A/N ~ This fic started during my writer's block, and I was determined to finish it. I hope I did these two justice. Thank you to Carolinagirl919 and Wolfmusic218 for your invaluable input.

*No beta, so please forgive any typos, spelling or grammar errors.

**I do not own Person of Interest or any of its characters.

Last Night

"NYPD!"

Silence followed Carter's intro when she entered an abandoned house in Brooklyn. A lead from a murder and missing person's case led her here tonight. Fusco was preoccupied with another homicide across town and couldn't go with her. Not wanting her to go alone, Reese had volunteered to be her backup. He walked inside with her, stayed close with his gun drawn and followed her lead.

Silently they cleared rooms, closets, corridors, in search of the two suspects they were looking for. They seemed to breathe and move in tune lately, not requiring words or instructions on what the other needed or wanted. One look or gesture seemed to emphasize their synchronous thought and movement. Tonight was no different.

Carter scowled as she inhaled the stale air in the house. She wasn't sure if it was a combination of old clothes, furniture, or rotten food that filled the air, but it was doing its damnedest of turning her stomach. Reese's hand rested on the small of her back, urging her forward, but a glance at the grimace on his face confirmed that the smell was affecting him too.

One last door remained on the bottom floor of the house, a broom closet, and Carter heard the softest of sounds coming from it.

One, two, three.

Reese's long fingers made a count before her eyes before pointing forward. She knew he'd heard the soft rumbling up ahead too. Her eyes opened wide in the dark, but the light from a small flashlight she pulled out of her pocket filled the hallway ahead of them. As soon as illumination filled the space, a shadow quickly darted from the closet towards her. The gun in his hand was unmistakable even with the small amount of light.

"Police! Drop it!"

Her command went unheeded, and before she could fire, John took a shot from behind. The suspect fell to the ground in agony. Carter stood over him as the flashlight captured the blood gurgling from his mouth. She pursed her lips together and kissed her teeth as he gasped out his last breaths. She'd wanted him alive. Wanted to question him. She needed to know who he was working for. More than that, she needed to find the missing girl he and his partner still held captive. Time was running out.

"Let's move upstairs," John said, his voice soft and raspy. She gave a curt nod and they silently climbed the winding staircase.

"Your partner's dead," Carter called out once they reached the top, hoping to talk some sense into whoever was left. She hoped that this could possibly end without further bloodshed. "You might as well give it up."

The floorboards creaked underneath her feet while she and Reese simultaneously cleared two bedrooms.

"Come on out," she coaxed again. Ragged breathing could be heard coming from the direction of the bathroom, followed by muffled words. The door was slightly ajar, but Carter kicked it open, gun drawn, flashlight pointed straight ahead. That's when Carter saw her; Kasey Johnson, the missing girl they'd been searching for, tied and gagged and laying in the filthy bathtub.

"Help me, please!" Though she was muzzled, Carter could still make out the muted plea.

Her cries became even more frenzied as Carter walked towards her. She saw terror in the teen's eyes and lowered her firearm.

"It's okay, Kasey. I'm with the NYPD. We've come to take you home."

"No!" Kasey screamed, and Carter noticed that someone was in the tub with her, concealed behind the torn shower curtain pulled halfway across the tub. He had a gun.

"Joss."

Reese whispered her name and the next thing Carter felt was his arm around her waist. Her feet temporarily left the ground as he quickly pulled her towards his chest and held her there. He fired two rounds. They ricocheted loudly off the walls of the empty house. Carter barely had time to register what happened as the other suspect grimaced in pain for a few seconds before he fell at her feet.

Kasey was wailing in the tub, Carter's heart was beating fast, and she was still caught in Reese's protective grip. His gun was still drawn just in case the two bullets hadn't totally incapacitated the still body on the ground.

She put a hand over his arm to reassure him she was okay and he lowered it. "I got it, John. I got it. It's alright."

He nodded as he looked at her and stepped back. He released her, kicked the gun out of the suspect's lifeless hand and then helped her lift the crying girl to her feet.

Once downstairs and outside, she called for backup and put Kasey in the back seat of her car. Carter handed the teenager her cell phone so that she could call her parents, and listened to the teary conversation while John lingered on the sidewalk.

She walked over. "You should go. It's about to get crowded soon."

They both knew he'd have to be omitted from her official report as usual, but right now that was the least of both their worries. His hands were stuck in his pockets, and his expression was more intense than usual. Deep down she knew he wanted to linger; he wanted to make sure that she was alright. Normally she found his protectiveness more than a little overbearing. John often forgot she could take care of herself. She knew it wasn't an attempt to infantilize her; he considered her a friend, and he was concerned about her well-being. That's what she'd always told herself. Now, she knew his motives had moved beyond just friendship and his need to take care of her held a different meaning, it didn't annoy her nearly as much as it had in the past. She knew he wanted to say more, but now was not the right time or the right place to do so.

"Fusco's on his way," she assured him, trying to smile. He rolled his eyes. "Go on, John." His faith in her partner, although not always strong, had grown considerably since they'd first met. He'd never fully trusted Fusco with her life, but then he returned her smile, and she was confident she'd helped to alleviate some of his apprehension.

"Call me if you need anything."

Short and to the point. His last words before he turned and took his place in the shadows of the night left no doubt of his willingness to come if she called, or of the sincerity behind them. The sirens were getting closer, and a chill ran up her spine. She pulled her coat tighter around herself and realized that the cold had nothing to do with the night air, but everything to do with John and the warmth she'd felt when she stood near him.

"Guess you got lucky tonight, huh, Carter? Two suspects dead and the girl rescued all at the same time." Fusco leaned on the front door of his vehicle with his arms folded. She was at his side watching the last patrol car drive off. It followed the ambulance that was taking Kasey to the nearest hospital. Her parents were meeting her there. Unfortunately her older brother Terrence hadn't made it. His body had been had ditched under a bridge two days ago right before Kasey was taken. She was still in shock, had a lot of survivor's remorse, but thankfully she was alive.

"Luck had some part in it," she admitted. "But I had some help too."

"Our mutual friend," Fusco said.

She didn't bother to confirm. She didn't have to. John had become so much of a fixture in both their lives - hers especially over the last few months - that Fusco was used to him tagging along with Carter on her cases. She was glad he'd insisted on going with her. When she thought about it, he'd saved her life twice tonight, shot two people in her defence. Something else she had to thank him for.

"You know, you two are starting to make a good team. I'm thinking Wonderboy wants to replace me as your partner."

Carter smiled, momentarily picturing Reese as a detective. The man in a suit wearing a badge and running around New York shooting people in the kneecaps. The absurdity of it made her laugh. "Nah, he wouldn't be able to handle all the paperwork and red tape."

Fusco laughed too. "No, he wouldn't. He'd probably quit after a week."

No doubt he would, Carter thought as she stood upright and headed to her own vehicle. "How'd the homicide case in Queens turn out?" she asked.

"Open and shut, really. Homicide and suicide. Guy killed his girlfriend and then killed himself, right in front of their kid. Little girl's gonna have nightmares for a while."

Fusco's frown matched the sick feeling in her stomach as he gave her the rundown. It wasn't a case either of them hadn't encountered before, but it was never easy hearing about it nonetheless. The Johnsons had lost one of their kids and had come so close to losing the other. It was hard not to be affected by both tragedies. It made her want to go home to Taylor and just give him a big old bear hug and tell him that she loved him. He wasn't going to be home tonight though. He was staying with his dad for the next three days. A phone call once she got settled would have to do.

"Thanks for coming Fusco."

"Yeah," he grunted.

"I'm gonna head home."

"Yeah, see ya around, Carter."

He didn't have to wait outside for too long. Taylor came down the front steps with his backpack slung over his shoulder ten minutes after Reese had gotten through Carter's street and slid into his father's car. Joss still wasn't home and it would probably be at least another ten to fifteen minutes before she got there. Finch was kind enough to let him know that Kasey had been taken to Jackson Medical while the coroner had come for her captors. He was still working on finding out just who had orchestrated the kidnapping and promised to clue Reese in as soon as he'd gotten more information.

Reese walked across the street and to the rear of Carter's home. The neighbourhood was fairly quiet tonight. A few kids were still outside playing, others were being called in for dinner. The thump of a basketball could be heard in the distance, the sound of kids cheering accompanied it from the park just at the end of the block. He let himself into the house easily; the lock was simple work for his picking tool.

He closed the door softly behind him and went straight to the living room. The familiar smell of flowers, cinnamon, brown sugar and lemon filled the air. He couldn't tell if it was potpourri, the lingering aroma of her perfume, food, or a little bit of everything, but it made him feel warm, calm. Like his soul was at home.

He was anxious for her to return, anxious to see her in one piece. Logic told him that she was fine. But ever since her brush with HR and with Simmons, his concern and worry for her had heightened beyond his anticipation. Almost losing her that night had made him more vigilant, more protective of her - if that was even possible - than before. Joss had remarked a week ago that he'd become almost as constant as her shadow, but if she found his being around more annoying, she hadn't let on.

He slid onto the sofa, his legs opening in front of him and rested his palms on his thighs. Having slept little in the last week, tiredness was starting to hit him. He threw his head back onto the edge of the chair and closed his eyes for a while.

You changed my mind, Joss. You changed me.

Thoughts of their time in the morgue came to his mind unbidden and for the millionth time since it happened he thought about that kiss. Thought about the surrender behind it. Surrender to his realization that Carter meant more to him than he thought and that he couldn't waste another minute without telling her exactly that.

He'd thrown her for a loop. She looked downright shocked right before he kissed her, but the understanding and openness in her response to him told her that she didn't have a complete aversion to exploring what was brewing underneath the surface of their friendship. That hope is what kept him from going crazy on nights he wanted to told her, kiss her, make love to her so badly. That hope was what brought him here to her house right now. He couldn't go to sleep till he saw her and knew that she was alright.

He bolted upright on the sofa when he heard her footsteps outside on the front porch and stood up as she turned the key in the lock. She dropped them in her usual spot when she walked in and shrugged out of her coat.

"How long have you been waiting?" she asked.

"Not long."

He walked towards her, smiling inside at the knowledge that she knew he'd be here. They stood shoulder to shoulder. His hand was near hears, so close, yet he fought the urge to touch her. Standing this close to her was the only boundary he'd allow himself to bestride tonight. The air was thick with all they wanted to, but wouldn't, say.

"Thank you, John." Her simple sentence was laden with emotion as was the touch of her hand on his forearm. He felt his whole body responding to the touch, felt himself come alive when her fingers moved lower to his hand. They looked at each other in the dark, faces so close they could almost kiss.

He swallowed hard. "I've got your back, Carter. I always will. You know that, right?"

She tilted her head a little and her hair brushed against his face when she nodded. It was hard to control himself, hard to keep himself from touching her, but he had to. Having made the first move in the morgue, he had to leave the ball in her court. He didn't want to seem as if he was pushing her.

"I know," she answered. "I think I've accepted that by now."

Her smile was beautiful, and though she looked tired, the quiet joy that resonated from her made him feel just a little bit energized.

He wanted to stay. The loft was waiting for him and so was his bed, but if he couldn't sleep next to her tonight, her couch would do. He just wanted to be here.

"Mr. Reese, I need you back at the library. Right away. We have a new number."

Reese cursed Finch's Machine and his timing underneath his breath. "I'll be right there, Finch."

"Something wrong?" Carter asked.

He shrugged. "Duty calls. Get you some rest, Carter. I'll see you later."

He headed for the backdoor and said goodnight. He could hear her lock the door behind him, listened as she made her way upstairs. The night onward was a long one, and when he finally made it home, the hours before he finally shut his eyes were filled with thoughts of her.

Tonight

It was starting to get cold. Carter could feel a chill move down her spine and instantly regretted not wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt instead. The sleeveless yellow form fitting dress and jacket she wore were a last minute choice of clothing. Coming over to John's building with a six pack of beer and Chinese takeout was a last minute decision too. John had left her house the night before and she'd thought about him incessantly ever since. His hand around her waist, how he reluctantly left her at the scene even though both of their suspects were dead. The way he'd waited for her to come home and his reluctance to leave her house after she'd arrived. She had managed to fall asleep in the early morning hours wishing he was there in bed next to her.

So before her better judgement kicked in to make her change her mind tonight, she threw on some ankle boots and headed out the door.

He wasn't home when she'd arrived, and for the last ten minutes she'd sat perched on the edge of the windowsill and waited. She'd thought about leaving twice, but made herself stay. The time for running was over, and she never considered herself a coward. If she thought about it truthfully, the last few months had led her here. Not just to his loft, but to this moment in their lives. She could have waited a little longer. Waited for him to make the first move, but he already had. The kiss in the morgue had been unexpected as hell. She'd known he'd come to mean a lot to her, known that she trusted him with her life, but she hadn't know the extent of her effect on his.

Not only was his confession an eye opener, it was literally the key to a floodgate of emotions she hadn't dealt with before when it came to him. They'd had their moments where she felt that it was possible that he felt something more for her than friendship. There were moments where she thought about what a life with John could possibly be like. But then the moment was gone, either because of their work or some other life altering event and it was forgotten.

And then there was Zoe, John's 'wife'. She'd met the fixer on two occasions; first when she'd made the territorial declaration about being in John's life and then when they all went undercover to trap Ian Murphy. Both times Joss had wondered why the woman had seemed to feel threatened by her relationship with John. At that time she hadn't given a thought to how others viewed the bond between them, but apparently Zoe had been perceptive enough to see that something more than friendship was there and it prompted her to stake her claim.

She smiled, recognizing that those moments hadn't been buried as deeply as she thought they'd been. This time they refused to go away despite her repeated efforts to diminish their significance. They came uninvited at the worst of times, too. She and John would be working late and there would be something about his smile. Something about the way his hand lingered on hers when he simply handed her a cup of coffee.

There was something behind his eyes when he called her 'Detective', now. The inflection of his tone was different, the way he said her name held more weight than before. There was something that had changed. It was almost as if he was waiting for her to catch up to a place in their relationship, a place where he had already gone to.

He was there. He was ready. He was waiting. But he wouldn't push her. And she was glad that he allowed her to come into what she could possibly be feeling in her own time without his coercion or meddling.

She smiled again. She knew he was impatient though. She knew being still about the whole thing was wearing on him. But she appreciated the fact that he waited. She also knew unlike before that Zoe was a non-factor now. He hadn't said anything about her to Joss. John was never the type to kiss and tell, so she never expected him to. But their interactions of late denoted a type of exclusivity that she couldn't explain. She simply just knew that they were alone in this new place together. Nothing and nobody else occupied this new territory. And she felt a peace about that.

She slid off the windowsill when she heard the ding of the elevator. John stepped out and immediately noticed her standing there. He paused as he looked at her, but even in the dim light of the hallway, the sly, crooked smile of his appeared as he took a glance at the bags and beer in her hands.

"Am I late, Detective?" he asked, with a hint of mischief in his voice.

Carter shook her head. "You weren't expecting me."

"No, I wasn't. But you're definitely a sight for sore eyes. Let me get those," he offered after he opened his front door. He stepped aside to let her in, and once he cut the lights on, she got a glimpse of what she hadn't seen in the shadows. His suit was covered in a mixture of soot and mud, and there was blood on his collar.

"John!"

"I'm alright," he promised. "I'm a little sore, got some minor scrapes and bruises, but I'm good. I promise."

He went straight to the kitchen, and she followed. He put the takeout and beer on the kitchen counter, while she looked at his face, scanning it.

"Let me see," she pressed as he ruffled through the bags.

"I'm more interested in what you got here. Whatever it is, it smells good, Carter." His voice sounded a little hoarse, and though he said he was fine, she wondered if she detected a wince before he looked away. "And I am hungry."

He had one of the containers halfway open when she swatted his hand and forced him to turn around.

"Take it easy, Detective," Reese said in mock pain. "I'm already wounded, remember?"

"Let me take a look at you," she insisted once more. He leaned on the counter while she inspected him. "You're worse than Taylor. Care to tell me what happened?"

He sighed loudly. "Underestimated the amount of people I'd have to fend off during a bar fight."

She kissed her teeth in disapproval. "A bar fight, John?"

"This was work related, I assure you."

"Of course it was. Well, where was Shaw? She wasn't with you?"

"Not this time. She was needed elsewhere." He stood still while her hands moved over his face, a mischievous smile on his lips.

"Something funny?" she asked.

"Just thinking about a particular bar fight, one where you ended up saving the day."

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing I didn't listen to you when you told me to stay in the car."

Both of them grinned at the memory of him being hit over the head with a neon sign after he'd insisted he only needed three and a half minutes to get the answers he needed. John acted like he was superhuman sometimes, and though he usually handled himself quite well, it didn't stop her from being worried about him.

Their laughter died, and she became quietly aware that the moment became suddenly intimate. She wasn't just inspecting him for injuries anymore; she was practically in his arms, and trying her best to pretend that it wasn't having an effect on her.

"Satisfied?" he asked after she'd found no life threatening injuries. His wicked grin was infectious; she couldn't help but smile back.

"For now, yes."

The relief she felt knowing that he wasn't in fact seriously hurt surprised her. This is what it would be like, she concluded. Feeling that extra bit of concern for him despite the knowledge that he could take care of himself. It felt like the worry she felt for him in the hallway of the DOD, only multiplied by ten. Maybe that was how he had felt ever since she'd almost died after Simmons shot her.

She took a step back finally and moved away from him. She felt herself grow warm and didn't want him to see. It was impossible since John picked up on almost everything. "You should get cleaned up. I'll take care of the food…put the beers in the fridge for a bit. Go on."

"What's the matter, Carter? You're not blushing are you?"

She hated when he teased, but she could never keep a straight face whenever he did. So she turned around and avoided his gaze, knowing that familiar smirk that was splitting his face.

"I had no idea I had such an effect on you," he continued.

"Just go. Take your butt in the shower."

She could feel his eyes on her and refused to turn around. Instead, she made a big production of taking the food containers out of the bags. She heard him rummaging in the closet looking for clothes before finally heading to the bathroom. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the door close behind him and the sound of running water in the tub.

What was wrong with her, she thought? This was John. This wasn't a stranger. Why was she acting brand new?

Plating the food on John's surprisingly nice dinnerware and putting them in the microwave kept her mind and hands busy for a few minutes. She but the bottles of beer in the fridge and slipped out of her jacket. The back of John's sofa served as a resting spot for it as she wandered over to one of the almost ceiling high windows. The view beyond it was amazing; bright lights, billboards, and nonstop traffic. The energy seemed to travel from below and resonate within her.

Her gaze turned in the direction of the bathroom and the scent of his soap filled her nostrils. She shook her head, giggling at how nervous she'd been around him just moments before when she didn't have to be. This was John. The John she'd always known. The man she now wanted to know deeply, more than anything else in the world. She'd come here for that specific reason. There was no need to be nervous. And there was no reason to tiptoe around her reasons for being here tonight, either.

She looked at him as he emerged from the bathroom. He was wearing sweats and a dark t-shirt. His hair was damp, freshly shampooed, and she realized that this was just the second time she'd seen him like this. Out of his suit and dressed down, he looked like a normal guy; relaxed, scruffy, sexy. And he smelled so good.

"Joss?" Reese called her name as his bare feet padded towards his bed. His eyes searched the room for her, found her near the window and walked over.

"I think the suit's a lost cause. I didn't notice it before, but there are quite a few holes in the pants and the jacke…"

The rest of his sentence died in his throat when he saw her. She was a vision in yellow, Reese thought. She'd taken her jacket off, and his eyes roamed her body taking in every curve. His physical reaction to her was strong and he felt his cock start to swell; a fact he knew his sweatpants weren't going to be able to conceal for very long. Her skin practically glowed, begged to be touched, and he swallowed hard as she met him halfway across the room.

It had been a while since he'd been with someone. In the past he'd had Zoe to help ease his urges, but things had changed a lot in the last few months. While his body sometimes ached to feel the touch of a woman, he desired only one; Joss Carter. And here she was in front of him, looking like she'd walked right out of one of his fantasies.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to steer his thoughts away from images of Joss underneath him. "Food done?"

"Just about."

She looked pensive as she stood in front of him, her face a mixture of anxiety and courage. He wondered just what was on her mind. "I've been doing some thinking lately, John. About us...and about that kiss and what it meant for the both of us." She blushed again, shook her head. "I rehearsed what I was going to say and everything."

John could barely believe it. Wasn't sure he should. But she looked at him with eyes glistening, a half-smile on her face and his heart spilled over with hope. When he slipped his arms around her, she didn't move away. She didn't look at him in surprise, but she raised her hands to his chest, slid them over his shoulders. In that moment, he felt as if they'd crossed over to that new place where they could finally be together.

"You did?" His voice shook, but he couldn't help it. His hands tightened around her waist as he waited for her to answer.

She nodded. "I know you've been waiting for me to get here, for me to be ready. It took me a while to get here, but…here I am."

She gently cupped the back of his neck as his lips descended onto hers. Her mouth was soft, tender, and sweet to the taste. He enjoyed the slow exploration of her lips, enjoyed how the pressure of her fingers on the back of his neck gradually increased, but he wanted more. Her lips opened as if she'd read his mind, and she slipped her tongue into his mouth, darting it in and out against his own. He moaned as her fingers moved through his hair; the sensation caused prickly heat to splinter through his body. She was fire, an igniting flame. She was setting him ablaze and didn't even know it.

He had no idea she'd be this soft in his arms, this passionate, and as much as he'd longed to hold her like this, his dreams of this moment hadn't nearly come close.

He felt giddy with want, and his hands moved up and down her back. He wanted, no needed, to drown in her. Needed to show her how much she meant to him. His fingers toyed with the zipper of her dress, and he moved to undo it when the beep of the microwave loudly pierced the room. The groan he let out at the abrupt interruption was coloured by Joss' soft laughter.

"Food's ready," she said while running her thumb over his bottom lip. "Come on, let's get something to eat."

He nodded, reluctantly shaking off the heady feeling of euphoria that had already gotten to him. She twined their fingers together and led him to the kitchen. He stayed close as she moved the food from the microwave to the island, kissed her bare shoulder as she set them down. She didn't push him away as he snuck another kiss on her lips after he passed her a beer, and when he sat opposite her, she didn't mind that he held her hand every once in a while either.

Eating was a good idea. He enjoyed the meal, the beer and her company. They fell into easy conversation for the rest of the night. Their banter remained the same, yet there was already a noticeable change in their discourse. It was heavily tinged in intimacy, a closeness he hadn't quite felt with anyone before. It surprised him, but made him feel warm, calm. Like his soul was at home. This was how he felt whenever he was at her house. He realized then that his sense of belonging didn't have anything to do with the place, but everything to do with her and how she made him feel on the inside.

She was his home.

They eventually ended up in the living room, and though the TV was on, they spent more time talking than watching it. He enjoyed the feel of her in his arms, enjoyed playing in her hair; he had wanted to touch her thick tresses for a long while. She was ticklish behind her neck, a discovery he'd made just tonight, and he loved the way she moaned when he pressed a soft kiss on that very spot. He was looking forward to learning her. Not from the information Finch had been able to glean or what he'd discovered from his own research, but he wanted to know the woman herself. Wanted to know what made her laugh, angry, or sad. Above all, he wanted to know what made her happy, because he planned on doing just that for as long as his life would allow.

"Hmm…you've got some really talented hands, there, John. I could definitely get used to this." They were on his sofa, the TV had long been silenced, and she lay back with her feet in his lap. Joss wondered at the last time she felt this relaxed with a man, and couldn't think of one. Except for Paul, and that was years ago. The movement of his fingers along her calves, her Achilles tendon and the ball of her feet was not only helping her to wind down, it was turning her on. "This something you learned in the CIA?"

His touch shifted from her feet to her legs and thighs as he moved closer and she opened her eyes to see him hovering just above her. That smirk of his was firmly in place. She grinned in return.

"Some things the CIA doesn't teach." He trailed a finger from her shoulder to her arm, making her shiver. "Some things you have to pick up on your own."

His voiced dipped, eyes darkened, and she knew she wasn't going to be able to pry herself away from him tonight. "Care to show me some of those things?"

The teasing grin on her face disappeared when he bent his head to claim her lips. His tongue sliding into her mouth was a welcome invasion. She loved the feel of it against hers, loved how he couldn't seem to get his fill of her, no matter how many kisses he took. He positioned himself between her legs and cupped her face to kiss her properly. He sucked at her bottom lip, nipped at it, and then pushed his tongue into her mouth again. She moaned at his teasing, moaned when he kissed her so deep. And when his hand left her neck and moved up and down her torso and stomach she started to tremble with desire. The feel of his teeth on her nipple through the fabric of her dress sent shocks straight to her groin, and she pooled between her thighs.

"Stay with me, tonight, Joss." His breathy moan near her ear nearly made her come undone. Their eyes met as he waited for her answer and when she nodded, he took her over to his bed.

Clothes came off in between kisses, in between caresses, and hands that didn't want to stop reaching for each other. The fire that had slowly been building over the last few months had finally grown to an insatiable flame, ready to consume the two of them.

He kissed her everywhere, wanting to please, wanting to satisfy, wanting to fill her to the point of bursting. His touch was gentle, but she felt as if every stroke was a branding, a claiming of her as his own. Carter didn't mind, because every time she grabbed, every time she kissed or scratched him, she was making him hers, too.

He moved inside her slowly at first, then his thrusts were so deep, powerful, like he was taking them both over the edge. Their moans together were a chorus, each echoing the pleasure they were giving each other. She called his name out as he raised her legs higher. He moaned her name into her mouth, crashed his lips onto hers as he drove them both home. He pivoted his hips faster, deeper, made her come a fraction of a second before he did.

Her fingers dug into his back and she trembled underneath him. She felt energy draining from her as she wrapped her arms around him. She felt herself go limp as he pressed soft kisses to her neck. John mumbled something in her ear while he moved onto his back and pulled her with him, but she was already half asleep. By the time he pulled the covers over them and nestled her to his side, Joss was out like a light.

The scent of coffee brewing and the golden glow of the New York sunrise filled the loft when Reese finally opened his eyes. He felt rested for the first time in a long while. The sleep that had evaded him most nights had finally come, and he was grateful. A lazy smile formed on his lips as Joss slowly stirred beside him. His fingers skirted over her bare midriff as she moved from just underneath his arm to lie on her back. The covers moved down to her waist, and she groaned.

"It's cold, John," she mumbled, eyes fluttering open.

"I can fix that."

Joss purred in her throat as John buried his face in her neck and pulled the covers over them both. He nipped at her playfully, teased and tickled her, made her laugh uncontrollably. Their playfulness gave way to passion, and he took her again. Made her moan, tremble, weak with pleasure. Before she knew it, they'd spent half the morning in bed, but even though this was new, she didn't mind it at all. Lazy days, laughter, and lovemaking; yes, she could definitely get used to this.

He fixed them breakfast, and she threatened to steal his container of coffee, it was so damn good. He grinned and offered to buy her one instead. He was easy, easier than she'd thought. But as much as she felt like she was falling in love for the first time, she knew that a life with him wouldn't be all roses.

"You don't have to worry, Joss." She couldn't help but smile over her coffee. Damn, if he couldn't read her mind. "We're going to have our bad moments as well as some damn good ones. And I know some days…some days you might think that this was the worst decision you made."

She put her mug down and walked around the island to hug him, press her face into his chest. "No, John. I won't." She felt his arms at her back holding her tight.

"Good, because loving you was the best decision I've ever made. And I plan to keep on doing it…" He paused to cup her cheeks, rub his nose against hers. "…for a very long time."

He loved her.

He loves me, she thought and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him softly. "Promise?" she murmured against his lips.

"Cross my heart," he answered, sliding his finger across his chest. She melted into him, and John's heart turned over. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, heading straight for his bed. His laughter mingled with hers, echoing through the loft and filling his soul.