A/N Another glimpse into Reese's mind and how he's dealing with his self imposed separation from Carter.
"Honey, are you okay?" Reese gave the barmaid an icy stare as he downed the rest of his beer. Her eyes flicked between the dried blood on his right hand and on his left eyebrow. He guessed he must have been a sight to behold, but truly he hadn't felt the pain at all. He was numb to it. The scuffle had been brief and compared to what the other guy looked like, his face was as beautiful as a renaissance portrait.
He'd walked into the nearest bar afterwards and ordered a beer. Five empty glasses later and he couldn't even remember what the altercation was about. But it had felt good to land his fist against the guy's jaw a few times. He'd felt a momentary high, a relief at the end of it.
But it didn't last. When he first sat on the bar stool he felt lost, anxious, alone.
"I'm fine. Another please." He said and she came back seconds later with a fresh glass.
The alcohol had dulled his senses a bit, but not his thoughts. No matter what he tried, he couldn't get her face out of his mind.
It was breezy that day, not cold, but she wore a jacket over her usual dark pants and dark shirt. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, just the way he liked it, and her lips were a nice shade of neutral pink. A shade that said she was all business, but also said she was feminine at the same time.
He hadn't expected to see her there with Finch. He'd hoped to arrive after she was gone, and the sight of her ignited something inside him. He wanted to pull her close right there and then. But he knew he couldn't.
Her tone was biting. She wasn't just angry, she was hurt. Hurt and disappointed…in him.
"You did what you had to do to make sure your asset was fine and on the mend, is that it?"
Did she really think she was just an asset to him? If she did, she couldn't be more wrong. She stopped being an asset ages ago. She was so much more. He had to admit his behaviour spoke to the contrary.
He'd been such a bastard. He couldn't really blame her for thinking it.
He looked abruptly to his right as a young girl sat next to him, gazing at him appreciatively. Her blonde hair flowed straight down her back in curly waves, her face was perfectly made up and her dressed accentuated every curve on her body. Clearly she knew she was attractive, she was probably used to turning heads. But all he could see before him was the image of brown doe eyes staring into his, full lips waiting to be sucked on and bitten and black hair like coal that he would love to run his fingers through.
"Well hello there, handsome." She said and ordered a drink. "Haven't seen you here before."
He offered her a smile but he wasn't in the mood.
"I'm Amber." She said sipping on her drink. "What's your name?"
"John." He said curtly, but she didn't notice. She started chatting incessantly but he didn't hear a word she said. It wasn't until he felt her hand on his thigh that he looked in her direction again.
"Well John, this place is kinda slow on Tuesday nights. I think I'll head home. You wanna join me?" Her hand travelled higher on his leg and he grabbed it, quickly removing it.
"Or not?" She said, not offended in the least.
"Excuse me." He walked over to the barmaid, paid for his tab and left.
He breathed in the night air as he got outside and walked aimlessly, not yet ready to go home. On and on he walked, until he looked around realizing that he was in front of her place. The whole place was dark and he wondered if she was at home.
He found himself doing what he normally did; dialing her number…would he go through with it this time and let it ring?