It was 2:05 am by the time Sandra Stark got into New York, and she was pissed. She'd paid enough tolls to own the damn roads from Washington D.C. Back when she still worked for the FBI, the tolls weren't an issue; they bypassed all the pain-in-the-ass systems or had other creative means of circumventing things altogether. But things were different now.
Now she was on her owe, given no choice but to work the system and do what she did best. The bastards had ruined her reputation and any chance at ever getting any legit work again. "Assholes!" It had been a frame job, and someday, she'd find the person responsible and get her 'eye for an eye.' She chewed on the details, even formulated a few quick plans of what she would do, but decided that wasn't big enough. "Fuck that... I should just say 'hi' to all the boys back at the Hoover building, give the FBI something to think about."
But Sandra had never been one for indiscriminate killing. No, she'd wait and find the ones behind it and get them. Maybe some fantastic, new doodad would make that an easier task. This year's Event would surely have some amazing products she couldn't even conceive of. Sandra hoped for some new explosive technologies, something easily concealed, smuggled, and detonated without so much as a whisper of evidence left behind.
Two years ago, the 'Sonic Quake' charges had her blown away. She brought down the house with those puppies. Literally. She laughed at her own puns. Truly, they ended up earning her a lot of business, happy clients and one hell of a great rep. in the Structural Insurance biz.
What would they have this year? She could hardly wait.
Her grin of amusement was still spread across her face as Sandra pulled into the underground parking structure of the Waldorf=Astoria. Tonight, I'm gonna pamper herself. She thought as the hotel valet unloaded her luggage.
Soon, the knots from the four-hour drive would melt away after a bubble bath in her luxurious suite, then she'd fall asleep wrapped in satin sheets thinking about what wonders she might buy at the Event. "Screw the FBI. The salary sucked anyway."
Sleep came quickly.
John's breathing had deepened, but his body was far from resting. Marred by distorting frowns and violent twitches, the nightmares of untold past horrors clashed in his subconscious. Joss had forgotten a glass of water, or that's what she used as an excuse to check out the muffled grunts coming from her living room.
She'd never seen him actually sleep and could count the number of times she'd actually seen him stop working on one hand, and most of those... he was unconscious. The man never seemed to catch a break.
Joss stole this rare moment to just appreciate him. John Reese. Her vigilante.
Countless times she had let her mind wander with fantasies about having him here, all to herself. What would it be like to share a real moment? An intimate moment? To touch his incredible body, run her fingers over his long, solid muscles and drink in that perfectly sculpted ruggedness? To be touched by him? Loved by him?
Many times she would conjure the sounds of his enthralling whisper, close her eyes and visualize that smooth, predatory walk of his, feel the air of confidence and control that seemed to radiated with every step. Without even trying, the man was simply seductive and sinfully alluring. Did he even know?
But it wasn't just his physical traits and prowess that had her so taken. His sharp intellect and deductive skills kept her hanging on his every word, while his quick wit never failed to draw a smile even when things got rough. She found herself infected by his crusading courage and deeply admired his tireless devotion to helping anyone in need.
Another sharp whine shook her back to his sleeping form. She felt a pang of sorrow for the torment he's dreams were surely putting him through, and for the fact that, soon, some of the things that made him so special would put him in harms way - yet again. She understood that to accept him, was to accept what he did, along with all the dangers and the lines he crossed. And though she truly trusted him and his methods, she still feared for him.
She sighed... Come tomorrow, with out a shadow of a doubt, he would put his life on the line to protect whoever Finch, and their sources threw at him.
But dammit... For right now, he was here, and she could try to ease his suffering, offer her protection and some peace.
As gently as she could, she draped a blanket over him and slide alongside his prone body. Carefully, she smoothed soft circles of comfort on his chest, until he quieted and seemed to relax.
She took a deep breath and melted against him. Tomorrow would come too soon.