumble off and things will get very messy indeed.
This chapter is from John and Joss' POVs except for one short section which is a general narrative.
When Joss stepped out on the sidewalk, John was gone.
She knew that he had probably climbed some rooftop or descended beneath the streets in an effort to put as much distance as possible between the two of them. He would spend the next several hours on the move, wandering the city, untraceable, like the ghost she had spent all those months chasing.
She wasn't worried.
Joss knew where he lived.
She knew that eventually John would have to return home, clean up and change before he met Finch at their secret hideout.
And when he did, she'd be waiting.
XXX
For a man who could be so precise about such things as the calibration of his weapons, John Reese was amazingly cavalier about other things – blithely tossing empty coffee cups, food wrappers, maps and other evidence of his work on the floors of Finch's many vehicles.
More than once Joss had to hide her smile at Finch's look of horror as he would delicately slide into a car after John had been conducting a stakeout or some other surveillance activity for a few hours.
But it was several little pieces of evidence floating around those cars, trucks and vans that had given Joss clues as to the neighborhood where he lived.
A card from a shade and drapery installer stuck in a visor.
A sticker announcing the grand opening of a pharmacy on the front page of a newspaper crumpled in a back seat.
A coupon from a dry cleaner fluttering under a windshield wiper.
Sometimes when they were talking about goings on in New York, John would make a comment about that part of the city that indicated he had more than a general interest in it.
And occasionally during an early morning coffee, Joss would amuse herself by roughly calculating the distance from his home to wherever they met by how wet his hair gel was.
So she had a good idea of the area where John lived, even before he gave her the address of the place they were to meet at all those weeks ago.
Joss knew it wasn't exactly where he lived. John would never be that direct about anything in his personal life.
But it was his comment about having a tree house in his apartment that nailed the location for her.
During an afternoon break in the interminable debrief by different departmental, city and government officials about the events at Rikers, Joss did an online search of the New York Journal's article archives from one of the systems in the conference room. She vaguely remembered seeing a story on urban tree houses some time ago and was rewarded with the name of the company that built and installed them in the city.
Pretending to be an interested buyer, she then used the land line in the room and called the company, asking about installations in the area where John lived. The sales associate happily chirped that there were three, running off the addresses, but then apologetically noted that only two were available for viewing by their owners.
The address not available for viewing was John's.
Joss had smiled that afternoon, thinking of the little smirk she would give him when he finally ushered her into his home.
XXX
Reese moved rapidly from building to building, choosing the most difficult to access, climb and leap across, trying to keep his body busy and his brain occupied as he traveled across the city, as he traveled away from her.
It was one thing to follow her, to watch her, to listen to her phone calls.
It was another to slip the scarf she'd forgotten at a restaurant into her cruiser, to pose as a Department of Sanitation official and get her street plowed earlier, to make a sizable donation under the name of a recently deceased alumnus that will allow her son's high school debate club to attend a conference in Washington, D.C. this spring.
It was something else to actually see her face to face.
His foot caught as he jumped from one roof to the next. Scrabbling to find a handhold, Reese managed to pull himself up over the top.
And it was something else again, to have her see him.
As Reese lay there on the cold concrete, catching his breath, his flask rolled out of his pocket, glinting in the darkness.
He was clean and well dressed, but still a violent drunk, just like when he first met her.
Reese rolled over on his back. Clouds covered the night sky, giving the city an eerie glow, as snow lightly fell.
He realized that the shock of being face to face with Joss and the exertion of moving from building to building had sobered him up a little. His hand reached out and grabbed the flask.
Reese sat up, balancing the smooth silver container in his hand; judging by the way it rolled back and forth in his palm, there were still a few good belts left in there.
Slug it down, part of Reese's brain told him, but another part, the part that thrilled at seeing her again, the part that wanted to remember every second that he gazed at her, before he realized what he was doing and walked away, said no, I want to remember, at least for a little while.
He opened the flask, inhaled the aroma, imagined the taste of it on his tongue, craved the oblivion it offered.
But wanting to think about her, wanting to remember seeing her and her seeing him won out.
He thought about how strong she was, how she handled three very different men in an impossible situation.
He thought how calm she was, even when he was choking the life out of Beecher, how just the sound of her voice was enough to make him loosen his fingers.
He thought about how beautiful she was, her dark eyes glowing in the darkness as she looked at him.
He thought about how it didn't matter where they were, it didn't matter what had just happened, it didn't matter that another man was standing right there, a man who wanted her almost as much as he did - when they looked at each other, it was only the two of them and nothing else existed.
He wanted to remember that, just for a few moments, even when he knew he'd have to admit a few things to himself.
He admitted what a fraud he was, that his plan was a miserable cock up from the start, that he thought about her more, not less, that he dreamed about her every night, that he woke up hot, and hard and longing for her.
He admitted that he was jealous of the men she'd been with, furious that they had touched her soft skin, kissed her full lips, buried themselves deep inside her.
He admitted that he wanted to choke Beecher, not because he was afraid that the man would hurt her, but because Beecher tried to claim Joss for himself, that he tried to take something that didn't belong to him.
He admitted that he was angry with her, that he now knew that he had been angry with her ever since she accepted that first date with the Narcotics detective.
He admitted how much he wanted her.
He was tired, he was angry, he was drunk and he was lost without her.
Reese drank the flask dry.
Time to head to the apartment, sleep for a few hours, then report to the library.
XXX
Joss knew she had to catch him off guard.
She went to her apartment building first and put her phone in her mailbox. If John did decide to track her movements, he would think that she'd gone home. Then Joss carefully made her way across the city, avoiding any wide open thoroughfares, until she reached the street he lived on.
Her next task was to determine how John entered his building.
The man she knew would sneer at something as conventional as going through the front door. He probably had a dozen different ways of getting inside without being detected.
As she stood under the awning of a store across the street, Joss surveyed the building next door to his. It was close enough for a tall man like John to easily jump across the gap between the two buildings and it also appeared to be deserted on one end.
Quickly crossing the street, Joss walked around and saw a rickety metal staircase that looked like it was duct-taped to the side of the building. In the past it must have provided additional access to each floor, but the doors were boarded over and the stairs looked like they hadn't been used in a long time.
Out of sight, dangerous looking, roof top access.
Perfect for him.
There was a dumpster and huge piles of demolition materials scattered about on the ground providing good cover.
Joss slipped into the shadows, grateful for some overhead shelter as the snow fell.
XXX
Reese was halfway up the stairs when he heard footsteps crunching on the newly fallen snow.
As he turned, Reese knew he had to be hallucinating.
Joss. In the coat. Walking towards him. In a light snowfall.
Red coat, black hair, white snow – every detail was heightened as she walked towards him, her glowing skin, large dark eyes, full soft lips, that incredible hourglass figure.
It was what he wanted, what he fantasied about every day and dreamed of every night.
Instantly his cock became rock hard and he shifted slightly, using his heavy overcoat to hide the evidence of how much he wanted her.
She was even more beautiful than when he saw her hours earlier.
And she was furious.
Good. That would make getting rid of her easier, before he totally unraveled before her.
He bowed slightly, mockingly acknowledging not only her knowing how he would access his building, but also waiting until he was halfway up the old narrow staircase to approach him. "Well done, Detective."
"It wasn't hard, John. I just had to figure out the stupidest, most dangerous way to access a multi-story building in a snowstorm – that took, oh, about thirty seconds. And waiting until you were halfway up the stairs? Just making it easy for you." She slowly came towards him, her black boots glistening with snow as she took the first step. "Too high for you to jump, too narrow for you to walk past me – but I don't think you'll knock me down." Her lips curved in a smile that didn't meet her eyes "You'll just have to listen to me. Or you can turn around and run away."
"I don't run, Carter." I'm a drunk, a fool and a coward, he thought, but I don't run.
She laughed. "No, you're right. You'll just walk away."
The unsaid word hung in the air. Again.
Her hand trailed along the railing as she climbed the stairs, and Reese imagined her trailing her hand along his thigh.
He smiled. "I can see you worked hard on that, Carter. Stood there, waited in the darkness, practiced what you were going to say to me. I'm sure you've got more in your routine, but it's been a long day and I'm tired. So you're welcome, Carter. Go home." Go home, he thought. Please. Now.
"Tired? You're drunk, John. Drunk and violent and irresponsible and crazy if you think I'm going to thank you for the shit you pulled. What the hell did you think you were doing?"
"What it looked like, Carter, protecting you."
"Protecting me? You had no right doing that, John."
"No right? He tried to take –" Reese caught himself, just in time. "Beecher touched you, Carter."
"He wasn't going to hurt me, John. He just…" she looked away, as if she was talking to herself, "wanted to talk to me." She looked at him again. "Look…I don't need your help, I don't want your help. I can take care of myself."
She was so close he could smell the jasmine and baby oil, so close that his cock was jerking towards her, so close he could just reach out and pull her body against his.
"And you're doing such a bang up job of it, Carter, emphasis on the word 'bang.'"
"What's that supposed to mean?" But he could see in her eyes, as the realization came over her, exactly what he was talking about.
You're too good for this, Joss, he thought. You've killed, but you are not a killer. You don't know how to go for the jugular.
His voice was low and silky as if the words would gently caress her, instead of slicing her to ribbons. "You know what I mean. Beecher. What do they call him, 18 Carat Cal – well, if that was an 18 carat fuck, Carter, you need to ask for your money back. And then you choose a kid – it's quality over quantity, Carter, not the other way around, but considering how long you stayed with him that night, I'm sure he eventually got it right, or you wouldn't have been standing on the sidewalk, watching him."
Reese watched the color drain from her face. He plunged on, cutting deeper and deeper.
"Who's next, Terney, Kane…Fusco – yeah, that would add a whole new dimension to your relationship, wouldn't it? What do they call it when you have a female partner – it's not a partnership – it's a 'part-her-slit'. Or maybe you've done this before, Carter…" his lip curled, "Mark Snow – you spent a lot of time together, even after he tried to kill me. He did seek you out, told me how you actually wanted to help him."
She started shaking and Reese thought, enough, enough, she's had enough, but he had been trained to not only defeat, but to obliterate. He couldn't stop.
Reese delivered the killing blow. "Tough choice, Carter, if we were both in the hallway that night?"
Instantly he wanted to take it back, but the words, terrible and ugly and cruel hung in the air as the snow stopped falling.
"Joss, I…"
She was shaking so badly that Reese was afraid she would fall down the stairs.
He reached out to steady her. "Joss…" as if saying her name could take away all he had said and done to her.
She looked at his hand on her arm and then her eyes focused on his as though he were insane. Her voice was low and deep as if it was coming from her very soul. "Don't…you…dare…say…" and he knew it wasn't just saying her name.
It was all the terrible and ugly and cruel things he had said, including the worst of all – telling her that he loved her all those weeks ago.
Reese expected, wanted a slap, but Joss as always, did him one better. She punched him, right in the gut, and the force and unexpectedness of it made him stumble backwards. His heel caught on a step and Reese went down hard. He felt a sharp pain in his right elbow and knew he was cut and bleeding.
In a flash, Joss straddled him. Swiftly crouching down, she grabbed the lapels of his coat and slammed his head against the metal rungs. "Don't you dare!"
Dazed, Reese realized that while Jocelyn Carter might be mortally wounded, she was far from dead.
The planes of her face were hard and set and her eyes were glittering like dark smooth stones as she loomed over him. "Part her slit – well, I guess you would know, 'lover.'"
Reese closed his eyes. She heard. He thought she hadn't heard.
She nodded. "Yeah, John, I heard that. And I can see by your face, that it's true. You want to talk about choices, John, let's discuss your choice. A woman who kept a man in a bomb vest for months. A woman who tried to crush us with a truck. A woman who killed a defenseless man in cold blood. A woman who didn't care how many people were killed or injured when she set those bomb vests to go off. And you talk about me doing a bang up job – your 'bang up job' was willing to blow up half the city."
Joss shook her head. "However bad my choices might have been, John – they were nothing compared to yours. Maybe they weren't right for me, maybe they couldn't – but it's not about them. You weren't protecting me, John, let's be honest about that. You're pissed that I let somebody else touch me, that I didn't curl up and die after you-"
She knelt down, her knees even with his hips, her thighs pressing against his.
"Stop." Reese sat halfway up, dreading and yet wanting what she was about to do.
"No. You want to fuck me, you fuck me right here. Then you can say that you had what they had. Let's just get this over with."
She undid his pants, ran her hand along his briefs covered cock which had roared back to life.
He bit his tongue to keep from groaning, ashamed at how he shuddered at her touch. "Stop."
Her hand freed his cock, glistening with pre-cum on the tip. She lifted her skirt and with a tearing sound Reese knew she had ripped off her panties. "And then you stay away from me. I don't want to see you or hear from you or talk to you. And if you ever interfere in my personal life again, I swear I will kill you myself."
With his last ounce of strength, Reese was able to reach up and grab her hands, whispering, "Joss. Stop."
Her face changed again as a single tear ran down her cheek. She scrambled to her feet and stood there for a moment with her hand over her mouth, then turned and stumbled down the stairs and out of sight.
XXX
Joss had to get away.
What she did, what she said, how she touched him – her mind saw him cut, battered and exposed on the steps.
She slipped and almost fell on the sidewalk.
No. Don't think, just keep moving.
XXX
Reese lay there, listened to the fading sound of her footsteps. He touched the back of his head and realized he was bleeding.
He was tired, he was angry, he was drunk and he wanted her.
Reese fixed his clothing, got painfully to his feet and turned to walk up the stairs.
He wanted her.
Reese closed his eyes.
He wanted her.
Reese turned and went after her.
XXX
Just a couple of more blocks, Joss thought as she ran, then she could get a taxi or take the subway.
She stopped, opened her coat and pulled her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt, letting the cold air cool her overheated body.
Just a little further, she thought as she walked along.
XXX
He followed her footsteps in the snow.
Joss was moving fast, faster than he would have thought considering the snow on the ground.
Reese knew he had to get to her before she reached a main thoroughfare.
He started to run.
XXX
Joss heard the sound of running footsteps.
She stopped, turned around. The snow covered street was deserted, eerily quiet, except for the sound of the approaching footsteps.
I'm not going to run, she thought. He's not going to make me run.
John turned the corner and stopped, so tall and slender, his dark hair and clothes standing out in sharp relief to everything covered with snow.
For a moment they stood there, staring at each other, and then John started walking towards her.
"Stay away from me, John." She turned and started walking again.
She heard his footsteps behind her.
She stopped, turned around again. "I told you to stay away from me."
She turned and started walking again, faster.
Suddenly he was right behind her.
She whirled around. His eyes changed color as he looked at her.
Joss began to tremble, but she knew it wasn't because of the cold.
She slapped him.
He slid his right hand along her waist.
She slapped him again.
He lifted her shirt and pressed his hand against the scars on her waist.
She raised her hand again, and then Joss pulled his head forward, crushing her lips against his.
XXX
It didn't matter where they were.
They didn't care about the cold, or the fact they were in public or the snow, which had started to fall again.
They didn't care about what they had said or done to each other.
They had denied each other and themselves for too long.
They heard a gasp and the sound of quickening footsteps going by, but it didn't matter.
They couldn't stop.
Their hands, so nimble and sure with weapons, couldn't seem to figure out how to undo their clothes – Reese tore her blouse and bra open and Joss broke the zipper on his pants as they strove to get closer, closer, ever closer to one another.
They stumbled into a store entryway, the falling snow drawing a curtain over their desperate, thrusting bodies.
XXX
When he made love to her breasts, his tongue and lips and teeth and hands pulling and licking and sucking and biting, she cried out and Reese knew she had come.
Yes, not Beecher, not that boy, he thought savagely, not any of the other men who want you. I'm the only one who can do that to you.
When he touched the bud between her legs and felt it blossom and quiver under his hand, felt her body arch and stiffen against his, Reese thought no other man will ever touch you again.
She was so soft and so strong, Reese thought, how could she be so soft and yet so strong.
He caressed her soft, silky skin, felt her taut, sleek muscles as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Reese sank into her, as he strove to get closer, closer, ever closer to her.
He felt a surge as if he'd orgasmed, but he was still hard as a rock, thrusting inside her.
Reese felt something he hadn't felt for a long time.
He felt alive.
XXX
Enough.
The first orgasm when he touched her breasts should have been enough, or perhaps the second when he touched the bud between her thighs, or the even third when he entered her, but it wasn't.
It wasn't enough.
Not with him.
Joss wanted more and she pulled him closer, closer, ever closer to her.
She drew him deep inside her body, her vulva clenching around him as wave after wave crashed through her.
She cursed and she swore and she said things that she had never said before, driving him on and on until finally his cries joined hers, his release so shattering that it shook both their bodies from head to foot.
She clung to him, terrified, because she wanted more.
XXX
They were in each other's arms but not holding each other, as the world came back, as their breathing slowed, as they realized what they had done with and to each other.
As Reese smoothed down her skirt, he saw that her shirt buttons were scattered all across the store entryway, right out to the sidewalk, glinting in the snow.
His hands started to shake as he tried to draw her coat around her body.
Joss raised her hands, stopping him. She stepped away from him, slowly closing her coat and tying it with the belt.
"Joss.."
"Don't."
She walked into the swirling snow and vanished.
As Reese fixed his clothes, he realized where he was.
The main entryway for Cat and Mouse.
The cat and the parrot watched impassively as John Reese sank to his knees and cried.
A/N: We saw anger, hurt, jealousy and passion in this chapter, and while many words were spoken to and at each other, John and Joss did not talk to each other. They need some help.
Next: Free fall and we finally hear from Harold Finch.