CHAPTER 5

Hanging up the phone after relaying the news to Zoe, Shaw leaned back and closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath she let it out slowly. That was one phone call down. She knew Zoe would be affected by the news about Reese. She'd handled it pretty well. But then again, Zoe was about about control, of herself and any situation. One less worry.

That little corner of her mind that she had locked down, kept trying to get her attention. A voice kept whispering the names of Root and Reese. Shaking her head slowly side to side, trying to shut up those whispers, she jerked upright, almost growling the words "NO, not now!" Her eyes flew open but saw nothing as she searched for an out. She did not want to make that second phone call. Especially to someone she'd never met.

"Um...Ms. Shaw?" a hesitant voice broke into her heavy thoughts. Thankful for the interruption, Shaw looked up and tried to smile at the nurse.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Finch is awake now, if you'd like to see him."

Muttering under her breath, "Thank God!" She stood up and thanked the nurse and headed toward Harold's room.

Tapping on the door she waited to hear Harold's voice. Hearing nothing, she slowly pushed the door open until she could see the bed and the man in it. He seemed asleep, on his back but facing away from the door.

Quietly stepping into the room, she shut the door behind her. Walking around to the far side of the bed, she was surprised to see Harold's eyes open.

"Harold?" she called out softly. No response. "Harold?" she said a little louder. Still nothing.

Walking up to the side of the bed, Shaw looked down at Harold with concern. He was just staring at the wall. There was no reaction to her calling his name or even to her being in his room.

Sitting down in the chair next to the bed so she was facing him, she reached out and touched his hand. Still no response. This was definitely NOT good.

Taking his hand in hers, she called his name again, squeezing it. Finally a response! A slight squeeze back.

"Harold, it's me, Sameen." Slowly his eyes met hers but no recognition yet. "Harold, it's Sameen...Sameen Shaw."

As his eyes focused on her face, she realized he was aware of her being there. "Harold, it's me, Sameen. I'm here."

Recognition, tinged with doubt, slowly crept into his face.

"Sameen?"

"Yes Harold, it's me." Shaw smiled back.

"Where am I? What happened?" He whispered looking around the room. A grunt of pain escaped his lips as he moved in the bed. "I'm hurt? How did I get hurt?"

Confusion reigned supreme in Harold's mind. Waking up in a hospital room, hurting for some reason...a surgery? Had he just had a surgery? And how did he get here? Who brought him? His natural paranoia weighed in then, what name did he use when he was admitted? Does Samaritan know? Where is John?

That last thought caused him to gasp out loud. Then groan again because of the effect that gasp had on his lower left side. John. John...where was John? Why did it hurt to just THINK his name?

Tightly gripping Sameen's hand, Harold looked her in the eye. "Where is John?" He whispered.

This was NOT what she was expecting. Harold was the CO. Harold made the decisions. She was having a hard time keeping her military habits straight from civilian terms at the moment. Stress like this tended to throw her back. She needed his guidance. But now he was looking at her almost begging her to tell him a lie. That was the only way to describe the look on his face.

On a subconscious level, Harold's mind knew...but he did not want it confirmed...he did not want to hear those words.

Suddenly it was hard for Sameen to breathe. The thoughts and feelings she had been keeping under iron control, threatened to break through. Telling Zoe about Reese had been hard but having to tell Finch was almost more than she could handle.

HE had been the one to tell HER! Now it seemed he'd blocked it out of his memory. Taking in Harold's paleness, the rapid beat of his heart that she could feel from his hand gripping hers, she wondered if he was capable of handling the truth...if she should re-awaken the memory of losing John. He'd told her nothing of the details, just that John, his friend, was dead.

"Harold...John is dead. You told me yourself"...

The anguish that immediately came into Finch's eyes let her know he understood. The tears that flowed down his cheeks let her know he remembered.

"My fault...my fault...my fault" was all Harold could say. Over and over and over as the tears flowed freely. "It was supposed to be me."

All Sameen could do was let Harold come to grips with what ever happened. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could do to make it any better.

She had never seen Harold show so much emotion. He was always constrained, in control, he always had an answer or another way out. But now he seemed completely undone.

Pulling her right hand out of Harold's grip, she slipped her left hand in. They both seemed to need the contact with another person.

Flexing her right hand, she slowly shook her head. She had an idea of what Harold was feeling, how crippling it was to lose John and not being able to do anything to stop it. She'd been feeling that way since she lost Root. If she'd been there, she would have protected her or gone down fighting. To discover that there WAS something between the two of them, only to have her snatched away so unexpectedly, had shaken Sameen. She didn't have 'feelings' like other people. She'd been told that her entire life. But she did...she hurt badly losing Root...the feelings were just 'turned down'. But suddenly someone had turned up the volume. When Harold had originally told her about Reese, she'd filed that away and tried to move on. But that was when she'd noticed a change. Losing John, who was so much like her, seemed to have been the turning point in actually FEELING the loss of them both. Root and Reese were the two most important people in her life and now they were both….gone.

Once again tears formed in her eyes. Her chest literally hurt. Bowing her head over their clasped hands, she gave into the feelings that were slowly overwhelming her.

The only sound in the room was two hearts breaking.

Fighting his way up from the darkness, Reese struggled to understand where he was. Pain was everywhere. Every part of his body was screaming and each body part was trying to scream louder than the other parts. Constant movement, bumps, dips, twists, turns and stops all merged into on a nightmare of endless pain. His mind was screaming but no sound came out of his mouth. He had no control over his body. He couldn't stop the pain, he couldn't get away from the pain...more pain than he'd ever experienced at one time. The only way to make it stop was to completely withdraw. His consciousness slowly slipped away back into the darkness where there was no pain...just blackness.

In the darkness Reese found peace. There was no pain. There was a nothingness. He just existed.

Jessica appeared out of the darkness, beckoning him to follow her. But that way lay a return to pain and he wasn't ready for that. But the desire to be with Jessica, to see Jessica, overrode everything else and he took her hand and followed her.

Once again they were back on the sunlit beach. The roar of the waves was soothing. The sun was warm and relaxing and making him sleepy. But he wanted to stay awake. He didn't want to miss a moment with Jessica. They were too few and too far apart.

But he fell asleep anyway, with Jessica at his side.

Once again he found himself struggling to wake up. His movements felt sluggish and uncoordinated. Reaching out for Jessica he felt nothingness. She was gone. Once again everything hurt. But he had to find Jessica. Where was she? Why can't I see her? Why can't I touch her? Reese's movements became even more frantic...fighting against the pain.

She was gone. She'd left him. No, that was wrong, he'd left her. He had to find her. He needed her. She needed him. Yes, she'd called him. He promised he'd be there no matter what. He'd begged her to wait for him. She said she would. But where is she? He became more and more agitated as the pain threatened to overtake him again. He fought against it. He had to find her. He had to explain that he'd been wrong. Wrong to leave her. Wrong to not ask her to wait for him. She was the only right thing in his life and he'd left her. How could he have been so wrong? So very, very wrong.

As the pain grew and once again threaten to take over him entirely, the pain suddenly seem to ease just a little. Slowly pain began to level off. As darkness once again claimed him he knew he'd lost Jessica. She'd needed him and he hadn't been there for her. She was gone. He lost her completely. And it was his fault, in all ways. He welcomed the darkness this time.

Gradually, the darkness receded. He became aware of his body and the pain that seemed to be everywhere. But it had eased somewhat. Not gone, but almost bearable. He knew he was on a bed of some sort. Too soft to be the floor. He was too weak to even open his eyes but he used his ears to help identify where he was. It was quiet but he could hear distant, muffled sounds of people, moving, talking. It was then that he realized there was someone near him. He could hear their breathing. But it was shallow and regular, like someone who was asleep. There was also an unusual smell, a medicinal smell. Like a hospital. That felt right. Especially for the all encompassing pain he felt.

But who was there with him? Who was asleep near him? He didn't feel like he was in danger. Didn't feel like he was threatened. Who was there?

And then all of the mental re-con he'd been doing suddenly exhausted him. What little strength he had was gone. The pain was slowly creeping back. He became aware of specific spots where the pain was the worst. And there was more than just a few places. His legs, his stomach, one shoulder and he had a massive headache. As the pain returned his breathing changed and almost came in gasps.

The person near him roused as his breathing became ragged.

"John?" a soft voice called. "John, can you hear me?"

The voice sounded familiar but he couldn't place it. It was female. The harder he tried to concentrate, the more the pain threatened to overtake him.

The person who'd called him John, got up and he could hear her moving ...toward the door? Must have been because he heard it open.

"Meg! Meg! Somebody get the doctor!" the woman called out. Letting the door close, the woman returned to his side.

Slowly shaking his head side to side Reese tried to speak but nothing happened. No sound escaped except a groan of pain.

Cool, rough hands touched his face. Their touch stilled him. Slowly the hands stroked his cheeks. Those hands, even though they were rough, soothed him. Eased his anxiety. His breathing slowly returned to normal.

His ears registered someone else coming into the room. The hands that had calmed him pulled away, likely making room for the new person. The loss of that comforting touch was a different type of pain in itself.

A new set of hands touched him. Strong but gentle. Touching the hurting places. He could hear talking but was beyond understand anything. Slowly the pain disappeared and in its place was was a welcoming darkness. Oblivion called to him once more.

The next time he roused himself, he seemed more coherent and more in control of his body. He was injured. He'd been injured enough times in his life that he knew that the pain he was feeling was from wounds. Gun shot wounds…..just not sure how and why he'd been shot. And his head was a constant dull ache.

He was determined to open his eyes this time. He knew he was in a medical facility, just not sure what type. He didn't hear the constant PA squawking so he figured he was not in an ER in a hospital. He knew there was medical equipment, he could hear some of it nearby AND there was somebody next to him again. It was about time he find out just who was keeping a vigil by his bedside.

The darkness was once again receding. But Reese felt a sadness, an emptiness. He resisted the pull of consciousness. Something was ...wrong. Something was gone.

His body still hurt but now his heart was hurting as well. An ache that was going stronger by the minute. It was a familiar ache, a never ending ache...it had always been there, for as long as he could remember.

Then his memory exploded. NO! NO! She was not gone! She was waiting for him! He promised he'd come to her! NO! NO!

Still sitting by his side, as she had been since Meg finished patching him up, Joan was startled when a groan escaped John. She reached for his hand, clenched into a fistful of sheet. She watched John struggling. He was still deep in his memories. He wasn't aware of her. As she'd done long ago in that warehouse, she made soft soothing sounds to help calm him. She stroked his forehead, willing him to peaceful sleep.

Suddenly she saw a single tear slowly roll down his cheek. His eyes were still closed, but he seemed calmer. She wondered what had caused that moment of weakness in John. He'd always held that part of himself away from others. Locked down, as he once called it. The only other time she remembered seeing John Reese shed a tear was over his former girlfriend...Jessica, was it? Joan remembered how he'd finally been able to tell her about Jessica. That had been the moment of his life that almost killed him. He'd survived multiple tours in Afghanistan and Iraq and remained strong even as friends died around him. But Jessica owned a place in John Reese that no one else had been able to touch.

Shaking her head slightly, she hoped he would come out of this downward spiral faster than the last time. It had taken over a month to get him to trust her enough to tell him what actually sent him into a bottle. A month filled with him waking in the night, calling out for Jessica, or her waking to the soft sounds of his sobbing. She did remember that his former job in the military or government, he never was very clear about that when he talked about it, had also played a part in his journey toward self-destruction.

The soothing sounds eased his mind from its turmoil. The hand holding tight to his, it grounded him. He felt that there was someone who could help make the pain go away...someone near-by. But his mind was once again exhausted with all the strong emotions he was dealing with...and yet he needed to know who was there with him.

Tightly gripping the hand in his hand, he struggled to open his eyes. The light was so bright. It made his headache. Ache badly. Pain seemed centered above his right eye. He pushed the pain to the back of his mind and concentrated on opening his eyes. Once again the light was so bright after having his eyes closed for...how long? His body felt weak, like he'd been sleeping for a long time. Feeling this weak was a strange sensation.

Taking a deep breath and holding it, he concentrated on opening his eyes. Slowly the long lashes moved upward and he was able to handle the light through slitted eyes. A figure was in front of him. He squinted to try and see who it was.

And then...he knew her, the older, disheveled woman holding his hand...she was good to him. She took care of him. She kept the memories at bay. She protected him. It was...Joan.

Drowning her sorrows in alcohol had never been Zoe's way of dealing with unpleasantness. Giving into the unexpected grief over losing John was cathartic. Acknowledging how important he had been in her life and what he'd come to mean to her was a surprise. But the more memories that flooded back, the more she realized he had been a very big part of her life.

And now he was gone. Sitting up straight and looking at the bottle of Scotch, she realized she did not want to empty it. She did not want that hollow feeling after it was gone. Yes, there would be an easing of the pain, but it would only be temporary. She swallowed the last bit of the scotch in her glass and stood up. Gazing out into the distance, she was surprised to still see the smoke from that explosion that had taken John. From her, and Harold and Sameen...and Lionel. John had affected so many people's lives in such a profound way. She wondered if he ever knew how much he meant to others. Probably not. He always seemed to doubt his own self-worth.

Shaking her head, Zoe picked up the half-empty bottle of scotch and took it back inside. Placing it back on the shelf in the bar in her living room, she stepped back. Smiling, she reached for it and moved it to the center of the center shelf. A place of honor, befitting a man who always kept to the shadows but who was truly larger than life.

She wondered how Harold was doing. Knowing him like she did, she knew he would be consumed with guilt. He'd confided in her one time that he worried about John because he was the one that had convinced John to put his life on the line for people he didn't even know. She tried to convince Harold then that John was doing exactly what he needed to do; that John was a natural born protector and never felt more alive than when helping or defending someone who couldn't help or defend themselves. John had told her once that Harold had given him the most important thing in his life, a purpose, just when he needed it the most. The job had quickly become his reason for being, for existing. And yet she knew this would be what would haunt Harold the most. He probably would need some help in coming to grips with what had happened. Likely he'd need professional help...

Iris! She would probably be the only one who could help Harold! She knew more about John than anyone else, including Zoe herself.

She and John had altered their relationship as his relationship with Iris had progressed. He still would come by and visit or give her a call every so often, just checking in with her and checking on her, she smiled at the thought. Once you came into John's orbit of protection you never left it. He told her about some of the sessions he'd had with Iris. He'd told her that he'd finally been able to talk to someone about his past...all of it, which was more than what he'd done to her. And his continued amazement that none of it had frightened Iris away. Zoe could tell that John was falling for Iris long before he even knew. She worried more about Iris being able to handle John but things had seemed to be ok.

Except for that night about a week ago when he'd dropped by unexpectedly, that is. He'd come up to her penthouse without calling first, which in itself was unusual. He'd walked in and given her a hug like he was holding on for dear life. After giving her a slight kiss on the cheek he said nothing and walked over to the bar and opened a new bottle of scotch and poured himself a shot. Throwing it back in one swallow he lowered the glass carefully to the bar. Playing with the empty glass he stared off in the distance.

"John, what a surprise." she'd said. Watching his body language, which was her stock and trade, she knew John was very troubled. And that was not a good thing. John tended to internalize things, keep them bottled up til they exploded sometimes both figuratively and literally.

Trying to keep things easy until he was ready to talk about whatever was bothering him, she walked around to the other side of the bar and poured him another shot in his glass. Without looking at her, he swallowed the second shot and again carefully placed the glass back on the bar.

"How is Sameen doing since Root was killed?" Zoe asked, watching his reaction.

"She's ok. She's Shaw. She grieves in her own way." he answered quietly. "She's a soldier. She'll carry on." and after a second, "We always do…"

Zoe shook her head and made sure the sigh she was feeling did not come out. Military people have the strangest and strongest rules both in how they live and in how they deal with death. She'd never understand it and never wanted to.

Pouring him yet another shot of Scotch, she then took the bottle and walked over to the couch. Placing the bottle on the coffee table, she sat down on the couch and waited. It didn't take long before he joined her on the couch.

After about fifteen minutes of companionable silence as she watched him and he'd watched the scotch he was gently swirling in his glass, she'd finally asked, "John tell me. Tell me what happened."

Taking a deep breath, and refusing to look at her, he'd said "I broke things off with Iris."

Closing her eyes, Zoe mentally shook her head. As much as she'd worried about Iris, she had to admit that John had seemed happier and more relaxed these last couple of weeks than she'd ever seen him. What could have possibly brought him to this point?

Opening her eyes, she looked at the man sitting next to her. Most people would be fidgeting right now but not John, the more upset he was, the calmer he appeared. "Tell me." was all she had to say.

Haltingly, in a very low voice, he explained his logic for breaking things off with Iris.

None of the reasons made sense to her, but he'd already made the decision to break it off and had done the deed. But he seemed so very sad about it. There was a loneliness about him that she couldn't seem to touch. She just held his hand and they slowly sipped the scotch in silence.

Coming back to the present Zoe realized that Iris needed to be told about John. And it should come from someone who was able to show Iris that she was not alone in her grief. Sameen would be able to give her the hard facts, but Zoe doubted Shaw was equipped to handle the grief that Iris would have. She'd never met her, only knew her from what John had told her. But their break up had been recent enough that she knew that Iris would want to know, and would need to know if she was going to be able to help Harold.

Picking up her phone she called Sameen.

Shaw roused herself when she felt the vibration of her cell phone in her hip pocket. Raising her head, she realized she'd fallen asleep leaning on the side of Harold's bed. Quickly glancing at him, she was glad to see he finally actually asleep. That subconscious frown he'd had on his face seem to be gone. She hoped he had found some peace in dealing with the loss of Reese.

Reaching for her phone, she was surprised to see she had been holding Finch's hand. That was really out of place for her. She wasn't a 'touchy-feely' type person at all. That was more Reese's department. That thought caught her off guard. She and Reese were so much alike in many ways, and in others they were like mirror images of each other...exact opposites. What had Root called them? Mayhem Twins? Thinking of Root also caught her off guard, actually jolted her.

Pulling her hand out of Finch's, she sat up straight, moved her neck around trying to loosen it up after a night leaning half way on a bed. Eyes wide open, shaking her head, she stood up and reached for her phone. Glad for the interruption to those bothersome thoughts and happy for a return to the real world, she looked at the phone & then answered "Hello, Zoe"

The surprise she felt when she realized it was Zoe quickly turned to appreciation. Zoe was calling about Iris, offering to call and tell Iris about John.

That was one major weight off her mind. She felt that Iris was going to be the one with the most emotional reaction and Shaw really didn't feel up to dealing with that.

She gave Zoe the telephone number and the address.

Hanging up, she bowed her head and shook it slowly side to side. Amazing how something turned out right...in the middle of so much wrong. Zoe always seemed to do the right thing at the right time…...in the right way.

Taking a deep breath she got up and started for the door. Turning back, she was again surprised at how small Finch looked in the big hospital bed.

Time to check on Lionel. Then maybe she could go grab some shut eye, lying prone this time, she thought ruefully as she continued to massage her neck.

Iris had taken a short leave of absence. She'd needed time away from the station and John. To be 'released' from a relationship was something new to her and very painful in its suddenness. She had fallen hard for John Riley. Her feelings for him were all out of bounds of her profession. It was wrong on too many levels to count, personal and professional. But right or wrong, one thing her training had shown her...you can not deny the heart.

He'd told her enough about his past for her to realize he was following a pattern. He always denied himself for others. The care and protection of others was what gave his life meaning; it was his way of living up to standards set by his father, his hero. The father he lost too young but who gave him an ideal to strive for. She had not been able to pry out of him what happened to his mother and sister, and she'd felt that was so important. Loss had played a huge part in shaping the man he'd become.

She knew he had denied himself a truly loving relationship with Jessica. That he'd felt he was holding on too tight to Jessica, to do the job he needed to do. He needed to have no ties holding him back from giving his all to his job with the agency. He'd stayed with her after 9/11 when he was still in Special Forces, kept their relationship going. But when the CIA came calling, with their warped sense of 'duty to his country and the people he loved above all else', they'd convinced him it would be best to leave her now before something happened to him that could never be explained. Agents who died or were killed in the line of duty never had their families notified. They rarely got that sense of closure that most other military families got. He honestly believed that leaving her was the best for her...and him and his mission, as well.

And that was exactly what he'd done to her. Something was coming. Something he was involved with. Something that would make Detective Riley disappear. He left her before they became even more involved, just so she wouldn't be hurt when he was gone.

But that made her angry. He was taking her decision away from her! He was making the decision for her. He did not have that right! But he had done it anyway.

She needed to decide if what she felt for him was real. If what they had was worth fighting for, that If she could live with the secrets and dark areas of his soul she would never be able to see.

And then she'd gotten the call from the captain of her precinct, surprising her. She was on a leave of absence so it must be something big for her to call.

There had been a massive explosion downtown. A building had been pretty much leveled in the warehouse district. They were on full alert. It looked like the death toll would not be high but there would be fatalities. There were two detectives missing from roll call at the moment...Detective Riley and Detective Fusco. They had last reported in from the area of the explosion. Captain wanted her aware and available if needed, to notify kin or to provide grief counseling.

Hanging up the phone, Iris realized THIS was what John had alluded to. This was the 'something' that he danced around mentioning when they spoke in the park. He must have know his days as Detective Riley were numbered. A tear slipped down her cheek as she realized here would be no one to notify. Because John Riley did not exist.

She sat with her cell phone in her lap. She could not get herself to move. John had left her, broken off their relationship and in the process had broken off a piece of her, the question now was how big of a piece was it?

His 'death' was just a way of leaving completely. Whatever his job was, it had been more important than her and it apparently had been time for him to leave. He hadn't wanted to hurt her...but it had. It hurt and angered her that he took away her chance to truly confront him about their relationship and his 'mission'. To try and get him to ALLOW himself to think of himself first. To feel, to love, to care for someone. But he took that moment away from her. Anger was gaining the upper hand over hurt. That would sustain her.

Collecting her thoughts, Zoe tried to plan out how she would break the news to Iris. The hardest part was the fact that they had never met. She knew about Iris through Reese but also through her other 'contacts'. She'd always wondered how much, if any, John had told Iris about them.

But that was neither here nor there. She was about to tell someone she didn't know, about a man that they both...loved, a fact that she was still coming to grips with, was dead.

Biting her bottom lip, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her self control was her bread and butter. That was one of the things that made her so good at her job and made her services so much in demand. It was going to take everything she had to stay in control while breaking a heart. Someone that John cared for. He may have broken up with her but she knew personally how much John could become such an important part of your life. That everything you did, and said, and saw was influenced by what he would have thought. What he would have done. What he would have said. She hadn't realized it at the time when they were seeing each other regularly how much he influenced everything, not until they weren't seeing each other regularly. She had found herself wanting to get his opinion about a client's point of view of a situation, his thoughts about trivial things, like a good wine or a movie to go see. That was when she'd realized how important his mere presence had been in her life.

John was old fashioned in the respect that he was a one-woman man. He most definitely was not a player. Once he'd committed himself and to his relationship with Iris, he distanced himself from her. She had completely understood and had no problem with that. That was why they 'worked' so well together. No strings, not commitments, no ties. It was those little things that she missed that had surprised her.

She had always been curious about Iris. Curious about what kind of woman had caught his attention and touched him as no one else has been able to, including her. And now she was going to find out and in the worst possible way.

Opening her eyes, she exhaled and dialed the phone.

The voice that answered surprised her. There was some reserve in the "Hello." The person was obviously concerned but also sounded a bit leery. After all, in this day and age, if an unfamiliar number showed up on your phone, you usually let it go to voicemail. If it was a legit call, they would leave a message, if not, then you probably wouldn't have wanted to talk to the caller anyway. In this case though, it was clear that curiosity had won out.

A second, more firm "Hello?"...

"Yes, I am trying to reach Dr. Campbell please." said Zoe in her most neutral voice. Didn't want to scare her off before she got her attention.

"This is Dr. Campbell, may I help you?"

"Yes, thank you Doctor. My name is Zoe Morgan. I'm a friend of John's." Zoe's voice trailed off.

There was silence on the end of the line. It lasted long enough for Zoe to ask "Dr. Campbell, are you still there?"

"I'm sorry, yes I'm still here." Iris answered but with a little more reserve in her voice. "What may I do for you?"

"I was wondering if I could drop by for a moment..."

"Why do you need to come by my home? Wouldn't it be better to talk to me at my office? I"ll be back there tomorrow" answered Iris.

"No, I'd really rather speak to you today, before you go back to work." Zoe's mind was made up. She had to break the news about John's death away from the office. The woman had loved John, probably still did and hearing this news at work, where she couldn't show the kind of grief she'd need to….No, it was best done today and at Iris's house.

"What is this about? Is this about the explosion?" asked Iris.

"I'd really rather speak to you face to face. May I drop by? I can be there within the hour." Zoe persisted, her voice becoming a little more forceful.

That caused Iris to pause. How did this Zoe woman know where she lived? What did she want?

John had mentioned her of course, but he didn't give a whole lot of detail. He wasn't the kind to kiss and tell. As a result, she had been very curious about Zoe.

"Of course, do you have my address?"

"Yes I do. I'll be there in about 45 minutes."

"I look forward to meeting you, Miss Morgan." Hanging up the phone, Iris wondered how Zoe Morgan got her number….and why did she know her address? From John?

The two women set down facing each, saying nothing. They were busy sizing each other up. Both looking for what John had been attracted to in the other. Trying to decide if they were left wanting...or did they measure up. John had shared a few personal details about his relationship with the other woman but not much. It was just his way. He never saw himself as someone that women wanted. He had always seemed to be unaware of his looks or how he affected others. Outside of the job, he was always upfront and honest with the people he had dealings with, male or female. Iris and Zoe were trying to find that weak spot in the other to help level the playing field. Each one knew the other was important in John's life….but neither knew much about the other. The unknown can be a dangerous thing. There was no pretense between them, neither felt the other was a threat….it was more curiosity about the other. Both women's stock and trade was reading other people….one as a doctor the other as a 'Fixer'.

Zoe finally broke the ice with a comment. "It is very nice to finally meet you. John spoke so highly of you." Zoe's voice was neutral, trying to put Iris at ease.

Iris took a moment before she responded. All her training rose up to help her understand the woman in front of her and why she was here. Her comment seemed open and honest enough. She didn't sense any ulterior motive in her words or her body language. Iris's training had taught her to take in every bit of information someone was giving her, no matter how subtle. Zoe seemed relaxed, leaning back in her seat with her legs crossed. She was dressed impeccably, her clothes expensive and finely tailored. Her hands were graceful and slender with two rings and a couple of bracelets on her wrist. She appeared to be exactly like she was supposed to be: a successful, independent, business woman. So why was she here?

"My pleasure. John also spoke of you many times and your close working relationship." Iris replied. Running her fingers through her long red hair, she appeared much younger than she was. Zoe took in the casual clothes, jeans and a sweater. Bedroom shoes that looked comfortable. The lack of make-up was a little surprising but she was a natural beauty so it worked very well for her. She looked Zoe straight in the eye and didn't seem the least bit cowed by Zoe's professional work personna.

Taking the bull by the horns, Iris asked "Why are you here? Did John send you?" she blurted out. "Does he think I don't understand why he broke off with me? I may not be as worldly as you are but I certainly know how to read between the lines!" she finished, almost breathlessly.

"I don't need you to come here and try to explain why he did what he did. I know exactly WHY." Iris said, with her voice rising. "Just like Jessica he felt he was holding on too tight. That it kept him from doing the best he could at his 'job.'"

Sitting up on the edge of her seat she continued, "He thought it would hurt me if something happened to him. He was right in that one respect. But he should have let ME make that decision! It was my choice if I wanted to take a risk and get closer to him...become more involved with him. He had no right to make that decision for me!" She said vehemently, eyes blazing with righteous indignation. "He did not need to send you to explain...or to check on me..." she said trailed off, some of her anger dissipating.

Zoe was taken aback by the fierceness being displayed by Iris. Apparently looks can be deceiving! She would never have thought to see a reaction like she'd just witnessed. It was apparent that red hair made for a strong backbone. She'd come here expecting Iris to be sad or depressed. She knew what it felt like to lose John's attention and concern; what it felt like to be alone after spending so much time with him. But anger? No, that was totally unexpected.

But, that anger may also help her handle the news Zoe was about to give her. She hoped she could deliver it without breaking down herself.

"Yes, I am here about John." said Zoe, watching Iris closely. "And that explosion downtown."

Iris watched Zoe intently, looking for any telltale signs that would alert her that to the truth in what Zoe was saying. All she sensed was that Zoe was hesitant to say just why she was there. That led Iris's thoughts in the direction she'd been leaning already, that this was a way for Det Riley to "disappear". That he had left her for good. Closing her eyes for a moment, Iris exhaled and looked directly at Zoe.

"Yes, that explosion. I assume that was part of 'his job, his mission' that he was so focused on." she said coldly. "So single-minded that he didn't need any distractions...like me..." and her voice trailed off, but the fire still in her eyes.

Zoe slowly shook her head. "No, that is not it at all. I wish it were... I wish it were….." she said softly.

Iris sat back and looked at Zoe. Suddenly she didn't want to hear what Zoe had to say, any more than Zoe wanted to say it.

"What is it? What do you not want to tell me?" Iris asked quietly, suddenly afraid of what she was about to hear.

"John was killed in that explosion."

The words just hung in the air...once uttered, they could not be unsaid...no matter how much either of them wanted.

Iris went very still. Her breathing came in shallow gasps. Her lips pressed closed, refusing to say anything. Control was everything and she was holding onto hers by her fingernails. Locking eyes with Zoe she waited for her to continue.

Zoe was impressed. Iris looked young and vulnerable but there was obviously much more to her than she first realized. She knew Iris was waiting for her to provide details.

"Harold, John's ...um, business associate, um….employer, was there when it happened. He's the one that saw...John go down. He, himself, was injured. He's in the hospital." Zoe explained carefully. She was not sure just how much about his other 'job' that John had told Iris.

"Harold? Business associate?" looking puzzled, Iris was stalling for time so she could come to grip with what Zoe had just told her about John. "What about Lionel, John's partner at the precinct?" Even thinking his name made her gasp out loud. Biting her bottom lip to have something to help cut through the fog threatening to overtake her, her eyes looking everywhere but at Zoe.

"Lionel is ok. He's in the hospital too, but he'll be ok."

Surprising herself with the still strong emotional reaction to losing John, Zoe closed her eyes, took a deep breath once again and held it. Again she felt the tears prickling behind her eyelids. Refusing to give in, she held her breath until she felt she could talk without her voice breaking.

Realizing now that Iris didn't know about Harold, she latched on to that to give her the time to regain her control. And at the same time, give Iris time to regain control too. She recognized the intense inner struggle going on within Iris.

"John and Harold have been working together for a number of years. They are..." searching for the right word was difficult. "They were in the protection business. They learned about bad things that were going to happen and their job was to prevent those bad things." Even to Zoe that explanation was lacking, but she hoped, for the moment, it would be enough.

Iris slowly nodded her head. That sounded vague but it also sounded true. The little that John had told her about his current life, that seemed to fit. Their talks had been more about his past. His dark and troubled past.

Looking up at Zoe, there were tears in Iris's eyes but they had not yet fallen. She was ready to hear the truth...all of it.

"What exactly happened?"

Zoe told her what she knew. Everything that Sameen had told her. In retelling it to Iris she was surprised at how few details she had. She'd been so overwhelmed hearing that John was dead, she didn't even realize how incomplete the information from Harold was.

But her mind would worry about that part later. She was watching a woman slowly fall apart in front of her. She took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fact that what she was telling Iris would shatter her world, just as it had hers.