Part Four

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing, searching. "What did you hear?" His voice held a note of warning, what might have been a threat to anyone else. But he didn't scare her. Not anymore. Maybe he never had.

"Carter?" He sounded almost hopeful that she hadn't really heard his declaration of love. Perhaps he'd said all sorts of things to her before her hearing had returned.

She held his stare, almost wanting to laugh that he'd chosen then to try to intimidate her and to play stupid simultaneously. One eyebrow raised back, silently inquiring if he really wanted her to repeat it.

He swallowed hard. She wasn't going to let him get out of it and he knew it. The color drained from his face in the next moment, his face falling as his eyes lowered to the ground. The man hadn't looked so sick when he'd been shot and running for his life and facing down her gun.

She'd never seen him speechless and nervous and panicking. It might have been a power trip for others, but not for her. She hated being responsible for the way he was holding his breath. She reached out, aiming for his hand, trying to reassure him physically faster than her words would.

But he shifted out of her grasp, inching backwards as he stared at her. His face was pale, his eyes narrowed, his head slowly shaking back and forth. He'd never meant for her to hear it, she'd known that already, but his level of distress at the fact that she had made her wonder why he'd said it in the first place. Made her wonder if maybe it wasn't true.

She couldn't imagine why he'd lie, especially when he'd thought she couldn't hear him. Maybe he'd just been caught up in the moment, in the high of escaping.

She took a deep breath. "If you keep backing up, it's just further to walk."

At least that stopped him from moving away from her. It was hard to tell in just the moonlight, but she thought his eyes looked wet. What the hell was he crying over? She was the one who'd spent her evening contemplating and deciding to pursue something that apparently wasn't really on the table.

Her eyes were wet too, but she hoped he couldn't see it. She hadn't realized it at the time, but now that he apparently hadn't mean to say it, hadn't meant it at all, it hurt. A hell of a lot. She'd wanted him to care about her, to love her, because then it would all make sense. Then it would be ok for her to love him too, which was rather important since she already did and she didn't foresee that ever changing. "Did you mean it?"

She waited, hoping the sound of her voice cracking would merit some kind of response, continuing when it didn't. "I can't think of a reason why you'd say something like that if it wasn't true, but I don't understand half the things you do, so maybe-"

He reached out, his long arm breeching the distance between them, his fingers pressing against her lips to quiet her. He looked terrified as he stared at her. "I shouldn't have said it."

Damn him. Damn his evasiveness.

"I didn't ask if you should have said it."

He looked away, backing up another step. "I'm sorry."

Squaring her shoulders, she realized there was only one approached that ever worked with him. She met his eyes, determined that she wouldn't blink until he did. "I want to know if you meant it and I'm not going to stop asking until you give me a straight answer for once."

She was putting him on the spot. Not only had she called him on what he'd confessed, she was demanding more from him, a confirmation or a denial, before she revealed anything. She didn't know if she'd have the courage she was asking from him, but courage was never something John lacked.

Words, however, he seemed to have run out of.

"I-uh-" He closed his mouth, holding her stare as he took a deep breath. "Um." His eyes darted side-to-side, probably looking for some way to escape. She saw the moment he made the decision, the stoic expression that replaced his frightened one. "Yeah." He nodded, though it seemed more for himself than for her. "I didn't intend for you to hear it, but yes, I meant it."

Finally. Who knew the man was capable of actually answering a direct question?

"It surprised me to hear you say it," she began softly, not quite realizing what she was going to say, "to actually hear the words, but I think I already knew."

He stared with squinted eyes as he tried to read her in the darkness. "You did?"

She nodded, stepping a bit closer. "It's the missing piece to the puzzle of why."

"Why what?" He was standing his ground, and so she chanced another inch forward.

"Why everything." Why he'd let her pursue him. Why he'd talked to her. Why he'd saved her. Why he'd convinced her to join him. Why he couldn't stay away even when she got angry. Why he was always willing to risk his life to keep a promise to her. She reached up, taking his face in her hands. "And it makes me happy."

His eyes darted between hers, his face open and unguarded for the first time since she'd met him, displaying the love and hope and happiness she'd known he was capable of, but never expected to see, certainly not directed at her. "If I'd known it would make you happy, I would have said it sooner."

She grinned at him as she slid her fingers to the back of his head, pulling him closer. She wasn't about to let him backpedal out of this. Her fingers locked together behind his head as her lips touched his. No, she wasn't going to let him change his mind and she wasn't going to let him get away either. They'd earned a chance, to be content, to be together. They deserved this, she would just have to convince him of it.

It really should have been a shitty day. Considering that he was still being chased by Elias despite having gotten the man incarcerated and that he had another concussion and that he'd been without food for over twenty-four hours and had spent the entire day and night walking up and down a damn mountain and that he really couldn't look forward to a break any time soon, he would have happily declared the day a complete and utter waste of consciousness.

Except that Jocelyn Carter had her tongue in his mouth and was kissing him for all she was worth and was ok with him being in love with her. No, not ok, but happy. It made her happy. So, not so shitty, really. Might be the best day of his life now that he thought about it.

It didn't take him long to overcome his surprise. His instincts kicked in, his arms moving to pull her body against his, his mouth angling for control. Her fingers yanked his hair in response and he found himself chuckling, unable to deny his amusement. The woman was too damn competitive. He wanted to tell her relax, to point out that no matter who was in control, they were both going to win.

Then again it hardly made sense to argue with her when her mouth was molded against his own and her hips were pressing into his. If she wanted control, then hell, he wasn't going to argue.

He trusted her. In every way imaginable. It was scary for him to admit it, scarier to feel it. He'd never trusted anyone with everything - he'd trusted some with his heart, others with his safety, still others with his secrets. But Carter, he trusted her with him. All of him.

It was a blasting horn that drove them apart, the unexpected noise following the unexpected swell of emotion leaving Reese confused for a moment. The lights of the truck were blinding, reminding him of the head injury he'd been trying to forget.

Carter's hand gripped his, revealing both her fear and her trust in him. She leaned toward him, whispering as though the trucker might hear them. "If he were one of the guys sent after us, he probably would have just killed us, right?"

"Probably wouldn't have followed us in a semi either." Deciding it was more likely a disgruntled trucker who'd noticed them making out in the middle of a road, Reese backed up to the gravel at the shoulder. It wasn't like him to not notice an oncoming truck. It wasn't like him to lose complete track of his surroundings. It wasn't like him to not care that they could be in considerable danger.

He blamed it on the fact that all of his awareness was focused on the sensation of Carter's hand in his and his mind immediately remembered the moments when he'd been kissing her, distantly realizing that he might never be able to function again. Not when he had that memory. Not when he could easily convince himself there might be more kissing in the future.

The driver rolled down the window and looked them over. "You folks lost?"

When it became clear that John wasn't going to answer, Jos spoke up. "Our car broke down. We're looking for a gas station."

"Not much out this way." The man chuckled, reaching over to push open the door. "Need a ride?"

John finally joined in, cautiously examining the interior of the truck and sizing the man up. "Where are you headed?"

"Brooklyn."

"Perfect." Anything she heard would have been perfect with the promise of not being on her feet for a while. Grinning at John, she climbed up into the cab.

He followed her lead and pulled the door shut behind him. "Brooklyn it is."

The driver glanced at them again. "What about your car?"

John shrugged. "Somebody else can worry about it."

Satisfied, the driver put the truck in gear and cranked up the country music on the radio. "Should be a couple of hours, just let me know if you want out sooner."

Jos leaned closer to John, ready to claim it was to make room for the driver if John asked. But rather than asking, he simply curled his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. Whatever trouble they were in, they'd figure it out. They'd get through it.

Together.

With a grin, Jos slid her arm across his waist and closed her eyes. She'd never been more certain, more satisfied, with a decision in her life and she was pretty damn sure he felt the same.

~end~