Disclaimer: nothing you recognise belongs to me.

Zoe Morgan isn't sure that she likes the term "Fixer". It's short, to the point and essentially describes what she does, but it could equally be the description of a plumber or an electrician or the man who maintains her house in the Hamptons. Useful occupations all, but none requiring the nuances of her profession. She can slide past security guards with a whisper of silk and a smile when her adversaries are forced to resort to thuggery, she can protect or threaten in the same honeyed tones depending on what she wants. And always, always, she is in control.

So John Reese and his imaginary friend came as a bit of a shock.

The threat to her life wasn't a total surprise. In her line of business enemies are inevitable; she likes to think that she's careful but she isn't infallible and people no matter how much you pay them can always be threatened or bought for a higher price. Virtanen Pharmaceuticals hadn't set the alarm bells ringing but there had seemed something a little "off" when she had taken the job. Perhaps she had gotten complacent about her skills. It's troubling but smart as she is, she's only one woman. Still having her life saved by someone she didn't know, had no leverage over and had no way of reimbursing was one hell of a wake-up call.

Zoe knows that she's beautiful with the same dispassionate acceptance that she knows she's right handed and can't roll her tongue. She likes to dress up and show off her figure, toss her hair and bat her eye-lashes and watch her target drool, but for the most part her face and her body are tools of the job and she's an expert at using them. John Reese however remains impervious to her attempts to charm made first out of guile and then out of curiosity, with, she admits a certain amount of genuine attraction on her part. Reese is a gorgeous man with a dangerous allure that would be intoxicating to most women and is intriguing to her.

But he's not hers and never will be.

Oh she'd toyed with the idea of trying properly to seduce him – the sex at least would have been phenomenal, of that she has no doubt whatsoever. Two minutes in the presence of John and Detective Carter though and she promptly abandoned that little fantasy. They communicated with snarky quips, glared and didn't touch each other. Zoe did her best not to laugh when she watched the pretty black detective check out Reese's backside when he bent down to check the now bullet-ridden apartment of a now deceased banker, and raised an eyebrow at John when he none too subtly made an excuse to touch Carter while opening the door to the crime scene. She herself had played her part in the take-down of the corrupt corporation with style, elegance and aplomb, but she might as well have been invisible for all the notice the pair gave her.

But still... You win some, you lose some, and Zoe is nothing but pragmatic. Letting herself out of the penthouse she makes her way gracefully down the hall. She owes John for saving her life and she likes the Detective who had worked with her on the case even though she seemed to be one of those unusual people who still had obvious moral boundaries. Reese had promised her dinner as recompense for her help, and she in turn had offered to take Carter out for a meal so that they could compare notes on their "Enigmatic Man In A Suit." It wouldn't be difficult to make a reservation at La Tre.. no, too over the top. Perhaps Assagi – a little Sicilian restaurant, arrange to meet up with them both and conveniently not show up. She'd arrange for a tab of course, and if the pair of them got their heads out of their asses and ended up in bed afterwards then she'd accept that in lieu of a thank-you card for her help. Orgasms by proxy.

Smiling at the man who almost tripped over his feet to make sure that the elevator door stayed open so that she could enter, Zoe feels the glow of satisfaction suffuse her limbs as potent as any endorphin.

She's never tried to fix a person before – she wonders if it will work.