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There's been an uptick in gang activity around one particular area of the city in recent weeks and while Detective John Riley can only do so much when it comes to fighting back, John Reese, accompanied by his wonderfully proficient friend Dutch, is capable of doing so much more.

The restaurant they're currently in is upscale, one of the nicer places John has been since his arrival in Darrow. The people at the tables around them have money, he can see it in every move they make, in every word they say, and John had told Dutch to dress the part and she certainly hadn't let him down. They're here as if they're on a date, both of them looking quite impressive if he does say so himself, but he also knows they're both armed to the teeth.

And they're both going to need to be. There's nothing at all John has seen here tonight that will lead to legitimate arrests, but he's heard enough in passing conversation to know there are two men in particular they just can't let go. Neither of them are particularly well connected, which means teaching them a lesson isn't going to backfire on them, but they're both despicable enough that they can't be left untouched.

John is sure Dutch would be inclined to agree.

He smiles at her over the table and nods toward the empty bottle of wine. It's nothing more than a prop, they're both on the same glass they'd started dinner with and John's had barely two sips, but he picks the glass up and gestures with it every so often, giving the impression that he's been drinking. No one looks at them more than once and if they do, it tends to be appreciative more than anything.

"The pair sitting over there near the door," he says, flashing Dutch another smile. "We're going to need to leave not long after they do. I think they need our attention."

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"Oh, is that right?" Dutch asks, tilting her head and lightly touching her chest. She laughs and, to most, it's going to sound completely sincere. It's not but she's done it enough that it certainly sounds like it.

"And what kind of attention should we be giving them?" Dutch asks. She's not going to kill anyone, of course, but she knows John isn't going to make her do that either. She's just curious about what they are going to get up to with these individuals.

"I hope it's something fun," she singsongs.

She's good at this, easily as good as Kara ever was, and in another world that would have made John nervous, even if he never would have shown it. He never would have been able to trust her, never would have been able to see past all the ways in which she can pretend to be someone and something else, but he's come a long way from the man Kara tried to kill.

Carter and Finch changed him. Shaw changed him. Now Karen has changed him. It means he can trust Dutch now.

"I think you'll find it fun," he assures her with a smile. To any outside observer, it looks like they're flirting, but John is good at what he does, too. He may not usually be a man of many words, but when he has to be, he can play the role just as well as she can. "They're awful. They need to learn not to be awful."

"Oooh, you say the sweetest things," Dutch croons, batting her eyelashes and throwing her head back to laugh. It gives her the chance to take a peek at those they're targeting, memorize what they're wearing and what they look like. Now that the information is there, it won't be going anywhere anytime soon.

"I wish I would have dressed up for the occasion," Dutch adds with another laugh. "It's been so long since I've made people who are terrible not be terrible anymore. I should have worn my Sunday best."

"You look beautiful," he answers and although this is all an act, that much is true. John doesn't dwell on what ifs very often, but he has to imagine, in a different life, he and Dutch would have found themselves in a very different arrangement. The friendship they have now is important to him, more than he knows how to say, but he's hardly blind to how stunning she really is.

"And deadly," he adds, his smile growing just a little. "My favourite combination."

He reaches for his water glass and takes a sip, uses it to cover his mouth just for a moment so he can ask, "You're armed, right?" He assumes she is, Dutch isn't the sort to go into something like this without some sort of weapon, but he needs to be absolutely sure what they're working with before they try anything.

"Is that even a question you have to ask?" Dutch says, tilting her head and fixing him with a look of amusement at him even asking the question. She's armed. She's always armed. She very rarely leaves her apartment without at least sliding one dagger into place and, more likely than not, she wears a multitude of daggers and guns.

She's not going to be caught unawares in this city. That would be stupid.

"But, if you want an honest answer, yes, I am most definitely arms," she drawls, nodding. "I've got a few fun things hidden on my person right now. Lots of things that can cause all sorts of damage."

"I wouldn't think so," John answers, taking out his wallet and placing enough money under the edge of his plate to cover their meal. Their bill hasn't come yet, but he's kept track of what they've ordered and he's worked out an appropriate tip. Just in case they need to make a quick exit, which is looking more and more like it's going to be the case.

"But if I'm dragging you into a dangerous situation, I just like to be sure," he adds, keeping his voice low, his gaze on Dutch. "I'm not sure I'd like to face anyone's wrath if something were to happen."

Dutch doesn't talk much about her romantic life, but John knows enough.

"Oh, him," Dutch says, waving a hand. "I fight my own battles but it's cute that you're worried about him. If he even tried to defend me, I'd break his nose. He'd try and I'd be momentarily touched but then I'd break his nose before I broke the nose of whoever caused him to want to defend me in the first place."

So, John doesn't need to worry about that. She reaches over and pats his hand, amused and delighted that he thinks she might need someone to step in and fight her battles.

"Worry about my wrath," she tells him, a laugh in her voice, "and not his."

"I always worry about your wrath," John answers with a smile and while that isn't necessarily true -- mostly because knows not to cross her -- he does think it counts as a sign of his opinion of Dutch. He knows she wouldn't do anything unnecessarily cruel, but he also knows not to cross her.

Not that it's the sort of thing she has to worry about. John has longed ago learned his lesson about loyalty.

"And I think we're on," he says as he gets up from their table, then goes around to Dutch's chair, helping her out of it. None of this is because he thinks she needs it, but at the moment it helps to keep up the appearances of a real date. Across the restaurant, the men he's been watching are already putting on their coats.

Dutch can play this part and she can play it well. She rises from her seat gracefully, reaching out to put a hand on his arm and give it a squeeze before going that step further and kissing her cheek.

"I'll follow you," she murmurs into his ear before dropping back down from her tiptoes and smiling widely at her.

"I hope we're not going to end our date here, handsome," she croons, tucking her arm into his for the moment. "I'm definitely not ready to let you get away yet."

"I'm not going anywhere," John answers and from one of the nearby tables he sees someone cast an appreciative glance over Dutch. She's good at playing her part, they both are, and it's clear anyone who has overheard them believes they're on a date.

An especially hot date, apparently, and that works in their favour. If anyone is questioned, all they'll remember is the couple who couldn't wait to get home. No one will suspect them of much else.

Once they're out of the restaurant, he doesn't drop the act. The two men are ahead, turning a corner into an alley and John drops his head so he can speak close to Dutch's ear.

"Drunk couple stumbles into the wrong place?" he asks. It's an easy part to play and it almost always takes them off guard.

"You lead," Dutch says, nodding her agreement to the act. It won't be a difficult act to play at considering she's done it before. A lot of people throw a blind eye to a couple who are stumbling and slurring their speech while at the same time, try to climb all over each other.

She loops her arm around his tighter and leans against him, laughing loudly at a joke he hasn't told. She's curious as to what these two men are doing down that alley but she knows it can't be anything good.

"I'm feeling very drunk already," she says as they approach the mouth of the alley.

The men turn as John stumbles into the mouth of the alley with Dutch, but they turn away again when John hits the wall and then pulls Dutch toward him. When he speaks, his words are slurred, affecting the behaviour of a man appropriately drunk for the end of a really good date. This is nothing worth paying attention to as far as the men are concerned.

They're working at a door. Given everything they'd been talking about earlier, it's possible they're breaking in somewhere to steal something, but John suspects it's something a touch more sinister than that. There had been talk about drugs, about a woman, maybe someone held against her will. He doesn't care why, but he just needs to see them get through that door.

"Once the door's open, we follow," he says, leaning close to Dutch. "In the restaurant they kept mentioning a woman."

Dutch slides her arms around John's neck but her grip is loose, giving him plenty of space to move if need be. She rubs the back of his neck lightly and smiles at him all the while listening to his words. She slants a glance in the direction of the door but covers her observation with a laugh and dropping her forehead onto his shoulder.

She nods and then laughs again like he's said something particularly hilarious. "Going in armed or unarmed? Should I draw my weapon before we get in there?"

"You, yes," John decides in a split second. It's not about protecting Dutch, it's about how they'll look to any potential women being kept inside. If these men are trying to start a prostitution ring like he thinks they might be, the women are likely frightened and probably feel like they can't trust anyone. If a man of his size comes in first holding a weapon, they're not likely to think of him as someone on their side.

But if he comes in beside Dutch and if Dutch is the one with the weapon, they'll respond much more favourably.

"I'll go in first," he says, moving them in the direction of the door. They're being ignored now and the door is closing. "But I need you right beside me. If there are women in there, they need to see you before me."

"Got it," Dutch says, reaching into the back of her pants to unholster the weapon's that's there. "I'll be right beside you."

Dutch really hopes there aren't any women in there. Not because she wants this to be a bust but she's seen men like this before, men who treat women with disrespect and violence and if it's too bad, she can't say she won't go ballistic on the men involved.

She won't kill them, she knows, but it will be hard to stop her from rearranging their faces until they're unrecognizable.

John slips forward quietly, knowing Dutch will be right there with him. It's easy working with her, seamless in a way he hasn't had in awhile, and he's lucky in that regard. He's not an easy man to read, but with the right partner, things tend to just go the way they're supposed to and he knows he can rely on Dutch.

He reaches the door just before it closes, slides his fingers around it and holds it open just a crack. There are voices from inside, the two men from the restaurant, and then he catches the sound of crying. A woman. She's not asking for anything, she's not even particularly loud, but she can't be there be choice.

Looking back at Dutch, John nods just once, then pulls open the door and heads inside.

Dutch's face hardens when she hears the addition of a new voice. A woman that doesn't sound like she's there because she wants to be. No one cries like that out of joy and pleasure (and if they do, Dutch hasn't ever encountered them).

She draws her own weapon and steps close to John, keeping the barest hint of distance between them so they both have room to move. She wishes she could see through the wall so she'd know where the men were standing before they went in but she's going to have to rely on her reflexes.

With a deep breath, Dutch moves in right on John's heels, gun cocked and eyes moving through the darkness of the room.

The light is low, but there's enough that John's eyes adjust relatively quickly and he scans the room as they enter. Four mean instead of two -- the ones from the restaurant and two others who were already in the room -- and two women, huddled together at the far end. One of them is crying, the other stroking her hair.

The rage that rises in John is almost unbearable, but his expression doesn't change. Men like these are the ones who infuriate him above almost all else. John is trained well, he can turn off his feelings, but when he sees a man abusing a woman, he sees Jessica. Over and over, he sees only Jessica and it breaks his heart.

"Who the hell are-"

"Shut up," John answers before the man can even finish his question. This isn't going to be a conversation, this is going to be a fight. His eyes flicker toward Dutch and he smiles, just the barest hint. "Let's put them all down. I don't care how."

"No killing," she says, addressing the words to John but reminding herself as well since it can be hard to remember that at times like this, "unless it's to save your life."

She flicks a quick nod at the girls and adds, "Or theirs."

These two men are scums of the universe but Dutch still doesn't want to kill them. She's done that far too much already in her life and if she can avoid it, she's going to.

That won't stop her from stomping the shit out of these two men but she doesn't want to kill them. Not today.

"No killing," John agrees, although he expects it goes without saying that he also agrees with her terms. If Dutch ends up in danger or if the men get too close to either of the women, he has absolutely no qualms about ending their lives.

It's probably for the best he sticks with kneecaps, though.

Both the men come at them at once and John's arm shoots out, grabs the first man by the arm, wrenches it back hard. He'd been going for a weapon and John doesn't know if it's a knife or a gun he has concealed. He doesn't care. Either way, he's not going to get it. The bones in his wrist snap as John yanks his hand back hard and the man gives a strangled scream.

The other two men start for the women.

"Oh, that's not going to happen," Dutch says, pushing off her back foot and launching herself at the two men. She slams the body of her gun against the back of his neck, hard enough to crumple him to the ground for the moment.

When the other man turns, Dutch grabs him by the back of the neck and brings her leg up, slamming his nose down hard enough against her knee that blood immediately starts flowing. She grabs him by the collar and shoves him backwards, stalking him like a predator.

"You're looking a little rough," Dutch croons before slamming the heel of her boot against his stomach.

Even in the dim light John sees the flash of the blade as the other man from the restaurant raises it. In an instant he has his gun out, takes aim, and fires a shot into the man's knee. He goes down with a scream of pain, clutching his shattered kneecap, and one of the women screams as well. As John stands, he holsters his gun quickly, not wanting to frighten either of the women any more than he already might have.

Dutch had been in danger and he'd employed his favourite method of ending that danger. He doesn't need to keep his gun out for anything else.

He steps forward, delivers one hard kick to the face of the man Dutch had hit with her gun and he goes down again. For good this time, by the looks of it.

With one foot on the throat of the man she's taken down, she spins and looks at John, looks at the man that's crumpled at her feet with a knee that's oozing blood.

"Well, his dancing days are over," she says, slightly amused. She doesn't let the man underneath her up while she turns her attention to the two women. The scene is momentarily neutralized and she wants to check on them.

"Hey, we're here to help you," Dutch promises, tone soft. "Are you okay? Do you need an ambulance?"

One of the women refuses to look up, but the other, the one who'd been doing the comforting, she lifts her head and looks first at John, then at Dutch. She doesn't speak, but she nods, and John nods in return.

"Help them," he says to Dutch. "Get them an ambulance, I'll restrain the men."

And then they'll need to get out of here before the police or paramedics arrive. He doesn't think he needs to say that, he thinks Dutch will reach that conclusion easily on her own, but he catches and holds her gaze for just a moment anyway. Tonight he's not here as Detective John Riley. He's not even here as John Reese. Tonight he's the Man in the Suit again and he finds it's a role he's missed. He can do more good under the radar.

But he also can't be caught.

Dutch takes her boot off the man's throat and gives him one last kick in the side before she moves closer to the women. They're still clearly scared so she moves slow, holstering her weapon and extending her hand.

"Come on," she coaxes, gesturing them towards her. "Come with me. Let's get out of here. You don't need to see this anymore. Let's go outside and get some fresh air and get you some medical attention."

It takes a little more persuasion for them to finally move but when they do, Dutch wraps her arms around the both of them and leads them outside. She tucks them against one of the walls and then uses her phone to call for medical help, not using any names as she does.

Dutch is really good at this part, too, better than John usually is. It's a good thing he has her here, because while he really does try to be compassionate and warm toward the people he's helping, too often his focus is on the criminals. And while they deserve his focus and his anger, he should be better able to do what Dutch is doing now.

For now, though, he can focus. He smiles grimly at the men who are still conscious and then begins a slow inspection of the room they're in. He keeps his gun trained on them as he goes and none of them have moved by the time he's found enough rope to tie them up and although there are a few protests, he gets them tied up with relative ease.

"Smart decision," he says as he surveys his work. "I could get her back in here in a second."

And with that said, with the men restrained, he heads out to meet Dutch.

The women have calmed down enough to tell her a bit about what's happened and while she won't be there to tell the police, she does keep it mind because she absolutely knows how to make anonymous phone calls, if that should need to happen.

When she spots John, she half smiles and excuses herself from the two women but doesn't go far.

"Everything okay in there?"

"They won't be going anywhere," he says, moving toward Dutch. The women are still in need of help, but at least they're out of that room and away from whatever those men might have had planned for them. Dutch might know what those plans were, she might have a better idea of where these women would have ended up without their help.

It's cowardly of him, but he's not sure he wants to know.

"An ambulance is on the way?" he asks. He can't hear the sirens yet, but once they start up, they'll need to leave. The women will be safe, the men really won't be going anywhere, and they'll be arrested and prosecuted. They've seen his face, so he'll have to keep his distance from the case, but he'll look in on it from time to time.

"Should be here at any moment," Dutch says before stepping over to the women again. She whispers to them what they have to do, how they have to stay here and be strong and how she can't stay. They protest at first but Dutch promises that she's going to be checking in with them in a few days and that she won't forget them.

It doesn't exactly settle them but it's enough that they nod and cling to each other for support.

"We can go at anytime," Dutch says, nodding. "They're all right."

John watches the women for a moment longer before nodding to Dutch. He's left the door they went through wide open so the police can't miss what he's left behind, but even if they do, he's sure one of he women will point them in the right direction.

It's a strange feeling, moments like these. They have to walk away from it in order to be able to continue to help people, but he still always feels like he should be doing more. There's nothing else, though, nothing that won't result in both of them being arrested, so he takes a step back, away from the women, then turns his back on them.

He's turned his back on a lot of people. It never feels good.

"I'm glad you were with me," he says to Dutch, his voice low.

"I'm glad I could help," Dutch murmurs, nodding. She resists the urge to look back at the two women since she knows they need to stand on their own and tell their story. She's not going to be able to be there for them constantly even if she does intend to check up on them.

"No scrapes or scratches?" Dutch asks, looking over at him. "No need to make a stop at the hospital for either of us?"

It had been a pretty cut and dry operation. The two men had obviously not been prepared for them which had given them the advantage. It could have been a different story if those two men were a little more well trained but they'd gotten lucky and been stuck with two idiots.

"I'm fine," John answers, then looks over at Dutch. "Are you?"

He thinks she is. She had been quick and efficient, doing what was necessary with ease. She's better than Kara ever was and that thought gives him an odd sense of pride that he's not sure he completely understands. It's the idea, maybe, that he's found himself friends with people who can still do what Kara did without turning as twisted as she had. Dutch is a good person, a loyal friend, and while he'd trusted Kara, too, he knows he won't find himself on the wrong end of Dutch's gun.

Not unless he's done something to deserve it.

"I'm a little pissed off but not at you," Dutch tells him with a small smile. "At those men. At men in general who think their gender entitles them to treat women that way. It's just irritating."

There were plenty of good men especially in Darrow but for one good man, there were five bad ones. For all the people like herself who got lucky to find such good men, there were people like the women they'd just left who'd been hurt.

"It's just disheartening," Dutch says, sighing. "I know I can't change all men but I just wish things like this wouldn't happen."

"Yeah," he says, then he's quiet for a moment. There are a lot of things about his life he's told Dutch, but he's kept Jessica really close to his heart. Karen knows, but he's told Karen more than he's told most people in his life.

"It's something I feel very strongly about," he says, although he knows it might come as a surprise to most people that he feels strongly about anything. "The woman I... her name was Jessica and we were together until I decided to stay with the CIA. The man she ended up marrying instead of me was- he abused her and then killed her."

Ever since then, he's had an especially difficult time dealing with men who commit violence against women. He hates that it had taken a personal experience for him to become so invested, but at least he's here now.

"I'm sorry."

Her stomach turns the tiniest bit as she remembers her own experience with something like that. It's not the same, not really, because there had been an out of his control excuse behind it but it's still not something she can readily forgive.

"It happened once to me. Just once because I refused to let him close after that," she says, jaw tight. "Something had been done to him to cause him to...snap but I still can't trust him. Not after that."

Maybe some day she and D'av will be back to a spot where they can be friends. She's just not sure.

"I'm sorry, too," he says. There's nothing either of them can say to undo what the other has experienced, but John knows what Dutch has been through is significantly worse than his own experience. He knows she can take care of herself, but he's never once feared for his safety in a situation like that. Even before he'd been trained by the military, John had never been afraid to walk down a dark alley or to be alone in a group of men. That's a privilege not everyone has.

"We can make a difference, though," he says as they walk. They don't hurry, which would only draw attention to them, but the act they'd been engaged in earlier has been dropped. "Even if it's just bit by bit."

"I try to keep that in mind," Dutch tells him, nodding. While she thinks she's mostly past her own experience, it's always going to be there with her, a dark mark upon her heart and soul. D'av will have to deal with the consequences too and while they're relationship might never be the same, she hopes that they can salvage some of that.

"I appreciate you letting me come along on this job," she tells him, nodding. "It was good to be able to feel like I could help. And it was nice to be able to break a few bones again."

"That's always fun," he agrees with a small smile, looking over at Dutch from the corner of his eye. They've both been through so much and there's not a lot that can be done to take that away, but he's also not sure either of them would be inclined to do so. Their experiences have made them who they are.

Jessica is the only thing he thinks he would undo.

"Let's go out more often," he suggests. "You make a very proficient fake date."

And there aren't many people he's as comfortable with as he is Dutch. They work well together, they fight well together, and in a pinch he would trust her to have his back. There's a lot to be said about that sort of trust.

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