Clad in a fluffy pink housecoat with matching pink fluffy slippers, Joss padded across the balcony with two mugs of coffee. The ensemble had been a joke present from John for her birthday a few months back, payback for an even more ridiculous set of matching socks and underwear she'd given him for Christmas. She'd turned the tables on him by wearing it at every opportunity and loudly proclaiming how comfortable it was and how much she liked pink until he gave up and started trying to hide it. She had no doubt it would eventually find its way down the garbage chute, but until then she was milking it for all it was worth.

John, still in sweats from his morning run,was seated at the far end of the balcony, leaning back with his long legs stretched out as he contemplated the view. New York skyline, the Chrysler Building glittering in the distance, the sound of the awakening city muted this far up. She passed him his coffee, and his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her in. "Thank you, honey," he said smiling up at her. In reply she dropped an affectionate kiss on the top of his head – all white now – and gently disengaged herself to pull up a chair beside him.

They sat in silence and sipped their espresso. Joss contemplated him. The years had been kind, on the whole. White hair suited him, seemed to bring out the colour of his eyes even more. There were crow's feet at the corners of his eyes when he laughed, pain lines running from nose to mouth, the same abstract perfection of cheekbones and jaw line. She mourned the slight crookedness of his nose – though really it had been inevitable that it would be broken some time, it was God's own miracle it had survived intact as long as it had. For herself, she remained trim enough, her hair still a lustrous black, thanks to the attentions of a good hairstylist. John had laughed at her for the minor vanity, until she'd threatened to have it dyed purple. He'd taken a sidelong glance at her, seen steely resolution in her face, and prudently desisted from further teasing.

"Any plans for the day?" asked John as he sipped.

"Babysitting grandkids, remember? Kayla's helping with a school trip today, asked me to look after the little ones."

"Oh, that's today, is it? I lost track. Mind if I tag along?"

"Why would I mind? They're your grandchildren too, after all. But weren't you going off somewhere today?"

"Nothing that can't wait." A smirk. Joss had spent years cataloguing the different John Reese smirks. There was the satisfied smirk, often seen just after he'd won at something; the I-know-I'm-pissing-you-off-and-I-don't-care smirk; the bedtime smirk (a harbinger of good things to come); the really scary I-am-going-to-take-you-apart-and-enjoy-it smirk... this one was the contented smirk. She was glad to see him like this after all these years. Relaxed, happy, looking forward to seeing those grandchildren he'd never believed he would ever have. Maybe he'd been right all along. Maybe the people he'd saved finally outbalanced the people he'd destroyed.

"Do you have any regrets?" she asked suddenly.

A surprised glance. "You know I do, Joss." She mentally kicked herself for the momentary flash of pain. Of course he had regrets, always would. "No, I mean about...this" Her hand wave indicated the penthouse apartment, the New York skyline. "I know you always wanted somewhere wide-open. Montana or somewhere."

His brows rose. "What about you, though? Your career was here. You're a New Yorker. I could never have dragged you someplace like that."

She wasn't surprised at the reply. It was John through and through, the man who'd held her hand through the agonising births of twin boys, helped her clean herself up that awful time in Budapest when she'd got traveller's diarrhea, held her during the nights when being a homicide detective seemed like hell on earth...

"I've never said thank you," she said softly.

Now he really looked surprised. "Thank you for what? Apart from the housecoat of course."

"Oh yes, did I mention how much I looooove the colour? But no," she sobered suddenly. "Just for all the ordinary stuff. Like stacking the dishwasher, picking up your underwear-"

"-putting the seat down on the toilet," he put in, crow's feet crinkling.

"Yeah, all that. I was just thinking, we make a great team."

"That we do, Detective. Even in retirement."

She leaned across and kissed him, then stood up, accepting the empty coffee mug from him. "Well, you better get some clothes on if we're going out soon. We have to be at Cory and Kayla's by nine so she can get over to school. Saddle up, cowboy."

He stood up and walked indoors with her, and they made ready for another day.