Chapter 18

A/N: This story was supposed to a counterpart to An Accidental Husband – two stories, one romantic and humorous, the other emotional and intense. The catalyst for both were the events in the episode Prisoner's Dilemma, and I won't say too much if you haven't read that other story, but readers will find many parallels between both tales, including a special garment, key OCs, integration of recurring characters such as Leon, Zoe and Beecher, and larger roles for Finch and Fusco, who I have woefully neglected in many of my other stories.

But, as Joss noted when she referred to herself as Goldilocks, this one had difficulty finding the right fit. It was supposed to be approximately the same length as Husband, but 20,000 words were too little and 150,000 words were way, way too much. I also struggled with the tone and the angst of this tale, so different from my other stories. Many of the most intense moments, particularly the scene on the staircase between John and Joss, I lightened and reduced several times, but ultimately went back to the original versions.

I deeply appreciate everyone who hung in there and stayed with this – your wonderful comments and PMs - heartfelt, intuitive, sometimes shocked and often hilarious - were fantastic. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

This final chapter is called Walkabout. Primarily John and Joss, Bear will appear as well, and we will pay a visit to the Cat and Mouse bookstore. We open with a general narrative.

In his nocturnal wanderings, John Reese knew the neighborhood around his loft inside and out, knew more about the people who lived and worked there than they could ever imagine.

Careful to keep a non-persona persona – he was the guy who would drop in occasionally for the paper or a cup of coffee, nod politely and melt away. Nobody ever saw him enough to want to know his name, let alone ask for it.

And if they did consider him for a moment, they would dismiss him as just another suit toiling away in the concrete jungle.

But Reese looked out for his neighbors, even if they didn't know it. When small dogs were being taken as bait for a dog fighting ring, when a group of teenage boys were harassing one of their classmates, when a landlord refused to fix the faulty furnace in a nearby building, Reese quietly took care of it, never making his presence known.

If you could have asked him, Reese would say that he needed to keep busy. Even when the Machine was giving them numbers regularly, there was still down time, still things that could be done.

He'd never talk about the quiet sense of accomplishment he felt, the feeling that while the work he did with Harold and Joss and Lionel were the bricks on his path to redemption, these small tasks were like part of the mortar, helping to firm and strengthen it, a little at a time.

It was good to save a life, good to make lives good.

And while his neighbors never put two and two together, there was a general sense that things in this sometimes uncomfortable mélange of the industrial, the working class and the gentrified, were getting better.

XXX

For once Joss didn't have to rouse her son – Taylor was wide awake, packed and ready for a pre-dawn flight to Washington, DC for the three day debate conference.

Joss opened her closet. As always, the red coat shimmered, glowing amongst the grays, blues and blacks of her wardrobe.

Winter had lasted forever.

She ran her hand over the soft cloth, pressed her cheek against it, closed her eyes.

With a smile, she took out a black leather jacket and shut the closet door.

XXX

As a former soldier, Reese knew that the most successful missions were planned and strategized well in advance.

He had reviewed an exhaustive list of potential sites. He had picked spots that could be accessed undetected or with minimal observance. He had thoroughly checked each one, watchful for any changes that would eliminate them as a candidate. He had narrowed the list down to an appropriate number, prioritized them and put them in order of attack.

It was just a tour of the neighborhood, Reese kept reminding himself, as he and Bear arrived at the meeting point fifteen minutes early.

But as he checked the food he'd made, Reese reviewed the list in his head one more time, taking one place off, adding another, then putting the first place back on the list again.

The sun was peeking through the clouds and Bear began wagging his tail, just before Joss came around the corner.

Her skin glowed in the sunlight and while her lips were quirked in a snarky smile, her eyes were soft, as she stopped several feet away from them. "Is this where the tour starts?"

Reese's eyes ran slowly up black high heeled boots, sleek black jeans and a smooth black leather jacket. Her face was framed by a red shirt and her hair, topped by a slouchy red beret, flowed freely over her shoulders. Soft, stylish and relaxed, he thought. Beautiful.

"Right here, miss."

Joss put her hands on her hips, slowly turned around. "Sure it's good? Looks like I'm the only one here."

Reese took a step closer to her. "They should have told you when you signed up, miss. This is a private tour."

She raised her eyebrows, letting her eyes travel up his body. "Oh? And what do I get on this private tour?"

"Personal service," Reese took another step, "one on one attention," he took a step more, standing close to her, inhaling her light perfume, "intimate…" he intertwined his fingers in hers, "knowledge."

Her smile was now as soft as her eyes. "Mmmmm…I guess I'll try it then."

"You won't be sorry." He ran his other hand down her jacket sleeve. "Sure you won't get cold, Joss?"

"I'll be fine, John." Joss looked at the sky. The sun had chased away the clouds and the sky was a clear deep blue. "It's going to be a nice day."

She pulled a treat out of her pocket and gave it to Bear.

Reese raised an eyebrow. "Gratuities are at the end of the tour, Detective, not before."

Her smile was dazzling. "Don't worry, you'll get your tip…later."

He kissed her cheek and slipped the key she had returned to him into her jacket pocket.

XXX

The owner of Cat and Mouse heard the little buzzing sound first, as her collar activated door opened, then watched the plume of her incredibly long tail weave its way to the back of the dark store, where he stood.

Mouse appeared at his feet, her dark amber eyes soft and glowing.

"Ah, it looks like someone likes her new home."

The display window she had shared with Cat was totally redecorated. Now it resembled an old fashioned, yet funky private library, with an overstuffed easy chair, a Bentwood rocker and a fake fireplace that housed a monitor, complete with a portrait of Cat over the mantle. Brightly colored tiny staircases and ladders leading to cat sized balconies, perches and a hammock circled the room. A tromp l'oeil rendering of a bookcase with mysteries by authors Lillian Jackson Braun* and Rita Mae Brown** was the centerpiece.

Patrons had followed the construction and redecoration closely, in person and on the website; while Mouse had only been Cat's companion for a few years, everyone knew how close they were and how devastated she was by his death. The new space was a way for them all to move forward.

A celebration of Cat's life was scheduled for this evening; the bookstore was closed today so that the caterers and event staff could set up this afternoon.

So this morning, it was just himself and Mouse. He picked her up and she settled in his arms, purring.

There were a million things he should be doing, he thought: finish memorizing the guest list, review his remarks, continue outlining his next book, but he just stood there, holding her, his instincts telling him to wait.

XXX

"Is this a date?" Joss lifted her face into the mist watering the spring spinach, and her skin was dewy, shimmering in the morning sunlight.

Reese thought of naked, wet limbs, clouds of steam and hands pressed against fogged over glass.

He thought of being jealous of the towel she'd wrap around her body, wanting to lick the drops of water off instead.

He thought of lifting her up on the sink, watching his fingers rhythmically clutching her sumptuous ass as he drove into her over and over again.

He thought about having to take her back into the shower.

Reese thought of naked, wet limbs, clouds of steam and hands pressed against fogged over glass.

Clearing his throat, he said, "You're the detective, Carter, what you think?"

They had scarfed down a savory meat pie and sipped steaming coffee, fought over the last piece of a warm brioche that he had drizzled with brandied icing and drunk hot hand pressed cider dotted with butter and lemon slices. Reese had congratulated Joss on accomplishing the daunting task of getting a dozen teenagers, advisors, chaperones and their luggage to the airport on time without drawing her service weapon and had silently thanked Finch when she was fascinated and deeply impressed with his recounting of a historic battle between early New York police officers and a murderous gang in the very park they were eating breakfast in.

They had toured a glass blowing studio, pondered the Questions of the Week posted in the entryway of the alternative school, watched the fish streaming by in an endless series of tanks, the colors and lights slowly changing to mimic daylight in an indoor hatchery.

Reese had translated the admonitions woven into the tapestry hanging over the altar in a beautiful old Polish church and Joss had interrupted the tour to show him how the avant-garde quilt in the exhibit at a trendy art gallery was actually using Underground Railroad*** symbols in the design.

They had climbed the tower of a former firehouse now being converted into entrepreneurial think tank. Reese peeled back newspaper over the old lathing and showed Joss the initials of two names enclosed in a crudely drawn heart scrawled on the cracked wood, cupping her face when her eyes suddenly sparkled with tears at the thought of that hidden, long ago love. He tears vanished when they entered the dormitory and she skittered across the floor and slid down the firepole – twice, while Bear barked – the first time in alarm, the second time in delight.

Now they were at a roof garden, raised beds full of spinach, lettuce, peas and other early vegetables. Two men were at the far end of the roof, opening up a floating row cover, but rest of the garden was deserted, as the men waved to them, then turned back to their work.

Bear looked positively outraged when Reese tied him a pole just outside the garden's entrance – dogs were not allowed – but was mollified with some soothing words from Joss, and a chew treat from Reese's pocket.

Joss gave him that look as she ran her hand over a trellis. "I think I got it backwards. I had sex with you, then I said I loved you, now you take me out."

He smirked at her. "'Fuck Him First' – sounds like a best seller."

She laughed out loud. "Yeah, I'm sure it will fly off the shelves." Her voice softened. "You make me do things I never thought I'd do, John Reese."

Reese intertwined his fingers with hers. "Sorry?" He would always wonder about this, he knew, always be stunned that she chose to be with him.

She smirked. "No – crazy, homicidal at times, but sorry," Joss looked straight into his eyes, "no."

They stared at each other for a moment, then Joss turned to look at the garden again. "This is really beautiful, John. They're all veterans?"

Reese nodded. "Yeah. Two guys on staff, all the rest volunteers. They provide food to a bunch of veterans' organizations." He led her through the rest of the garden.

Joss smiled, but didn't say anything when he put a thick envelope in the locked donation box on the way out.

XXX

"Be careful, Joss."

Joss was learning to take Bear through his paces on a leash. John had already told her three times to be careful; good food and regular exercise had filled out Bear's body, his muscles were sleek and well- toned and he was eager to move on this clear, warm morning.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You mean because he can be a big, muscular jerk, who goes off half-cocked sometimes?" Joss smiled softly. "I think I can handle him."

John smirked and bowed slightly. "Lead on, Detective."

They continued on their tour, when Bear barked softly and suddenly tugged on his leash, pulling Joss to the right and down a narrow cobblestoned street. Joss laughed in surprise, but let him draw her along, as he practically ran to a store front, then came to a dead stop in front of a display window, his eyes searching the dark interior.

Cat and Mouse.

As she turned to John questioningly, he said softly, "Bear has a friend here."

XXX

Mouse suddenly stiffened and leapt out of his arms. She started trotting towards the front of the store, but then she paused, turned her head and looked back at the owner. He understood that he was supposed to follow her and they both started walking slowly to the front together.

He'd seen the man and dog before, of course. The first time was when his damn prostate had woken him up – after attending to his needs, he couldn't sleep, so he'd slipped downstairs to the bookstore in the dark. He was so familiar with the layout that he didn't need to turn on the lights, so he was able to watch them undetected.

They were intriguing, he'd thought – on the surface calm and domesticated, suited and leashed, but the owner sensed their wildness, similar to his own. Always cautious, he checked the security feeds, but they didn't have any ulterior motives he could discern, and when they came back – never on a regular schedule and careful to avoid the cameras as much as possible, it was solely to visit Mouse. When they suddenly stopped coming, he felt her sadness. Somehow, she had connected to that dog and he to her.

Weeks passed, then one morning his staff informed him that a man was sitting in the store's main entrance.

It was him, dirty, disheveled and utterly destroyed.

Without an ounce of shame, the owner checked the surveillance feeds from all of his buildings, but there was nothing.

But today, the man was back, with the dog, and with the possessor of those silver earrings.

She was a beauty, a rare beauty, the owner thought as he and Mouse walked up to the main entrance, and not just because of her looks.

A man would fight for her, kill for her, as he had fought and killed for his rare beauty, decades ago.

He opened the door. "Please, come in."

XXX

"Oh, she's beautiful," Joss said, smiling as they entered the bookstore.

"Yes, she is a beauty." The owner spoke to Joss, but his eyes were on Reese, in admiration and approval. Reese knew, without a doubt, that if this man had been in that bar the night Joss walked in, he wouldn't have hesitated in approaching her.

Bear and Mouse stood there, staring at each other, then Mouse took a tentative step forward.

Bear sneezed. Loudly. Twice.

Reese now knew how every parent whose child flubs their lines in the annual Christmas pageant feels.

Mouse reared her head back and her eyes narrowed.

Bear quickly shook his head from side to side, then slowly lowered his body to the floor, his eyes never leaving Mouse's.

Mouse twitched her long tail once, and then walked forward, stepping between Bear's forelegs. She closed her eyes and rubbed her head against Bear's shoulder, marking him with her scent.

Bear closed his eyes, snuffling softly.

The owner closed the door and gestured to the rear of the store. "Come. Let us give them some privacy."

XXX

"Ow!" Joss shook her fingers.

"Those are still hot, Carter," Reese put a cookie sheet into one of the double ovens, then stepped on the other side of the island, taking her hand and looking at it critically.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." She gave him that look, then turned towards Bear, who was stretched out on the couch, his head on one of the brightly colored pillows, legs in the air. "He'd better appreciate this. It's not every day I make treats for the 'other woman'."

Reese ran his thumb over her fingers. "You can't blame him. He took one look at those big dark eyes and he was a goner."

Joss smiled at that, then sighed dramatically. "I just hope she takes care of him as good as I would have." She ran her free hand over a stack of cellophane pet treat bags. "You still haven't explained why you bought these. It's not like Mouse is going to care what her goodies come in."

"Presentation's important, Carter, you know that. Plus…they were on sale." Reese didn't add that they were also strangely adorable.

Joss raised an eyebrow at him. "Right." Sounding eerily like her partner, she growled, "Okay, Chef Feline-onious, what's next?"

Reese slowly blew on her fingers, watching her eyes darken. "According to the recipe, we dip them in the milk coating, roll them in the crushed beef nuggets that are cooling off and then sprinkle these fish flakes on them."

She parted her lips slightly and it was everything that Reese could do not to kiss her. "Dip, roll and sprinkle. Ok."

They formed an assembly line, and started putting together the cat treats, their movements coordinated and smooth, hips and fingers sliding along each other as though they had been doing it forever.

Joss huffed as her hair kept falling forward. She washed her hands, grabbed one of the ties from the cellophane treat bags and smoothed it out as if she was going to use it to pull back her hair, tilting her head at his amused expression. "You have something better, John?"

"I have something much better, Detective," Reese said. He washed his hands, then walked out into the main living area, over to his desk. The red hair elastic was still twisted around the mug, shimmering in the sunlight. Reese ran his hand over the smooth cord, slowly took it off, curling it around his fingers, and then returned to the kitchen.

"How –" and then Joss was silent, remembering. He saw something flicker in her eyes, and Reese knew she realized that he had fallen in love with her on that day. She said softly, "Did you…"

His voice was equally as soft. "No, Joss. Not until…"

Joss nodded, and it was as if a last piece was clicking in place for her. She whispered, "Me, too, John."

Joss touched the tips of her fingers to the red cord, then turned her back to him. Reese ran his fingers through her thick waves and then pulled her hair into a high ponytail, nimbly twisting the elastic in place. He pressed his face against the nape of her neck, inhaling her warm scent, and then Reese enveloped her in his arms.

Joss took a deep breath, sliding her arms over his.

They stood there, not moving or saying anything for a long while.

The oven timer went off. Laughing, they broke apart and got back to work.

XXX

"I'm a little disappointed in you, Carter."

"Really?" Joss looked around. The treats had been assembled, bagged and put into a sealed container, ready for delivery and the kitchen was neat and clean. Bear had grudgingly given them some space on the couch and they were curled up together, sipping wine and enjoying the afternoon sunlight pouring through the large windows. "Why?"

John fingered the end of her ponytail. "I would have thought that an officer of the law would honor her debts. You still owe me a tip. It's time to collect." He leaned forward to kiss her, but Joss put her hand on his chest, pushing him back.

"I only tip for completed work, John. Tour's not over yet."

Reese raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"There's still one more place you need to show me." She rose, taking his hand and leading him across the main living area, pausing at the bottom of the spiral staircase.

"After you," John smiled, extending his arm.

"Don't think I don't know why you're being so chivalrous all the sudden," Joss smirked as she started up the stairs.

"So cynical, Detective. Good manners are their own reward, but…I do enjoy the view."

Joss had never been inside the tree house. The space was much bigger than it looked, with warm cherry wood paneling giving it a clean, yet cozy look, like the inside of an old sailboat. There was a tiny half bath behind a sliding door, a miniature refrigerator and numerous drawers in the walls, all so neatly installed, they almost disappeared. The only piece of furniture was a large bed, covered with a thick, dark red quilt. "Very nice, John."

"That's not all, Detective." John smiled as he slid open one of those drawers next to the bed, pulling out a remote. Clicking it, a section of the wall at the foot of the bed flipped up, revealing a flat screen television and a cubby with game controllers inside.

Joss tilted her head at him, her eyes glinting, "So, not a basement and you don't need your mom to make your nachos, but I was close."

"I always said you were good, Joss." He fingered the end of her ponytail again. "So…my tip?"

Joss sighed. "Okay. I guess you deserve something."

She reached up and caressed that soft spot of skin at the nape of his neck, smiling as he closed his eyes at her touch, then sighing again, this time in contentment as his lips explored hers.

They removed each other's clothes, and fell back together on the bed, sinking into that dark red quilt, sliding over and under and around each other, twining and enveloping and surrounding each other, whispering and laughing and teasing each other, spinning higher and higher and higher, until Joss felt she couldn't take anymore, and then spinning higher and higher still.

John pulled the red hair elastic free from her hair, capturing her right wrist in it, and then slid his left wrist inside as well, the material stretching, but not breaking as their fingers intertwined together. The look in his eyes as he entered her, as he said her name and told her that he loved her over and over, made Joss cry with a love that was strong and rich and deep and powerful for him.

He is her husband in all the ways that truly matter, and as their bodies reached the pinnacle together, Joss laughed with joy.

XXX

Reese wasn't asleep, but he lay there with his eyes closed as Joss slipped from the bed, a soft rustle of material telling him that she had slipped on his undershirt, instead of her blouse or his sweater. Her bare feet were silent as she slid open the door to the tree house and went downstairs.

He heard a soft click as she entered his walk-in closet and he wondered which one of his shirts she would pick, suddenly wishing he had thousands of shirts in a rainbow of colors for her to choose from, a different shirt and a different color for every day they would spend together.

As he listened he could hear Bear's claws clicking on the wood floors then pause at the bottom of the spiral staircase - Bear didn't like the tight turns and had never entered the tree house. Reese could hear Joss' soft voice gently cajoling him and the clip of his claws on the metal steps as he hesitantly ascended.

"Good boy," Joss praised Bear as he entered the room. Reese opened his eyes, catching the look of triumph on Bear's face as he leapt on the bed and stretched out at his feet.

Reese let his gaze travel up Joss' body, from her slender feet, to her impossibly long legs, to her incredible curves enclosed in his pale lilac shirt. Her hair swirled around her shoulders, her dark eyes were glowing and her smile was breathtaking.

She was the perfect combination of the girl next door, the partner who had your back and the woman you wanted in your bed.

Joss scratched Bear behind the ears and kissed him on the top of his nose, then slid into bed beside Reese.

He ran his finger over her lips, smirking as he pulled her into his arms, "You kiss your mother with that mouth, Joss?"

"Every Sunday. And you," she kissed his lips, "every chance I get." Joss yawned, "Time for a little nap."

Reese lay back, cradling Joss' head against his chest, waiting for her to drift off, when she suddenly sat up, cocking an eyebrow at him. "When was the last time you got some sleep, John Reese? And don't pretend you just were – I know you weren't."

He started to protest, but Joss cut him off. "Between working yesterday with Harold and everything you did today, you haven't slept." Joss yawned again, then smirked at him, "Take a nap, John. When we get up, you can make me a nice dinner, and I might let you help me work it off later."

Reese raised his own eyebrow. "Is that an order?"

"In your case – yes. And," Joss smiled, "a promise."

Reese gave her a slow lingering kiss. "Well, in that case…I'll try."

Joss kissed the skin over his heart and settled against him, her breathing slowing. Reese thought she had drifted off, when she softly murmured, "Sleep, husband."

And John Reese looked at the woman in his arms, the dog at his feet, the warm sunlight streaming in the room, whispered, "Yes, dear," closed his eyes and fell asleep.

* Lillian Jackson Braun wrote over two dozen The Cat Who… mysteries. After publishing the first three to critical acclaim in the 1960s, she disappeared from the publishing world for eighteen years, then published consistently until her last novel in 2007. She died in 2011.

**Since the early 1990s, Rita Mae Brown has 'co-authored' a series of books with her cat, Sneaky Pete Brown, about a cat, Mrs. Murphy, and her human and canine companions solving mysteries. Brown is most known for her 1970s book Rubyfruit Jungle, which created great controversy due to its depiction of lesbianism, considered shocking at the time.

***The Underground Railroad was a series of secret routes, safe houses and guides that helped African Americans escape from slavery in the South to the Northern 'free' states or Canada. Harriet Tubman was a famous conductor, risking certain death as she guided over 300 slaves in nineteen harrowing journeys North. There are some who believe that symbols were put in quilts by slaves to provide information for those trying to escape, for example, the Log Cabin patch designating a safe house, while others believe that there is no clear evidence that the quilts ever existed.

A/N: As we know, nothing physical happened between Bear and Mouse, but I think the owner was right in letting them have a little time alone. I like to imagine that in their private moment, Bear and Mouse had a silent chat about how happy they were to finally be together, and I bet they also talked about their humans – now that would be a fascinating conversation!

Mouse and the owner of Cat and Mouse will appear in a story called Paperback Writer, the sequel to Near Death Experience and the Underground Railroad Quilts will appear in the story The Daughter She Needed, the sequel to An Accidental Husband.