This turned out longer and more angsty than I intended but I'm happy with it! Enjoy...
Heart heavy with guilt and honestly a bit squeamish, Donnelly didn't know if he had the courage to walk into the prison's infirmary where he knew John would be waiting. But he had to at least try to apologize. He couldn't just have the man of his dreams beat up and not even say he was sorry; that would have been just cruel! Taking in a deep breath, Donnelly gathered up all of his courage and stepped inside.
Once he saw John, his heart dropped into his stomach. The man's perfect face was bruised, bloodied, and swollen and it was all his fault. He cleared his throat to make his presence known. John opened his eyes but didn't speak. "Hey, John," Donnelly said awkwardly. "I, um, brought you these." He held out a bouquet of flowers to which John raised his eyebrows at. Setting down the flowers, Donnelly knew he should start with an apology. "Look, John, I am so sorry. That was completely out of line and probably the worst thing I have ever done in my life. I just want you to know that I really care about you and I would never want to hurt you. I thought you would be able to defend yourself. I don't expect you to ever forgive me and you shouldn't. I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry."
With his sad puppy dog eyes, Donnelly hung his head and waited for John to start yelling at him just like Carter had. But when he spoke, John's voice was a calm and cool as ever, if not a little bit strained from the pain and punches to the throat.
"You did what you thought you had to," John shrugged with a hopeless tone.
The FBI agent shook his head. "No, I went too far. I didn't have to do that." Noticing that one of the gashes above John's eye was still bleeding, Donnelly stepped closer to the bed, picked up a conveniently located washcloth, and began to gently dab at the wound. He'd always fantasized about taking care of a wounded solider, but he'd never thought the injuries would have been caused even indirectly by himself.
John closed his eyes and sighed. He knew it was messed up but for some reason knowing that Donnelly cared about him made this whole prison ordeal just a tad bit better. Carter was on his side, Finch was doubtlessly trying to break him out, and Donnelly was madly in love with him. It just made him feel less alone knowing that so many people cared about him, no matter how messed up and misguided that care may be.
He opened his eyes again and his gaze locked with Donnelly's. The FBI agent froze and then found himself tentatively leaning in. When John did not back away, Donnelly placed a gentle kiss on the prisoner's swollen lips, careful not to hurt him, and then slowly pulled back. "Even if you aren't the Man in the Suit," he began softly, "you're still pretty damn sexy."
John smirked and let Donnelly kiss him again. Watching from outside the window, the warden just shook his head and walked away. What was this world coming to?
Once the doctor had cleared John to go and the prison had processed him out, Donnelly reluctantly went to get John's personal belongings, including that infamously attractive suit. It tore his heart out to have to see John go but at least he'd get to see him in that sexy suit one last time.
"Do I at least get to watch you put it on?" the FBI agent asked as he handed the clothing over to John.
The blue-eyed man shrugged and smirked. "No one's stopping you."
Casting aside any remaining shred of shame, Donnelly stood in the corner of the room and intently watched as John changed out of that god-awful orange jumpsuit and back into the suit that suited him so well, pun intended. As he watched John button up his shirt two things were very clear in Agent Donnelly's mind. One, he would probably be thinking about this moment in the shower for the rest of his life. And two, there was no way John was anyone other than the Man in the Suit.
Once he'd finished changing, the two of them walked in silence to the office where John picked up his wallet and his watch. As he stared intently, there was a cold determination building up inside of Donnelly's very soul. He had no idea how but the bastard had done it. John had somehow outsmarted the FBI and now here he was, unable to do anything as the Man in the Suit just walked away. Donnelly stuck his hands in his pockets so as to refrain from grabbing onto John and pathetically begging him to stay. Now was not the time for that.
"Goodbye, John," he said taking one step closer in the hopes of getting a goodbye kiss. Or at least a hug!
John nodded curtly and turned to walk out of the room. Donnelly stood awkwardly in the doorway watching him leave, assuring himself that John would not get away from him for long.
The Man in the Suit swaggered through the hallway of the prison as if to the beat of Eminence Front by The Who. That had certainly been an interesting experience but he was incredibly happy to finally be able to go home to Harold and Bear. Little did he know his boyfriend was currently not too far outside of the very hall he was walking through, locked and loaded, ready for a good old-fashion prison break. John was just grateful Finch hadn't burst in while he was making out with Donnelly. That sure would have been a hard one to explain.
After the prison break had been called off and he'd had some highly emotional reunion sex with Harold, John went to meet Carter on an inconspicuous bridge overlooking the New York skyline, for some reason still walking to the beat of Eminence Front. Little did he know he was being followed.
Donnelly parked his black FBI van not too far from where John and Carter were talking and glared at them for a second. He knew he never should have trusted Carter! The Man in the Suit was just too sexy for her to resist; she wanted him all to herself! Well Donnelly wasn't about to let that happen. He pulled out his comb, breath spray, and gun, and quickly got himself ready in the rear view mirror.
When John and Carter started walking, Donnelly looked himself over one more time and got out of the car, heart pounding furiously in his chest as he made his way towards them.
"I couldn't have got through this without a friend to talk to," John was telling Carter.
"So was any of it true?" she asked.
Donnelly cocked his gun. "Oh I sincerely doubt that," he sneered, feeling betrayed like a teenage girl walking in on her best friend making out with her boyfriend.
As Reese and Carter looked up in horror, Donnelly was shocked to see the tears forming in John's beautiful eyes. The Man in the Suit had finally reached his breaking point. He'd just gotten rid of this guy and now he was back and pointing a gun at his head! Not even any of his ex-girlfriends had been this crazy after the break-up!
"Drop your gun, hands in the air," he ordered, hardly believing he was really doing this.
"It's over, John." Carter gave up and put her gun on the ground as John raised his hands and tried to hold back his tears.
"You got your bracelets, Carter?" Donnelly asked. "I hate to have to do this because you know I'm not into this, but put them on your friend here."
Defeatedly, John allowed Carter to handcuff him as Donnelly watched, praying that his shaking hands would not drop the gun. "See, I told you we'd catch him. But I'm afraid that's the last collar you'll ever make," he said as he got out his own handcuffs and put them on the detective. "I trusted you not to steal my man, Carter. And you threw it away. That's like the first rule of having a gay BFF; you don't steal his man!"
Donnelly took the opportunity to pretend like he was patting down John for weapons when he was really just feeling the man's sexy ass.
"I'm sorry. It was my fault," Reese said to Carter, trying his best to ignore Donnelly's wandering hands.
"Actually, John, it's not," said Donnelly, reluctantly getting up. "This little game you two have been playing, you didn't give it away; she did. I'm gonna find out exactly who you are and make you love me," he resolved before grabbing John by the arm and escorting him back to his car.
"Where are you taking us?" asked Carter once Donnelly had them securely in the back of his FBI van. Of course he'd rather just have John alone in the back of his van, but he couldn't just leave Carter handcuffed in the middle of nowhere so car sex was probably out of the question.
"To a hotel where I'll contact my therapist and figure out how to proceed with this relationship," he answered.
After a profoundly awkward silence Carter tried another question. "No back up? Going it alone, huh?"
"Well Carter," he said with all the sass he could muster. "I don't know who to trust anymore. When the Man in the Sexy Suit—er—when John here slipped away the first time I knew he had a mole, somebody on the inside, and then when his fingerprints and that spit we swapped went missing, I was forced to consider it might be you," he said, continuously taking his eyes off the road to look at John's aesthetically appealing face in a way that made his passengers fear for their safety. "And I'll admit you played a pretty good game. Until they put him in the yard alone." He tried to hide the quavering of his voice at the thought of the fresh emotional scars. "And that's when I saw it. In your eyes. Genuine concern."
By this point Donnelly had pretty much given up on looking at the road and was content to stare a John's sexy petulant face in the rearview mirror. "How did he turn you, Carter?" he asked. "What was your price? Let me guess, he's sleeping with you?"
"No price," said Carter. "We're just friends."
Donnelly sighed in frustration. No one could be just friends with someone as sexy as John and not try to jump their bones at every opportunity! "Then you've been played for a fool! You're working for an irresistibly sexy assassin and you don't even get to see him naked!"
"You don't understand, Donnelly! He's not just sexy, he's a good man! We're helping people!" cried Carter.
Donnelly scoffed, on the verge of hysterical laughter. His single-minded brain could hardly comprehend the mixture of heartbreak, betrayal, and lust coursing through him, let alone the fact that he was supposed to be paying attention to the road. "Oh god, is that what he told you!? Wake up, Carter! Your friend is nothing more than a highly trained and incredibly good looking murderer! You don't wind up with that job by accident. He chose that life. He chose to become the monster and sexy beast he is. And now you've made your choice too. I'll be unfriending you on facebook later tonight right after I update my relationship status."
Carter just chuckled sardonically and shook her head. At least if she didn't talk maybe Donnelly would keep his eyes on the road now. It was at that moment that the agent's cell phone rang and of course he answered it because driving at night whilst emotionally distressed and talking on the phone isn't dangerous at all. Who needs two hands on the wheel?
"Agent Donnelly, stop your car!" came an urgent voice on the other end of the line with a level of distress only possessed by men who knew they were about to lose their boyfriends in deadly car crashes.
"Who is this?" Donnelly asked, in no mood for this at the time.
"I'm the boyfriend of the man in your backseat!" the desperate voice cried.
Howard French? How the hell did he get this number!? "What!?" exclaimed Donnelly, the shock causing him to slam on his breaks in the middle of the road just before an intersection.
In the same instant, a giant black semi-truck came barreling through the intersection. Having not expected to make it through said intersection without the anticipated collision, the driver of the semi-truck lost control and slammed helplessly on the brakes before skidding into the side of a building and being painfully crushed to death in the metal cab.
Having heard the crash through the phone, Finch's heart was pounding rapidly and he broke into a cold sweat. "Agent Donnelly, are you alright!?" he asked.
The agent and his passengers were all staring slack-jawed at the wreck in front of them. "What? Uh, yeah, we're fine. Except this semi-truck just crashed into a building right in front of us. We're lucky you called when you did or else we would have been dead right now!"
Harold practically melted with relief. "Oh thank god. Don't go anywhere. I'll be right there." With that he hung up, leaving Donnelly staring at his phone in confusion.
"Should we go out and see if they're okay?" Carter finally broke the silence.
Donnelly nodded and got out of the van, dragging John and Carter with him over to the crash. Tentatively, the three of them peered inside.
"Well congratulations, Donnelly," said John. "You're not the craziest person to ever have been in love with me. That's my old CIA partner, Kara Stanton. She must have been jealous of the fact that you were able to catch me and wanted you dead so she could drug me and have me for herself."
"So she was going to run me over with a semi-truck?" asked Donnelly. "I think there are probably more efficient ways of getting rid of someone."
"She probably would have shot you in the head too," said John calmly.
"Well that seems a bit overkill," Donnelly remarked.
John shrugged. "She always had a flare for the dramatic."
At that moment Finch pulled up in his fancy car and quickly hopped out, limping as fast as he could towards John. "John!" he exclaimed.
"Harold," Reese grinned with relief, running over to him and kissing him passionately.
Donnelly furrowed his brow in confusion. This man adorable bespectacled man looked nothing like the ugly old bastard from facebook. "Wait, you're not Howard French," he said.
"Correct, Agent Donnelly, I'm not. That was just one of my many aliases."
"How did you get my phone number? It was almost as if you knew that car crash was going to happen!" he exclaimed.
"That's because I did, Agent," Finch said. "You see, John and I have secret system, a Machine that spies on you every hour of every day."
"Why would you want to spy on me?" asked Donnelly. "That's almost as creepy as what I've been doing to John!"
"It spies on everyone, Agent," explained Finch. "It gives me the social security numbers of anyone who is about to be involved in a crime. A few minutes ago it gave me yours because you were about to be murdered." The geeky but strangely attractive millionaire glanced down at the wreckage of the crash.
"You saved my life," said Donnelly, more than a little shocked. He'd put this man and his boyfriend through hell and he'd still saved his life!
"It's what we do, Agent," said Finch. "Now I suppose you're going to want to arrest me as well so that you can finally have John to yourself."
The FBI agent's first instinct was to say yes, throw his spare pair of cuffs on the guy, and toss him in the backseat with Carter, but instead he continued to stand there and stare. He looked down at the blood pooling around the wrecked vehicle that could have just as easily been his own and then back at John and his boyfriend who had not let go of each other since they'd been reunited. The look of true love in both of their eyes was enough to break Agent Donnelly's fragile heart. He'd have to be a completely heartless dick to want to tear them apart. He owed this man his life and there was no way he could take John away from him now. After seeing them together there was no doubt in Donnelly's mind that John belonged with Harold.
"No," he decided, earning him quite shocked looks from the other three. "You saved my life. Besides, you and John clearly belong together… and I can't tear that apart. If I had known you were helping people I never would have…" he trailed off and shook his head, remembering all of the crazy stuff he had done over the past few days. "You can go. I won't bother you anymore."
With that, he pulled the key to the handcuffs out of his pocket and proceeded to make his way over to John and release him. "There, you're free," he sighed.
Looking down at the dismal and defeated FBI agent, John couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. "Hey, I'm sure there's a man in a suit out there for you somewhere; it's just not me," he said softly.
Donnelly sighed reluctantly and looked once more into those icy blue eyes. "Goodbye, John," he said, then much to his surprise, those eyes began to lean in and for a brief instant, Donnelly once again felt John's lips against his.
Heart still aflutter from hearing his first name on John's lips, Nicholas Donnelly took a breath to collect himself and went to uncuff Carter as well. "You did a good thing, Donnelly," she told him softly, knowing how much it must have pained him to let John walk away.
"They were meant for each other," he shrugged sadly.
"Come on," said Carter, heading back to the van. "It's been a long day. You should go home and get some rest."
The agent nodded. He could definitely use some rest.
"Hey, Carter?" asked Donnelly nervously as he dropped her off at her house.
"Would you like to, um, go get coffee with me sometime?"
Carter quirked an eyebrow. "You mean like on a date? But I thought you liked men!"
"That doesn't mean I can't like women too," he said, blushing and tightly gripping the steering wheel.
Carter sighed. "Look, Donnelly, I'm sorry but you're really just not my type. I'll see you later. Go get some sleep." With that she got out of the van and went back inside, hoping that she'd be able to make sense out of all this in the morning.
Donnelly sighed. Oh well, it had been worth a shot. So with a heavy heart, he started the van and drove off alone into the night, forever condemned to look for his own sexy man—or woman—in a suit.
Don't worry, there shall be a humorous epilogue! I couldn't just leave Donnelly forever condemned, I love him too much!