Near Death Experience

In the aftermath of traumatic events, Reese and Carter's relationship spirals out of control. Contains spoilers for the Season two episodes 2Pi-R, Prisonner's Dilemma, Dead Reckoning and Booked Solid.

The usual disclaimers: nothing you recognize belongs to me.

"Whoever he is, he's a lucky man."

Joss couldn't help but smile at the handsome young barista when she paid her bill. He had been flirting with her outrageously since she stopped in the coffee shop, much to the consternation of a trio of young women who had been trying to get his attention for the last fifteen minutes. His skin was as dark and smooth as the sweetest plums, his braids hung almost to his waist and his long fingers were dazzling to watch as he prepared complicated concoctions for his customers.

She leaned forward. "I think you might have better luck over there," tilting her head slightly at the trio.

His eyes lingered on her mouth. "Maybe, but you can't blame me for wanting to appreciate the finer things in life." He handed her his business card, his forefinger grazing her skin. "Call me. My personal cell's on the back."

It had been like this for a while now. They say that you never feel more alive than after you've almost died and Joss was starting to believe it was true as she stepped out on the street. She had been in that coffee shop many times before, but it was only recently that the barista had even noticed her, much less tried to flirt with her. He wasn't the only one – men everywhere were looking at her differently, as if she had some incredible secret that she would only share with the man bold enough to approach her.

The first few days after – Joss didn't even know what to call it – everything that had happened were extremely difficult. She was both wrung out and wired, wanting to collapse in a heap one moment, then ready to run five miles the next. Joss took sleeping pills, but she'd wake up several times a night, her pillow soaked with tears, the sound of heels leisurely walking towards her, dealing death, haunting her.

She had nightmares - John carried out of the prison yard, eyes open, unseeing or blown to bits, pieces of skin and bone floating like confetti in the sky. Donnelly would follow her, his hand ghostly white, clutching her arm, asking her, 'What was your price, Carter?', over and over again, until she would scream in frustration, shoving him away, then watch in horror as he crumpled to the ground, only to appear again. The worst ones would be when Taylor, shaking his head in disgust, his eyes hard and sharp like flint, would turn his back on her as she was led away in shackles down a long endless hall.

Her son was watching her like a hawk and for once Fusco was double checking her paperwork. After a few days of this, Joss conceded that she needed to take some time off. Fortunately she had a few personal days to use up before the end of the year, and while her co-workers were surprised – she had to be pushed to even take her vacation days – several commended her for finally smartening up.

Finch sent her to a series of superb doctors who gave her special medications to help her sleep and tended her torn and battered skin with treatments only available to the extremely wealthy. The only indications of the car crash now were two thin three inch long scars at her waist near her tattoo – when told she could have plastic surgery to remove them, she demurred.

Karma for the other scars she had caused, she thought.

Joss pulled the collar of her new coat up - she had incinerated all the clothes that she wore that night – even if they weren't ripped and torn, they were spattered with the blood of three people and smelled of fire and gasoline. It had arrived anonymously several days later – dark red, of the finest cashmere, made to her measurements. It hung in her closet for several days and then finally, hesitantly, she put it on – she'd worn it every day since.

As she waited to cross the street Joss saw her reflection in a store window. She looked good, was starting to feel good, perhaps that's all those men saw. The nightmares were gone and while Joss sometimes felt as though she was being followed, it was understandable, with being caught by Donnelly on the bridge – she'd be looking over her shoulder for a long while to come.

Joss knew she was taking a chance tonight – perhaps that was why she had lingered so long in the coffee shop. They hadn't really spoken for a while – it was time to clear the air. Taking a deep breath, Joss knocked on the door of his apartment.

There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes as he opened the door, but he quickly hid it. "I didn't realize you knew where I lived," he said, as he stepped back to let her in.

"I am a detective." Her eyes took in the spacious loft, smiling as she crossed the room. "Is there some rule that single men of a certain age have to have a black leather couch?" She ran her hand along the soft buttery skins.

He followed her, smirking. "We get a group discount." His eyes flickered over her, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't know where to start. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, but you can answer a question." She unbuttoned her beautiful coat, revealing her naked body. "Do you want me?"

"Carter –"

"Do you?" The coat fell to the floor – all she had on were a pair of black heels. "Do you?"

Joss stretched out on the couch, parting her legs. Her arms were above her head, back arched, thrusting her breasts forward.

She watched as his eyes roved over her body, as his erection surged in his dark pants, as he swallowed convulsively. Joss wanted to laugh - she knew she would win this battle.

"Do you?" Lowering one arm, she cupped a breast, running her finger over the nipple, feeling it harden as she caressed it.

"God…" His eyes flashed and she knew she had won. He tore his clothes off, his cock jerking forward as his boxers dropped to the floor, the head already glistening with pre-cum.

As he knelt beside her, he stretched out his hand to turn a table lamp off, but she gripped his arm. "I want to see it all."

Cal Beecher fisted her hair, drew her head back and kissed her.

Their bodies twined together, not knowing or not caring that they were in full view of the loft's large windows.

That they were being watched.

TBC