A/N: As always, thanks for the beta and encouragement, wolfmusic218. :)

Carter walked through the double doors of the multi-tenant office building, a weird feeling of nostalgia coming over her. She had no real reason to be here, to be doing this, except opportunity and curiosity. She was surprised the building was even still here. How Finch had pulled this off—and apparently still continued to—astounded her. Money and a superior intellect went a long damn way was all she could figure. How John found the time to be here astounded her as well. How often did he come here? There was an administrative assistant who had been "worried sick" when "Mr. Warren" had disappeared for days. How did they fool her into thinking he was who he said he was? What the hell did he do all day when he came?

She could have just asked Harold or John these questions once things had died down. But she hadn't. Other things had come up, it slipped further and further away from the forefront of her mind. Today, however, business had brought her within the vicinity again, and the detective in her wanted to see what was up. What would happen when she went up to the sixth floor to the offices of Pebler Wright and Associates and asked for John Warren.

She had her cover story straight. They might remember her from the FBI raid so she was there in an official capacity. She didn't expect much. John probably wasn't even in. Hell, Warren had probably put in his two weeks awhile ago and moved on. But that damn curiosity nagged at her and brought her into the building anyway.

She stepped off the elevator and walked straight to the front desk. The woman seated there wasn't the same woman she'd met a few months earlier and one piece fell into place: Finch likely transferred the secretaries regularly before they could get curious about a certain investment banker. "Hi, uh, is John Warren in?"

"Do you have an appointment?"

Carter flashed her badge. "No, but I'm hoping he can see me." She watched as the woman's widened eyes went from her to the computer screen. After a few mouse clicks, she looked back up at her.

"I'll let him know you're here."

Damn. She hadn't expected him to actually be in. Why wasn't he out wreaking havoc in the streets of New York? Then the thought struck her that it might not even be him in. Maybe Finch had a body double in there. What the hell would she say to the double in that case? No, that was absurd. Wasn't it? Maybe this hadn't been the brightest idea after all and she started to curse her need to be a nosey bitch.

"Mr. Warren? You have a visitor. From the police department."

The woman hung up the phone and directed her to a chair in the small waiting area. Joss sat and tried to tamp down her nervousness. Damn John and Finch. Always dragging her into these messed up situations. She would blame them for being so secretive and making her do what she did. She wasn't ready to take any responsibility for this one.

Reese closed out the game of solitaire he was playing on his work-issued computer, frowning as he took a moment to think. No one ever came to visit John Warren, for obvious reasons. He always conveniently met with "clients" elsewhere when Harold informed John Reese that there was a new number. Or, as was typically the case, he was out of the country on business. Someone from the police department? Before he let the worry that Finch had uncharacteristically missed something fully form, he checked his phone's tracking app. Instead of anxiety, warmth flooded through him at the thought that Carter was nearby, but he immediately wondered why. How the hell did she even know about this place? If she knew he was there, why didn't she let him know she was coming? He caught himself with that one. He dropped in on her without warning all the time, didn't he?

He unconsciously straightened his tie as he rose from his desk. He opened his office door and walked down the hall to the receptionist's desk.

Carter looked up as she sensed someone's impending arrival. A huge wave of relief washed over her as the John she knew and…..knew approached her. But the always present swagger in his walk and the addition of a tie to his usual suit ensemble threw her off balance. This whole charade….it was weird and she found herself struggling to reconcile him as his alias in this office setting.

Since she was the only one sitting there waiting, she watched as he walked directly to her and held out his hand, introducing himself.

"John Warren. Are you here to see me?"

Carter got her bearings and awkwardly stood up from her chair. She shook his proffered hand. "Yes. Detective Carter, NYPD." He held a twinkle in his eye as he stared at her and she felt a tiny flutter in her belly that wasn't a stranger but was always unwelcome when it came by.

"My office is down the hall." He nodded his head in the direction of his office and led the way, smirking to himself as he walked. She had dropped in on him yet she looked a little caught off guard. Her handshake was weak, as well. He'd never had to shake her hand before but he knew she had a firm one. And soft hands…..

He stopped just beside the entrance and allowed her to enter first, suddenly excited about how she was going to play this and what she wanted. Entering behind her, he closed the office door and walked to the center of the room, watching as she cased the place. "Do you need some help with your investments, Carter?"

She tsked. "If I did, I wouldn't be coming to you."

John smirked to himself again. Take no shit Carter was back. Didn't take long. He watched her walk over to one of the pictures on his filing cabinet. She picked it up, holding it up for him with a raised eyebrow. "Warren's godson," he offered in explanation.

She rolled her eyes, "Of course," and moved on to the next one.

"Best friend and his wife at a Christmas party a few years ago."

Carter set the picture down. "Figures."

Reese shrugged his shoulder. "Finch knows his way around Photoshop."

She continued walking the perimeter of the room, taking in the spectacular view she had been too preoccupied to appreciate the last and only time she'd been here. "Nice view, corner office..." She turned to look at him. "You must be good at your job."

Reese shrugged again. "I do okay."

Carter made her way behind his desk, glancing at the sparseness of it. "I'll bet." She ran her hand along the cushioned top of his chair. "Any office friends? Who do you eat lunch with?"

John took a couple steps toward her. "Terry Silverman. When I'm here. He's on the other side of the break room."

Joss nodded, taking all this bullshit in. She remembered the concerned receptionist from the last time and decided to tease him. "Got a work wife, John?"

He smiled, her question amusing him. "Amy's probably the closest thing to that that I have." Then he frowned and his heart beat a little faster in his chest. "Who's your work husband?" He waited, a jealous pang hitting him out of nowhere in preparation for her answer. It wasn't that a work husband meant anything; he just didn't want her having one.

She rolled her eyes again as she turned his chair so that she could unceremoniously plop down into it. "Please. If I had one, you'd already know."

Relieved in a way that she would never know or understand, John took a few more steps until he stood directly in front of his desk, watching as she opened and closed his desk drawers and waiting for the smartass remark he knew would soon be forthcoming from those full lips of hers.

She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. "It's just a bunch of Wall Street suits here, John. I can see one or two, but all these?" She'd counted no less than five weapons in his desk drawers. Three handguns and two knives.

"You can never have too big an arsenal, Carter. You should know. I've seen your trunk."

Her voice came out a little higher pitched than she intended. "I have a license to carry those, thank you very much. And I'm a cop, not an investment banker." She air quoted the last two words for emphasis.

Reese chuckled, rounding his desk and perching himself on it, barely two feet separating them. "It's okay, Carter. I like a woman with a lot of firepower."

She turned the chair back toward his computer monitor, leaning forward a bit to move the mouse and wake up the screen. The flutter in her belly was back and it had brought a few heart pounds with it. If only he'd back up out of her space just a little bit.

There was an awkward, loaded silence for several seconds. Sensing he'd said a little more than she was comfortable with, John tried to steer their conversation back to business. "Why are you here, Carter?" There wasn't the slightest bit of irritation in the question. He was always glad to see her. Thrilled really. He was just genuinely curious.

Joss's eyes scanned the numerous desktop icons, not really seeing what they were while she tried to act like he was having no affect on her. "Was in the neighborhood. Literally. Didn't think you'd actually be here, though."

He nodded, figuring that Donnelly had had this place checked out while he was imprisoned at Rikers and had briefed Carter about it. And she, being who she was, would have wanted to see it for herself.

Feeling she was back in control of herself, she sat back in the chair and turned towards him. "How the hell do you pull this off?"

Reese shrugged. "Well. My direct supervisor—"

"Howard French," she quipped.

He nodded. "His office is on the west coast. He gives me all of my assignments. And I telecommute mostly."

She nodded to herself, then shook her head in disbelief at how it had all come together. "I'm just glad you and Finch put this together. Otherwise…."

Reese's eyes softened as he looked at her and he felt his heart constrict in an unfamiliar fashion. It didn't make much sense that she cared about him, even if only a tenth of how much he cared about her, but he was grateful for it anyway.

Carter changed the conversation this time, looking at his computer screen again and moving the mouse as she spoke. "So what do you do all day when you're here?"

He stared at her for a moment longer before leaning over and covering her hand on the mouse with his, guiding the cursor across the screen.

Joss tensed up again. It was only the touch of his hand but it was just on the other side of too much. Did he have to smell so good, too? She actually stopped breathing for a few seconds. She knew he was playing a game. One they'd played a few times before. But this felt different. It was different. He wasn't working. By the looks of things, he didn't have shit else he was supposed to be doing. He was in a suit with a tie, pretending to be someone else. They were alone in his fake office and he was deliberately touching her.

She'd thought about it. More than a few times. Advancing to the next level of this game they played. How could she not? John was fine as hell. That was the first thing working against her. Plus, he'd decided a long time ago to care about her, to look out for her and Taylor when he had no reason to do so since she'd been out to get him. Strike two. Then there was what he did for a living: helping people to his own detriment at times. Not to mention he was her type: tall, quiet, strong, military background. Strikes three, four, five, six, and seven. Usually she was able to have those thoughts, remember the insanity of the world he was entrenched in, and then ignore them, but it was getting increasingly difficult. Even though she didn't want the complications, part of her wanted him to want her. Wanted that validation that he was as attracted to her as she was to him.

She kept her eyes on the screen, following the cursor while she focused on trying to slow her heart rate. He clicked on the start menu and she smiled as he double-clicked on her finger on the mouse, opening up the solitaire program. "Solitaire, huh?" Her throat was dry but her voice sounded normal and it helped her to relax. He removed his hand from hers and sat back, which helped a lot more. She shrugged. "I can't lie. I do Bejeweled on my phone when it's slow."

Reese chuckled knowingly. "And Candy Crush."

She cut her eye at him, instantly reminded that he had no boundaries. "And Candy Crush."

"You got a pretty high score, too, Carter."

She cut her eye at him again, trying not to smile.

John watched for a bit as she directed her attention back to the screen and played for a few moments. "Out of questions, Detective?"

She kept her eyes on the monitor. "How do you guys get your information?" She didn't know why she asked really. Couldn't even say it was out of habit. She hadn't asked in so long. She just tossed it in there while she had his undivided attention.

After a pregnant pause, he finally responded. "I can't."

He spoke it softly, resignedly. Like he'd posed the question to himself in her stead a million times and still didn't like the answer. She smirked and nodded to herself. She wasn't upset. She hadn't expected an answer anyway.

After everything they'd been through, Reese hated having to keep her in the dark. Hated that she might be thinking he didn't trust her enough.

When she closed out the game of solitaire with a sigh, rose from his chair and started to round the desk, he reached out and grabbed her by the waist, both hands on either side, holding her in place. Because he wasn't ready for her to leave. And he definitely didn't want her to leave on that note. He locked his eyes onto hers. "It's not my secret to tell." He held her there, positioned between his legs as he sat on his desk, feeling the heat from her small frame seep into his fingers, his palms, his entire body.

Feeling his strong hands on her waist shocked her more than it should have and she focused on relaxing her body so that he wouldn't notice how his touch affected her. How the way he was looking at her and how close they were and how charged the air suddenly felt affected her. She swallowed and nodded, letting him know she wasn't upset. That she understood. That she knew he would tell her if he could at this point. After everything they'd been through together. "I know." Her fingers itched to reach out then, to touch him like he was touching her. His face, his shoulders, his chest. Somewhere, anywhere. But she had just enough restraint left that she didn't. The power of surrender was still too mighty for her to take on.

His thumbs moved, drawing small, light circles on her waist. He knew he felt something for her. He'd known for awhile now. Ever since he noticed how often he wanted to be in the same room with her, and how often it made him feel like the only other time he'd been in love. It wasn't just that she was sexy as hell, with curves for days and nights, it was that she understood him, knew what he was about the moment she'd met him, and he'd understood and known her just as quickly. And right now, being in this small, private space with her, being this damn close finally….No work, no danger. Just letting his heart rest easy in her hands…He felt less guilty. He felt less closed off. He felt less abnormal. He felt free. "I do trust you…...with everything."

He'd told her that like she doubted it. Like she could ever doubt it. "Why?" She didn't ask because she wanted an answer. It was enough that he did. She probably wouldn't be able to handle it anyway. But her brain told her mouth she needed to say something to prolong this feeling, to delay the moment when he let her go.

John stood up, keeping his hands around her waist and his eyes on her widening ones. There was no way in the world he could explain why. He had no list of reasons or even just one. He just….did. "I don't know why, Joss." He did know why he leaned down and kissed her at that moment.

It was because he had to.

The uncertainty, the sweetness of the moment was no match for the flame that took over almost immediately. Oft denied urges had a way of torpedoing patience and finesse. John cupped her face with trembling hands, the slip slide of their tongues sending rapid fire jolts straight to his groin. He walked her backward until his body pinned hers to the wall beside Warren's fake certificates and diplomas. This was real, though, he thought. Very real. Then, when he could no longer distinguish his passion from hers, he forgot where he was, what time of the day it was, what the world was like before his mouth finally met hers.

Joss ran her hands up and down his chest and sides under his suit jacket. She felt powerless under his onslaught. His focus, the sheer size of him as he pressed into her excited her more than she would ever care to admit. She didn't protest when his hands pulled her shirt out of her pants, nor when they forced the shirt apart instead of taking the buttons one by one. Instead, she held his head to her breasts after he quickly discovered her bra's front clasp and freed them. Both nipples wet from his attention, her tongue welcomed his back after its brief excursion and her fingers buried into his closely cropped hair.

Feeling constricted and starting to sweat, John brought his hands up to his neck, making quick work of loosening and disposing of his tie. He smiled against her mouth as Joss followed his lead, her slim fingers rushing to unbutton his shirt. Taking his suit jacket off and letting it fall to the floor, he pulled away from her for only a few seconds. He looked at her moist, parted lips. Her open suit jacket, open button down shirt. Unfastened bra, perfectly round breasts and taut nipples. Truly the sexiest thing his eyes had ever seen.

Already as hard as he was going to get, he interrupted her work with his shirt to lift her up, turning to set her on his desk on top of the desk pad calendar. His mouth found his way back to hers while he used his thumbs to circle her nipples.

Starting for his shirt again, Joss felt her need for him peak and changed her course. Soon his pants and underwear were pooled at his feet and she was lifting her butt so that he could do the same with hers. Her naked ass on his calendar, knowing her wetness was smudging whatever fake appointments Warren had on his schedule, made her suddenly hyper-aware of where they were doing this. Of the fact that she could see the entire New York City skyline from her vantage point and anybody could walk in at any second. But he suddenly dropped into his chair, removed her shoes along with the clothing that had tangled around her ankles, and she forgot again.

"John." Her head lolled. Her ears were ringing so loudly it sounded like the din of an oncoming train. She believed it was happening. She did. That she was spread eagle on John Warren's desk down on Wall Street with John Reese's head between her thighs. She just could not believe how incredible it felt.

Even though he probably could have stayed down there forever, tasting her and pleasuring the both of them, the one thing Reese always knew he would never have enough of was time. He needed one more thing before heaven shut him out. He laved his tongue around her clit one last time before he lifted his head and took another moment to study her. She was wide open to him—literally—and panting. Entirely too sexy for him to handle with any kind of restraint. He stood up quickly, leaning over her body to kiss her while he finally claimed his prize.

An entirely involuntary cry left Joss's lips seconds later because she was so stimulated that she came the moment he filled her. It caught her off guard and she could only remember it happening one other time, and she'd ended up marrying him. She shook from head to toe, clutching his shoulders rhythmically as she waited for her teeth to stop chattering. She buried her face in his neck, feeling the roiling tension within him as he stilled and waited for her.

When she stopped convulsing around him, he moved inside her. Slowly at first. Because he was going to finish just as quickly as she had if he didn't. He savored it. Her face buried in his neck, her arms around him, the feel of her tightly enveloping his thrusts in slippery warmth. Then she lifted her head and looked into his eyes and the tenderness left him. His pace quickened, settling somewhere just shy of frenzy.

The power behind his fucking sent her back onto her elbows and then flat on her back. He held onto her hips so she knew she wouldn't be propelled from the desk, but she was about to leave him, about to come again, and she grasped the edge of the desk above her head to try to steady herself before he drove her headfirst off the cliff and into a bottomless abyss.

Reese held onto her, this angel of no mercy, as waves of pleasure sustained his body and Joss transfixed his mind. He could tell she was overcome, locked in her own pleasurable madness, her body writhing, her mouth open, her eyes screwed shut, her breasts bouncing up and down as he sheathed himself inside her over and over. He shifted his hold from her hips to those hypnotizing breasts, leaning down to kiss the spot just below her breast bone before licking his way to one nipple and then the other.

Like what she knew was about to happen, that indescribable ecstasy slammed into her like a boulder and her body shuddered to a halt. But then John surprised her, maybe even himself, too, and got knocked down with her, releasing a roar she never would have expected out of him. The sound, like the flip of a switch, brought her awareness back to their surroundings as she laid there cradling his head to her chest. She turned toward the door, panic starting to creep in, the fear of being caught like this superseding any awkwardness that tried to come out to play. "John." She turned her head back, trying to look into his face. "We need to get up. What if somebody comes in?" He wasn't responding as urgently as she wanted him to so she lowered her hands to his sides, gripping him tightly to get his attention. He could sit here half naked as long as he wanted, but her ass was getting dressed.

He lifted his head lazily, still breathless. "It's okay, Carter. They knock first."

She turned toward the door again as if she didn't believe him. Her voice came out in a harsh whisper. "What if somebody saw something?" The glass around his doorframe was frosted, but she was positive his fake co-workers still could have seen the silhouettes of two people having sex on the desk. She looked around for a clock on the wall. Dammit, how long had she been in here? Shit, shit, shit!

He smiled, his eyes full of sparkle and mirth. "You can't see the desk from the door, Joss."

It irritated her that he was unbothered but his calm was starting to rub off on her. She looked back at the door again. He was right. His desk was on the far left side of the room, not in view of anybody curious about any noise coming from his office.

She turned back to him and watched as he stood up, grabbing her hands to bring her to a seated position. She watched as his eyes dropped to her chest and he ran his left index finger over her right nipple as if bidding it adieu before reaching inside her shirt to fasten her bra and then button her blouse. That feeling, the one of being taken care of that he always made her feel even when she wanted to wring his neck, covered her like a blanket and her emotions started to get the best of her. She was grateful when he reached the last free button and broke the silence.

"I think I need you to be in the neighborhood more often, Detective."

She laughed as he gripped her waist and pulled her from the desk and onto her feet, appreciating both the levity and his continued manhandling of her. Before she could, he reached down and handed her the rest of her clothes. She stepped into her panties and pulled them up while he did the same with his pants and underwear. "I did not come here for this." She pulled her pants up her legs next.

John smirked, watching her put herself back together. Missing her body. High off of having had her body. Wanting her to give him her heart, too. He had wanted to lighten the mood but now he needed to know. He stepped toward her, pointedly keeping his hands to himself. "Not a bad detour, though?"

Carter looked up into his face, knowing what he was asking. Knowing she needed time before she could conclude definitively either way. But she hoped, in the end, it wouldn't be a bad one. She shook her head. "I don't think so." The tiny smile that lit up his face made her day. She gave him a shy one in return and pulled her phone out of her pocket. "I gotta go, John."

He nodded, picking up his suit jacket and putting it on as they walked over to the door.

Nobody stared at them as they walked down the hall and reached the receptionist's desk. Joss turned to him, prepared to shake his hand and get on with the fake goodbyes. But he nodded toward the door, indicating that he was going to walk her out. As they waited by the elevator, John shoved his hands into his pockets.

"First the FBI, now a detective….Warren's going to be all the talk at the water cooler."

She laughed as they stepped into the elevator. "Maybe he should try to stay out of trouble for once."

"Not if he gets such pretty detectives to drop by his office."

Carter knew it made no sense to blush after what they'd just done, but she couldn't help it. Recovering quickly, she teased him. "Aww. I'll make sure I send Fusco next time." She watched as he chuckled.

He held open the door for her as they reached the street. "You said you were in the neighborhood."

She nodded and looked down the street. "Yeah, down at the Braddock building. Checking on an alibi."

"And?"

"He's a lying son of a bitch."

John Warren chuckled again, making a split second decision. "Go get him, Detective," he whispered as he stepped toward her, cupping her elbow and kissing her briefly on the lips.

Stunned and a little paranoid about who had seen them, she forgot to even say goodbye as she took the few steps toward her car parked along the street.

He waited until she pulled off, looking up at the clear, blue sky and smiling to himself before he walked back into the building.

~End