Title: 29 Hours

Author: BellaSarah ( BellaSarah241)

Rating: T (may be subject to change)

Disclaimer: Not mine obvs

Summary: 29 hours is a long time to spend in a car with someone you're attracted to…

Spoilers: Through "Contingency"

Notes: This is my first POI fic and, like many, the idea of Reese and Carter on a road trip amuses me with the numerous (yummy) possibilities. Here are a few, however unlikely.

Hour 13

"Reese, if that dog doesn't stop panting in my ear I swear to you…." Carter crossed her arms over her chest in a huff as she let her statement finish itself. They'd been in the car for 13 hours. The sun had long ago set and the only things visible were the lights of the vehicles around them.

Reese uttered a phrase to the Belgian Malinois who immediately collapsed with a canine whine in the back seat. She slid her gaze over to him reluctantly, his patrician features rendered in stark relief under the green glow of the dash lights. She was struck again by how truly handsome he was. Such a contrast to the vagabond she'd met months ago.

"Was that German?" she asked, her brows drawing up. The man was full of surprises.

"Dutch."

"How many other languages do you know?"

"Several."

"Really?"

"Yes."

His mouth twitched ever so slightly at her sound of exasperation and she knew that he was purposely being obtuse. Sometimes it was hard to tell with his damned dry sense of humor. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I have been in this car for 13 hours, Reese. 13. And we're not even halfway freaking there. You owe me conversation."

"Do I?"

"Yes!"

"And here I thought we were playing 20 Questions."

She narrowed her eyes at him again and again his mouth twitched.

"I'm on to you, you little buttmunch. Now you are going to play 20 Questions."

"Am I?"

"I will shoot you."

"Question 1," he said, throwing her an amused glance of acquiescence.

"What languages do you speak?"

"English, French, German, Spanish, Mandarin Chinese, Arabic, Persian, Turkish, Greek, Latin, Russian, Pashto, and I can understand Hebrew and Kurdish."

"So only about…" she did a quick count on her fingers. "Fourteen? Psh, child's play."

"Oh and pig latin, Klingon, and Elvish."

"Elvish."

"Yup."

"You are so full of it."

"Am I?"

"John Reese, I swear to all that's holy…"

"Okay, okay, okay. You're right. Let's play. Continue."

"What's your middle name?"

"John. Three?"

She sensed that he was sensitive to the probing and decided to tread lightly for now.

"Favorite superhero growing up?"

"Incredible Hulk."

"Really? Why?"

"Because the monster was within him and only he could control it. Five."

"Wait…four."

"Five. Follow-ups count."

"Cheater. Favorite flower?"

"Flowers, Carter?"

"Who's asking the questions here? Answer."

"Japanese peonies."

"Japanese peonies," she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief.

"What? They're beautiful and exotic and they smell…"

"They smell….?" Carter prompted, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Pretty," he said grudgingly with a scowl.

She tried. She really tried hard not to laugh but she still found herself doubled over laughing so hard that no sound escaped even as tears of mirth rolled down her cheeks. A man like Reese, calm, cool, disturbingly in control liking Japanese peonies because they smelled "pretty" was just too much for her.

"You done yet?"

"Okay," she managed, sucking in a deep breath and wiping her eyes. "Okay. Favorite color?"

"Really? Are we going to braid each other's hair next?"

"You don't have enough or we might. Answer the question."

"Green. Seven."

"Name of the first girl you kissed?"

"Maryanne Marshall."

"Aw you remember!"

"Of course I do. What kind of man do you think I am?"

"How old were you?"

"Eleven."

"Wow, making your moves early, John," she said, raking her eyes over him suggestively. He smirked.

"She was cute with long blonde hair and a purple bow. Always a purple bow. I had to take my chances before Tommy Ortega beat me to it."

"Tommy Ortega. That little punk," she said, startling a laugh out of him. It was very rare to get a full-fledged laugh from him.

"Exactly."

"Favorite sport to play?"

"Basketball."

"Favorite sport to watch?"

"College football."

"What do you hate most in the world?"

"Bullies."

"What do you love most?"

"Love."

She cocked her head, studying him. She wanted to say that she didn't see him having a soft side but the fact was she did. John Reese was a killer. He was ruthless. He could take a life without second thought. But that wasn't who he was. He wasn't a monster. Whether he liked it or not, and she had no doubt that if he knew he'd hate it, she could see glimpses of the man he was deep inside. A man he probably forgot he was. Or maybe one he tried to deny being.

"Thirteen," he prompted gruffly, shifting uncomfortably under her stare as he kept his own plastered to the road ahead of them.

"Favorite book?"

"Two, actually. We Were Soldiers Once…And Young and The Diary of Anne Frank."

"We Were Soldiers I get. Anne Frank surprises me."

"My first non-fiction book growing up. I just kept thinking how sad and tragic it was that the Nazis were allowed to tear away the identity of a people. When I joined the military, and in the things I've done in the scope of that service, Anne was always in the back of my head. Reminding me that there're two sides to every war. Did the Nazi soldiers understand the scope of what they were doing? Not Hitler, but his actual boots on the ground. Did they get it? Would I get it in their place? Would I try to stop it? Or would I just follow orders like a good soldier?"

Carter shifted slightly in her seat understanding exactly what he was saying. She'd had those thoughts too. Hell, she'd venture to guess most military service members had.

"You know exactly what I mean," he said so softly that she almost didn't hear him over the road noise. "That knowledge is something we'll have to carry forever."

"Do you regret it?"

"I regret giving away my humanity. My chance at life. All for something I'm not even sure I believe in anymore. I have literally nothing to show for my life."

"John…"

"Fifteen," he interrupted quietly, effectively shutting the door on that topic.

Carter sighed, her heart heavy. Did he really feel he had nothing to live for? She had her mom and Taylor but how would she feel if they were gone? She wanted to hold him. To help him feel something. To show him that he had a reason to go on. No wonder he had formed such an unlikely bond to Finch. Finch had given him purpose, a meaning, a reason. Without Finch and their mission, in John's eyes he went back to having nothing. The thought literally sent chills down her arms. They had to find Finch and they had to find him alive. She might not agree with their methods but she knew they were trying to do something right and good. She couldn't allow that to be taken away from this man.

"Fifteen," he prompted again, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Oh right. Uhhh…Dogs or cats?"

He glanced over the back seat at the gently snoring Bear and then looked at her, amused.

"Dogs. Obviously."

"Music?"

"Most kinds. Not country. Grew up listening to hair bands. Now I usually just go for mellow unless Finch is playing some sort of classical stuff."

"Play any instruments?"

"Yes."

"What? And no fair, you're stealing my question count."

"It was a yes or no question. I answered fairly. Guitar and piano. It's been years though."

"Favorite childhood memory?"

"The Christmas I got a bb gun."

A pause spread between them as she waited for him to tell her the story and he stubbornly refused to budge.

"You're really not going to tell me the story."

"Nope. That's not your question."

"You really are a pain in my ass, you know that?"

"You don't really seem to mind. Last question. Make it a good one."

"Boxers or briefs?" she asked, a wicked grin forming on her mouth. He almost visibly jerked as he whipped his head toward her. "I'm waiting, John."

"You really want to know?"

"I asked didn't I?"

"Commando."