I do not own Person of Interest or any characters you may recognize.

"The Things We Say"

"Thank you, both of you,"

Those were the last words John spoke to her, whispered with an air of gratefulness and finality. While he gave her arm one last caress and turned his back on her to escape to the roof - and certain death - sorrow and anger warred for priority in her heart. For the moment Joss let grief take precedence as she watched him disappear up the final few steps, dragging a large chunk of her heart with him.

Damn that foolish man! After everything they had been through recently, didn't he realize she was willing to do everything within her power to free him, to attempt to repay the debt she owed him….that she had finally stopped running from her feelings and was ready to admit she was desperately in love with him?

Joss had barely felt Fusco grab her arm to propel her back down the stairwell. Only thoughts of her baby boy kept her from dashing back through that iron door and forcing the stubborn mule to accept her help. She did not want to admit how irritatingly right John was at the moment, but she truly did have too much to lose. Taylor had already endured the loss of his father, she wouldn't put him through the death of his remaining parent too.

Each shaky step down reinforced her heartbreaking decision to leave the man she loved behind for the sake of her son. Deep down though, she could not smother a tiny spark of hope that John Reese, the man with nine lives, would be able to make it out of this nightmare unscathed. John and Finch had to have some sort of last-minute miracle up their sleeve. The alternative was unthinkable.

"Come on Carter" Fusco urged her, still gripping her arm as if afraid she would run back to John if he let go for even a second. "Come on Carter, let's get out of here…Carter -"

"Carter! Earth to Carter! You ready to go?!"

Detective Raymond Terney's rough voice broke through her reverie, jerking her back to the present: eight agonizing weeks since the night she thought she had lost John, working an active homicide case with Terney while Fusco was out running errands for the Dynamic Duo.

"Uh yeah, I'm just about through Terney," Joss answered, tightening her grip on several small plastic evidence bags as she turned around to face her temporary partner. "Just focused on getting all the evidence we can to catch this guy," she finished lamely, waving clear baggies in front of her with an over bright smile plastered on her face.

Inwardly she was cursing herself for being caught mooning over John Reese and his pathetic ass. More than five hours had passed since she had staggered out of the Coronet Hotel, resolved to expel him from her heart and mind permanently. She refused to let his arrogant smirks, whispered innuendos, and seductive blue eyes intoxicate her any longer.

Rather reluctantly she conceded to herself that her endeavor would likely require thousands of hours and thousands of gallons of Haagen Dazs pineapple coconut ice cream to truly rid herself of the ex-CIA enforcer….or at least that would be a fine way to start.

The raised eyebrow and disbelieving sneer Detective Terney tossed her way was as loud as any verbal 'whatever' could have been. "Well wrap it up sweetheart. We've finished processing the rest of the apartment and I want to make it home before Letterman finishes his top 10."

"Right behind you," Joss murmured to his retreating back. Any other day she would have taken to task anyone who dared call her sweetheart, particularly while she was on duty. As a female detective she worked twice as hard as her male counterparts, giving 110% every day to prove her naysayers wrong.

Joss turned back to the blood stained dresser with a dejected sigh. She was just too drained - emotionally and physically - to take up that battle at the moment; and in all honesty she couldn't find it in her heart to get mad at the man. Raymond Terney was a first-rate detective and a dependable friend - not something she could say for the majority of the cops she worked with. He had taken her under his wing when she first joined the Homicide Task Force, showing her the ropes, swapping war stories, and defending her against members of the older order. Once after an exceptionally grueling investigation where their suspect had surprised her with a knife, the older detective had stayed with her in the emergency room while she waited to be patched up. He had quietly told her that she was a remarkable investigator who worked circles around the other men in their unit. Joss served as a reminder to him that there were decent officers on the force, that not everyone could be bought.

Tonight however, Terney was not acting like himself. His usual good-humor had disappeared, replaced with what Joss might be tempted to call edgy desperation if she didn't know better. Her colleague had been in a bear of a mood since they arrived at the scene, particularly after a brief but tense phone call he received when they pulled up to the modest brownstone. "I'll take care of it," had been his terse reply before slapping the phone closed. Terney had then proceeded to stomp towards the building, barking out orders that had nervous crime scene techs and rookie uniformed officers scurrying to do his bidding.

Standing alone by a curious knot of onlookers, Joss had allowed herself a moment to wonder at the dramatic change in her coworker. Water cooler gossip - which she proudly refrained from, yet grudgingly received second-hand from Fusco - insinuated Terney's oldest daughter was in trouble again, using drugs and running with a rough crowd. Such a shame considering how hard it had been on her family before she decided to get clean several years ago. Joss couldn't help but empathize, knowing first hand the challenges single parenthood brought, especially raising a teenager in New York City with a cop's schedule and salary. She had cut him some slack, chalking up his current disposition to tensions with his adolescent daughter and the late winter snow falling a few hours before the forecasted time - perfect weather for aggravating his decades old knee injury.

Joss cut her reflections short and deposited her collection of baggies into a large bin on the floor next to her, then hunched over to study the cracked surface of the worn bureau - most likely their murder weapon. The medical examiner speculated cause of death could be blunt force trauma, undoubtedly from her head striking the furniture's sharp corner.

A short black hair trapped in a section of splintered wood snagged her attention. Their victim was a single young female with unruly copper curls. Her family lived out-of-state, and she reportedly had no boyfriend, so it was very possible that the darker hair came from her murderer. Joss processed the strand and took a swab of blood from that area before examining the haphazardly opened drawers. Whoever had rummaged through them was in a hurry, and the extravagant pieces of jewelry and designer clothing left behind suggested robbery was not the motive.

She photographed the dresser in its current state before continuing her search. Pictures of the victim with friends and family littered the top, along with a few dusty yet pricey looking perfume bottles and a stunning photograph of a deserted white sand beach overlooking calm azure waters. The picture was taped to a large mason jar with the label "vacation fund" pasted below it. Apparently this was one trust fund baby that was not running to mommy and daddy to pay her way for everything - the discovery was refreshing, and intensified Joss' determination to put her murderer in handcuffs. She paused for a moment to consider the idyllic photo, the scene calling to her, grabbing her attention away from the job at hand.

"A vacation…maybe that is what I need." Joss mulled the idea over. Perhaps a getaway to an uninhabited tropical island would increase her chances of falling out of love with John Reese. "Well" she conceded, "maybe an uninhabited tropical island fully stocked with Bikini Martinis and tanned, muscular cabana boys to keep me occupied."

She did have several months of vacation time on the books just sitting there collecting dust; and a change of scenery from dreary, frozen New York City would be refreshing. The more she day dreamed about it, the more the merit the idea gained. Joss found herself swearing to jump online and start her search for the perfect spot the minute she got home.

It would do her a world of good to go somewhere far far away from the city and the sources of stress it held - her insurmountable caseload , Finch and his undisclosed, but frighteningly accurate source, Fusco and his perpetual scowl, her soon to be ex boyfriend Cal Beecher, John Reese and his new side kick Zoe Morgan…"Wow, Joss," she scowled at her reflection in the bureau mirror, "just couldn't stop yourself from going there huh?" Wasn't witnessing the two lovers firsthand this afternoon enough?

Several hours earlier

Joss Carter wanted to hit someone. No, that wasn't true. She had a few very specific "someones" in mind; and, if she was in the mood to continue being honest, she wanted to do more than just hit these targets.

With her derailed polygraph test and rescinded job offer from the FBI just hours old, Joss was the epitome of pissed off. She was furious with everyone - herself, Cal Beecher, SAIC Moss, Agent Donnelly, Fusco - but mainly with her Man in the Suit and his quirky billionaire pal.

Did those two know about the IAB investigation into Beecher, but were "too busy" to clue her in? Had they decided that she didn't need to know? The very idea caused her blood pressure to spike into dangerous territory. She was a military veteran, a homicide detective, the single mom of a teenager for crying out loud! She was more than capable of handling this news and protecting herself accordingly.

The only other option, equally as maddening as the first, was that perhaps they did not know either because they had not cared enough to check up on the new man in her life. Joss would not allow herself to dwell on that notion for long though, it hurt too much to think about. John and Harold had to care on some level, she reasoned with herself.

They had to or Reese would not have mentioned it that morning at the City Planner's office. "You're looking nice Carter," he had said. "Maybe this Cal Beecher will be good for you too, as long as he treats you right. If he messes with you he'll be hearing from me. Joss had scolded John about respecting her boundaries all those weeks ago, but she was secretly elated at his protective posturing that day. In fact John had seemed so earnest in defending her that Joss found herself perilously close to telling him the truth - she was only dating Beecher to distract herself from her growing feelings for him.

Looking back now she began to doubt that John meant a word of what he said. More than likely he had been trying to charm her into getting the security camera footage he needed, and distract her from his creative use of Marshal Jennings' purloined badge.

Joss stormed out of the sector soon after Agent Moss left, and drove across town to the upscale hotel where John and Harold were wrapping up their latest number. She would deal with Cal later, but right now she intended to find the pair and get some answers. Joss also planned to finally snag a few minutes alone with John. Neither had spoken to the other since that dreadful night on the top floor, where he had tersely thanked her before turning away, resigned to one last self-sacrificing act.

Afterwards she was busy coordinating responsibilities with the other first responders to clean up the mess Snow and Stanton had left, when he and Finch limped out of the empty building. Joss had been relieved beyond measure when she saw them and wanted to wrap John in her arms, letting go only after she was certain he was alright. Instead they exchanged weary nods and she flashed him a wide, teary smile before going back to work, distracting the other officers on scene to allow the two men time to melt into the crowd of spectators.

Joss had every intention of calling him when she finally made it home; but by the time she did return to her apartment the next day she hesitated in reaching out. The chain of events his arrest touched off had taken a toll on her. She felt a profound need for isolation, to give her time to decompress and regain some sense of balance and control in her life and in her relationship with John. His silence led her to believe that he needed downtime too; but the longer this separation dragged on, the wider the awkward distance between them grew. There was more going on than a simple hiatus, and today was the day she found out the truth.

John's actions that night had torn at her heart, in part because of her feelings for him; but more so because he was the one in need of rescuing for a change, yet she was not permitted to help him. Joss was convinced that she could have freed him if given the chance; but John had shut her down immediately, not even allowing her to attempt it.

John Reese, Mr. Badass, hunted/haunted Man in the Suit had saved her life, saved her son's life, and kept his promise to watch her back. Joss knew she could never repay her debt to him; but the morning he brought Taylor back to her unharmed just as he had promised, she swore to herself she would always be there for him. That vow meant answering his calls all hours of the day and night, crafting believable cover stories at the drop of a hat, learning to see the gray areas in life, giving more of herself than was comfortable with at times, and taking risks with her career, even her life. His rejection of her offer to find a way out of that death sentence had cut her deeply and caused their burgeoning friendship to feel lopsided - most definitely not in her favor.

Joss knew for a fact that before his abduction she had been achingly close breaking through John's defenses and gaining his complete trust. All of that progress had been destroyed when Donnelly arrested them that night on the bridge. Her heart broke again remembering the split second of anguish in John's eyes before the CIA robot mask slid into place. He truly believed the FBI agent's heartless words, and she suspected that played a part in the separation between them. Joss needed to talk to him, get him to relent and open up to her again just a little. If she could manage that, then they had a decent chance at regaining their earlier equilibrium and perhaps moving on to something more.

That needed to happen soon, because God only knew how much more of her strained exile from their ragtag band of heroes she could take. She missed the thrill of being able to stop the bad guys before they ruined innocent lives. She missed being needed and appreciated for who she truly was and what she had to offer.

Above all Joss dearly missed her friend - the man who ambled down the aisles of the grocery store with her late at night after work, sneaking things into the cart and claiming they were for Taylor, the man who had sneered at her homemade chocolate lava cake and challenged her to a bake-off with Taylor, Finch, Fusco, and Bear as the unwitting judges, the man who debated military strategies and weapon preferences with her, engaged her in a water balloon war one blistering summer day; and spent many snowy evenings curled up on her couch eating popcorn and watching marathons of black and white classics like 'I Love Lucy' and 'The Thin Man'.

For Joss, the worst part of her banishment was how completely John had cut off all communication. When they got into a jam with a number he contacted Fusco, or Finch would reach out to her. John didn't call her to check on Taylor and confirm his attendance at the next game. He didn't telephone to tease her about uncooperative suspects, while slyly trying to make sure she was not hurt.

His silence chafed her most on days when everything seemed to go wrong, one person after another using her as their own personal punching bag. After work on those lonely nights, Joss would lay in her bed staring at the nondescript burner phone, remembering how John lingered on the line with her on rough days, his throaty whispers calming, caressing her frayed nerves until she drifted off into a sound sleep. Several times over the last couple of months she dialed his number, wanting only to hear his husky voice reassure her that they were alright. Each time she hesitated, finger hovering over the last digit before she deleted the string of numbers, powered down the phone and cried herself to sleep.

"Today has been one of those days," she thought as she slipped into a parking spot, "I need you John." Joss stepped out and slammed her car door with an energized determination to bite the bullet, be the bigger person, and put an end to this ridiculous behavior. Today would be the day she renewed her friendship with John Reese.

All those plans were shot to hell when she entered the reception area of the Coronet Hotel.

Harold spotted her first and she waved, about to head over to speak with him when she spied John exiting the bar, heading to a bank of elevators…his arm firmly anchoring an alluring Zoe Morgan to his side. The pleasure she felt at seeing him for the first time in weeks instantly diminished as snatches of their whispered conversation drifted to her above the roar filling her ears: "Another round of drinks", "A little fun to help you loosen up", "My penthouse suite is still available".

For the first time in her life, Jocelyn Carter wanted to surrender to the flight instinct rather than stand and fight. Her brain began shooting rapid fire messages to her legs, demanding they turn her body around and use the sudden flood of adrenaline to sprint to the nearest exit. Those rebellious limbs ignored that directive and slowly turned her to track the couple's progress through the plush lobby instead.

Joss found she couldn't even close her eyes to block out their smiling faces. Rather she was trapped in this nightmarish tableau, partially hidden from their view behind a hideous flower arrangement. She was unable to move, incongruously transfixed with the sight before her, letting out a startled gasp as John lowered his head to passionately kiss his companion.

Her entire body felt as if it were on the verge of collapse, but all she could manage was to reach out one hand and weakly grasp the edge of an ornate side table. The sight of her suspicions being blatantly confirmed took all the wind out of her sails.

Joss had long suspected there was more to John's connection with Zoe than he let on - not that John ever talked about that relationship with her anyway. The investigator in her recognized that something had happened between the two of them after John saved her life during the Vertanen case, but Joss had been comfortable not knowing all the details. She had assumed Zoe continued to help out of gratitude, but perhaps there was another explanation. After all most numbers were never heard from again once they were dealt with. It was curious then how she randomly popped up during investigations to manipulate her connections and provide vital information needed to save or arrest the current person of interest…and who could forget that the blonde haired maven was John's first choice to play Mrs. John Campbell on their suburban stake out.

"How could I have been so stupid?" she asked herself, blinking back warm tears. Her instincts were rarely wrong, this just couldn't be right….could it? Before the arrest/interrogation/re-arrest/bomb vest debacle, those instincts were leading her to believe her gorgeous guardian angel was growing to care for her as more than just a friend. His flirtatious banter, tender touches, and overprotective concern had cast quite a spell over her, opening a space for him in her heart that had been sealed shut since her husband's death. Watching the pair canoodle while waiting for their ride to the top floor, she came to the conclusion that she had only been fooling herself.

In spite of the anger and heartache churning within her, Joss forced herself to give credit where it was due. He deserved all the acting awards Hollywood could dole out for his ability to slip past her defenses and persuade her into lowering her guard. John Reese was a wickedly skilled actor, flawlessly playing whatever role the situation called for - bodyguard for hire, nerdy boyfriend, innocent man in the wrong place at the wrong time, friend looking for something more...Joss only wished she could have figured that out before he managed to dupe her. The bastard had likely not set out to break her heart, but damn if he hadn't done a fine job of it!

All of the pieces started to fit together in that moment, and Joss realized why John had broken off all contact with her after that exhausting winter night - she had gotten to close for his comfort when she laid her heart bare and begged him to let her help. John must have discerned the extent of her feelings for him, and chose to run like a coward instead of facing her as a true gentleman would. However he defined their relationship - annoying little sister, professional acquaintance, law enforcement asset - it was glaringly obvious did not think of her in the same way . Whether he was still in love with Jessica, interested in Zoe Morgan, or on the prowl for a beneficial friendship, her feelings were not reciprocated.

Her insubordinate legs relented at last and allowed her to retreat a few steps; but not before Zoe's calculating gaze caught her watery one. The aloof fixer shot her a gloating smirk before drawing Reese into another ardent lip lock.

That act proved to be the last straw, and Joss knew she needed to leave before she broke down in the middle of the hotel's atrium . "Not here," she would not allow Zoe or John the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Joss managed to limp out the main entrance, avoiding Harold's concerned expression, and make it back to her car before the tears held at bay began falling in earnest. Seconds later her private cell phone vibrated and she couldn't hold back a wild burst of hope that rippled through her. Perhaps John had noticed her departure and left his girlfriend to chase after her? That expectation was dashed by Finch's clipped, yet strangely compassionate voice when she answered.

"Detective?" he questioned in a worried tone she hadn't heard from him since the accident with Kara Stanton.

"Hey Harold," she was quite proud of herself for sounding so calm and detached while tears and clumps of mascara were sliding down her cheeks. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay. I just remembered that I need to pick up Taylor from practice." Joss was fairly certain the bespectacled genius could see through her flimsy excuse; but putting distance between herself and the Coronet was her primary focus at the moment. She didn't even pause to consider the conclusions Finch would jump to at seeing her reaction to John kissing another woman.

"Joss," he tried again, the awkward distress oddly touching. "Perhaps we could meet later at the…Shake Shack for dinner? My treat?" Joss almost laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion. Harold must be out of his mind with worry if he was willing to dine at the bustling burger joint rather than one of his usual haughty French restaurants. "Taylor is welcome to join us as well."

Heartache and anger notwithstanding, Jocelyn found herself smiling at his discomfited attempt to offer her a shoulder to cry on. Harold had made an effort to change their relationship over the past several months, and Joss found that she was growing fond of the man…..but right now she desperately needed to be alone.

"Thank you Finch," Joss sincerely hoped her unspoken gratitude came across in her refusal. Harold could just as easily be calling to gloat, or even 'fire' her for breaking his unspoken code of ethics. "It's been a long day though. Taylor has a science project to work on and then turn in early."

"Another time then," he quietly assured her. " If you need anything Detective -"

"I'll call, I promise." Though they both knew that was as likely to happen as her accepting his dinner invitation. "Good night Harold."

"Good night Joss."

With that she hung up, caught sight of her face in the rearview mirror and flinched at the woman staring back at her. Pathetic. "How did it get this far?" she wondered while angrily grabbing a handful of tissues from the glove box to wipe away the remnants of her makeup.

John had not, by any stretch of the imagination, declared his love or undying devotion to her, in fact he had spent the last few weeks ignoring her completely. And while they often met each other in diners all across town, they had never shared anything remotely resembling a date. So why the hell was she sitting in her car, heartbroken, and feeling betrayed.

Joss considered herself an intelligent woman, sensible, grounded, not someone who could be easily swept away by something as stupid as a schoolgirl crush on the resident bad boy. It made absolutely no sense why she, a by the book homicide investigator with no sympathy for law breakers, was falling apart over a highly trained government assassin who had a laundry list of felony charges trailing after him.

Perhaps she should teach him a lesson by making a few calls, letting his location slip - No! That line of thought ended before it really even began. No, she would not betray him again, no matter how wounded she was. Joss felt prickles of remorse sting her conscience for even entertaining such an idea. She stood behind what she said to Donnelly during that ill-fated drive to his safe house: John Reese was a good man. Her friend was not the heartless monster others typecast him as; and she would protect him however she could until the bitter end - period.

Joss leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes, hoping to regroup and clear her mind. Images of Zoe and John making love on cool satin sheets instantly assailed her instead. With a pained growl, she took several deep breaths and shook the mental pictures away. Enough was enough! This whole mess was taking a turn to the absurd, and it could not continue, would not continue! Pining over him was a dead-end in more ways than one.

"Pining?" she cringed, rubbing a hand across her forehead in the hopes of easing the sudden throbbing there before it intensified. What was happening to her? She was not the type of woman to sit around moping over an unavailable man. Joss was realistic, rational, logical. She rarely let her emotions dictate her decisions, even in her personal life.

How many times during her years in law enforcement had she sat with a shaken woman, urging her to get rid of the toxic man in her life while wiping away her tears? That shoe felt peculiar, uncomfortable even, now that it was on the other foot. Reese had never - would never - physically hurt her, but their relationship was not exactly healthy or safe.

Her marriage to Greg had been the very definition of safe - loving, trusting, comfortable, and built on a foundation of a decades old friendship. Joss hesitated in even comparing the two relationships; but this thing with John, the dizzying whirlwind of feelings that invaded her dreams and had her peering into the shadows hoping for a glimpse of him, was more intense than anything she had experienced with her husband.

Joss had loved Gregory Carter dearly, and cherished the years they were given. He would always hold a special place in her heart, but it seemed that her one time foe had managed to sneak through her initial resistance and make a place for himself in her heart without her knowledge or permission. He was the only man who could take her from one emotional extreme to the other, often in a matter of seconds. Only her John could manage to irritate her to distraction and then disarm her with an apologetic smile. One sexy grin from him had her clenching her fists to keep from grabbing handfuls of his white dress shirt to pull him close and kiss him senseless.

Her love for John Reese felt right and natural, but she knew it made absolutely no sense. They were complete opposites in almost every outward measure - he was a wanted man, she was a dedicated cop, he broke the rules every chance he got, she lived her life following said rules, she was a mom and had a full life ahead of her with her family and friends, he was a walking dead man with a price on his head and had so few friends he could count them on one hand. But in her heart of hearts, she knew they were both the same where it truly mattered: both worked tirelessly to save innocent lives and make sure justice was served, they both carried war wounds and past mistakes with them, each tried to atone for those mistakes - albeit in vastly different manners, and both were extremely loyal, faithful to both their mission and their friends.

When all was said and done, John Reese was a defender of the weak and forgotten, courageous, generous to a fault, loving, and a man she was proud to call her friend. Their work was important, more important than any desire she had for a relationship with him. Joss knew she needed to give up on that fantasy. She could ….would get through this in time, or so she told herself, but there was little comfort in that reassurance at the moment.

Her brain approved of the decision, but her heart was not as resolved to give up just yet, regardless of how ill fated a liaison between them would likely be. The heart wants what the heart wants, wasn't that the old saying? In the end sadly, her heart didn't matter. The fall out from a failed relationship would likely tear the team apart and endanger the lives of countless people. Not to mention the object of her desires was actively pursuing another woman at this very moment.

That little fact worked to scuttle the fog from her mind and bolster her decision to let him go. John Reese was clearly not interested, and if he could forget about her so easily then she could as well. From now on they would be acquaintances, polite co-workers, but nothing more. She would continue to help the team with the numbers as they came in; but Joss would not overextend herself, get wrapped up in their lives or allow herself to change further. Joss had accepted that she was a different woman now than she was a year and a half ago when she started this chase that turned into a second job. The events of the last six months led her to wonder if the needle on her moral compass had tilted a little too far, still leading her in the same general direction, but a few degrees off her regular path. The million dollar question remained - was this a change for the better?

That would take some time to answer, but she was in no hurry to examine the matter further. For now she would focus on ridding herself of feelings for John Reese, who, like any bad habit, could be flushed from her system. It would just take a lot of time, distance, and hard work on her part.

Suddenly the thought of the long, quiet night ahead of her at home terrified her. Joss had just finished a grueling week of eighteen hour shifts filled with wailing victims, perps who didn't understand the concept of 'quit while you're ahead', wild goose chases around town gathering evidence, witness interviews, court appearances, and mountains of paperwork …not to mention foiling an assassination attempt on a hotel maid in her own precinct, being turned down for a job with the FBI, and finding out her now ex-boyfriend was under investigation by internal affairs. A peaceful evening at home with her son should not reduce her to tears, but here she was in a near panic.

She needed to keep busy, just something to divert her attention for now while she subconsciously processed this bombardment of emotions. With her mind made up, Joss pulled out her phone again and finished cleaning her face while she waited for her mom to answer.

"You okay baby girl?" Sofia Daniels asked after she agreed to pick up Taylor from the library near his school.

Jocelyn winced at her mother's soft inquisitive tone, the one she used when she knew something was wrong with her daughter. Great. The last thing she needed was for her mother to start prying into her life - or lack there of. Joss may have followed in her father's footsteps career wise, but she had her mother to thank for her interrogation skills. That woman never met a pair of lips she couldn't loosen. Joss couldn't help but briefly imagine the older woman in the box with Harold or John. Her mom would have her work cut out for her, but those two wouldn't stand a chance against the master!

"I'm fine mom, I promise…just swamped at work right now," the silence the other end of the line was not comforting "It's job security right?" the attempt at humor was lost on her mother.

Joss wanted nothing more at that moment than to be able to run to her mama and bury herself in her warm embrace like she had when she was a little girl; but this was something she had to deal with on her own for more than one reason. Being an independent adult with a secret life had its disadvantages some days.

She spent a few more minutes ironing out the details before she hung up and slipped into the early evening traffic to head back to the office.

The return trip took a little longer than expected due to heavier than normal congestion; but she finally made her way back to her desk and fired up her computer, intent on ignoring the sniggle of guilt she felt at hoping for a case to drop into her lap. Getting the work she needed to keep busy meant someone else was going to have a crappy day.

Two and a half hours later Joss pushed back from her desk and massaged the tender muscles in her neck. The tension headache from earlier was rearing its ugly head and she was starting to feel light-headed - likely from skipping her last four meals. Despite her exhaustion, Joss could not bring herself to leave. She just wasn't ready to face an empty apartment and her raw feelings yet. Besides, her return to work had been very productive so far. She had managed to write a few minor arrest warrants, email three reports to the DA's office, arrange a handful of witness interviews for later in the week, check in with Taylor, catch up on her paperwork as well as Fusco's, and even re-organize her desk and filing cabinet - all while sneaking glances at the drawer where she had locked up the burner phone that was practically begging for her attention. Her rational side knew better than to expect a call from John; but the wounded woman in Joss still held on to an inkling of hope.

'You're being ridiculous,' she scolded herself. She had made up her mind to move on and she would. Her efforts would be in vain if she didn't stand by her commitment.

Joss set out in search of a decent cup of coffee to take the edge off, deciding to tackle the pile of junk on her partner's desk - Mount Fusco as she had christened it - when she returned. Before she reached the break room door Joss saw Terney and his partner hustle out of the captain's office, making a beeline for their go bags.

"Carter, what are you doing back so soon?" Terney paused in holstering his back up weapon to eye her curiously. "Miss me already?"

"Yeah like your ex-wife misses you Terney."

"You sure know how to kick a man while he's down don't ya?"

The two traded lighthearted barbs for a few more minutes before she managed to get herself invited to their crime scene. The suspicious death of a coed from Bank Street College of Education would be just the thing to keep her busy for several more hours.

Joss couldn't bite back the grim smile that tilted her lips as she grabbed her own gear and resolutely left the precinct with her last connection to John Reese locked securely in her bottom drawer.

Present time

Taking a cleansing breath to regain her focus, Joss stepped back slightly to continue examining the dresser. Immediately she zeroed in on a bloody fingerprint on the only closed drawer. 'Odd' she mused, snapping a picture before bending to process the print. The blood had not completely dried so she would need to use some small particle reagent when lifting the mark.

Joss rooted around in her bag and found the small bottle wedged behind her crime scene "how to" guide she received back in the academy. She grabbed both intending to collect this evidence herself and not drag a tech back in to do it for her. For the most part Joss usually left this aspect of the job to the CSU team while she questioned witnesses and followed up on leads; however she had gone through the mandatory training and knew it would be faster to do it herself…well it would have been faster if she had remembered to refill her bottle with the fingerprinting agent when she used the last of it a few months ago. A refill honestly had been on her to-do list, but like so many other things, it got pushed to the back burner in the aftermath of John's arrest.

"Terney's going to love this," she muttered as pushed to her feet to find her interim partner. The older detective barked out orders earlier for the CSU guys to head back to the lab while the detectives and uniformed officers finished securing the scene. She needed to catch them before they left, because, while she had nothing but respect for Detective Raymond Terney, she doubted he carried bottles of SPR spray with him.

Joss had only taken a few steps when she heard a clatter in the adjoining room and froze. 'What is going on with that man?' she wondered. It was not like her friend to stomp around and sulk, no matter what was happening in his personal life.

Regardless of his foul mood and impatience to leave, there was still work to be done. Joss would not be rushed or allow him to bully her into leaving the rest of the scene for the next day. If need be, she would handle transporting all the evidence to the property room and dig into the investigation herself back at the precinct so he could make it home at a decent time.

"Hey Terney," she called out. "I'm still gonna be another few minutes, so why don't you come in here and take a look at this." No sarcastic quip or rumbling growl answered her, only another solid thump.

Joss' instincts flared to life and her right hand flew to her service weapon, silently unclipping it from the holster. She backed away from the door and into the shadows near the bed as the electricity flickered and finally blinked out. Joss stood frozen in her hiding place, fighting the urge to panic while her eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. A quick glance out the window on the opposite wall confirmed what she suspected: the power was only out in this unit and had likely been cut on purpose, not a blackout due to the winter storm. 'Terney where did you go?' she thought. Joss contemplated calling him for back up, but didn't want to risk the light from her phone giving away her position to the intruder.

Seconds later she sensed the presence of someone else in the bedroom with her and Joss knew beyond a doubt it was not a fellow brother in blue. At this point her vision had acclimated enough that muted light from the moon and dim street lamps allowed her to see a hulking form advancing steadily towards her. Each step he took in her direction revealed a clearer picture of what she was up against. Her brain cataloged the critical factors while trying to compute a plan of action: male, height at least 6'3", 200-230 pounds, outfitted from head to toe in top of the line body armor and tactical gear, complete with high-end night vision goggles and a lethal silencer equipped Glock.

This was no bumbling criminal returning to the scene to clean up after himself. This felt like a well-funded assassination attempt. But on who….by who? Her mind began spinning with a multitude of theories, most of which left her stomach sinking in the direction of her knees. Who would be foolish enough to walk into an active crime scene with dozens of officers covering the perimeter….speaking of those officers where were they now? She would have heard the confrontation if he had run into a patrolman, and there were no unguarded areas where he could have slipped by unseen.

A shiver tore through her with the realization that her fellow officers had abandoned her, just as they had the night she took several marked units with her to collect Don Basile. Only this time the Man in the Suit would not appear in the nick of time to rescue her. She was utterly isolated, with that hated admonition ringing in her head: "You're all alone."

How many times had she heard that throughout her life - from the drunken frat pledge who tried to rape her back in college, the smug soldiers who allowed Yusef to be murdered despite her promise to protect him, from a female detective she had once considered a close friend, and even from Don Moretti when she had tried to protect him from his own son. Joss had fought back each time, determined not to show how frightened she was at the prospect of being alone, with no back up, no partner to help shoulder the load.

Her heart was quick to leap to John's defense, calling up his raspy promise spoken to her in the shadows of that alley not long ago: "you're not alone." Just as swiftly, her mind shut down the image and sent more adrenaline coursing through her body to prepare for the fight stalking towards her. There was no time left to hem and haw about promises kept or broken by the vigilante. The hunter had found his prey.

Joss continued to skirt the wall, planning to stick to the edge of the room and make a mad dash for the door when she was in the clear. Once outside she could call Fusco for back up, then lay in wait to hopefully turn the tables on her assailant.

A few feet more and she ran into the victim's night stand, knocking over a lamp in the process. The hit man advanced on her with a mirthless laugh, and she brought up her Sig Sauer, aiming for his goggles without bothering to offer a warning shout of "NYPD, drop your weapon!" The darkened room made aiming difficult, and her shot only grazed the very tip of the frames. The close call did not seem to make any impact on her attacker as he fired his own weapon. Joss dodged to her left at the last second, and felt the bullet tear into her shoulder as she tumbled on to the unmade bed.

Somehow she managed to keep a tight grip around her gun, however the steady stream of warm blood coursing down her arm and into her palm was challenging that - not to mention the firearm now felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds. Her injured arm was useless in lifting her weapon to aim again, but before she could change shooting hands the man pounced on her, delivering well placed punches to her jaw and torso.

The blows momentarily stunned Joss, allowing her attacker to press her further into the mattress and commandeer her firearm. While the room was still whirling around her the invader grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking back hard enough to earn him a pained hiss from between her clenched teeth. He jammed the cold steel of the silencer into the tender flesh under her chin and leaned in close.

"You should have heeded our first warning Detective." He snarled in an accent she couldn't quite place, perhaps Eastern European? The attacker leaned in even closer, a rancid puff of his breath causing her stomach to roil in disgust and anguish. "But no, you decided to keep sticking your nose in where it didn't belong." He emphasized his last words with a painful twist of the gun, wedging the barrel against her windpipe. Hot and cold prickles of agony were needling their way across her flesh, threatening to overwhelm her. Already she sensed darkness creeping into the edges of her vision.

Fight! her spirit screamed to her weakening body. There has to be a way out of this! Leaving Taylor an orphan, without first fighting tooth and nail to survive was incomprehensible. Joss knew her mom would take care of him, and she had no doubt Fusco, Finch, even John, would step in as guardians also. Her baby boy would be loved, protected, and want for nothing; but it wouldn't be the same as being there herself. Joss was all he had left and she wanted to live, to fuss over him as he grew into a responsible young man, not spy on him through holes in Heaven's floor boards.

The feel of a meaty hand pulling apart the buttons on her blouse brought her out of her stupor, barely in time to catch his next words over the increasing clamor in her head. "HR wants me to make sure you receive their message loud and clear this time….fortunately for us they left it up to me as to how to deliver it." The hand tangled in her hair tightened painfully while he used his teeth to pull the glove off of his free hand.

'Oh hell no!' Jocelyn Carter, combat soldier roared to life, vowing to fight to the death before allowing this asshole to rape and murder her. It truly would have to happen over her dead body!

HR's executioner sneered down at her and moved to unbutton her pants when she sprang into action - head butting the pervert and sharply raising her knee to strike him dead center in his most sensitive area. Her efforts winded her but netted her precious seconds to slide out from under him. She had managed to stumble several steps towards the door before he grasped her ankle and jerked her back onto the floor. The impact with the hardwood surface jarred ribs she suspected were bruised, if not already broken, and robbed her of any remaining breath.

Joss wasn't done fighting though and used her waning energy to flip herself onto her back while bringing the opposite foot up to deliver a punishing kick to his head. The jolt dazed him, but was not enough to loosen his hold on her ankle. She drew back to strike again when he captured that foot as well.

"You stupid bitch!" He seethed with blood streaming from his now broken nose. He shrugged aside the goggles she managed to dislodge in the struggle as he increased the pressure on her ankles, dragging her underneath him. "I tried to make this pleasant for you."

"Fuck you!" Joss spat in his face as he moved to sit on her legs and block her left hand from clawing at his face mask. The man was considerably larger than her, but she continued to buck and kick - anything to throw him off of her - ignoring her body's acute protests.

"Too late for that sweetheart," he grunted as his large left hand wrapped around her throat, cutting off her vital air supply. Joss' alarm increased tenfold as she gasped for oxygen no longer available to her. The darkness returned to the periphery of her vision, quickly swallowing everything in sight except for his contorted face - startling grey eyes and the jagged white line of a scar across his right cheek bone now clearly visible.

'God help me please!' Joss prayed, confident He was listening. It had been quite a while since her work schedule had allowed her to attend Sunday services with any regularity, but in her heart she knew her faith and love for Him were ultimately what mattered.

She managed a tight smile when she felt the warrior in her rally for one last attempt at freedom. She twisted her head as far as possible and sank her teeth into the nearest piece of flesh she could find, supremely satisfied when she realized she had drawn blood.

The unknown assailant screamed in pain and fell back releasing her throat, allowing her to greedily suck in gulps of air. The sharp stitch in her side knifed through her with each gasp, blossoming into constricting spasms that discouraged further attempts to breath. Joss realized she needed to move, but her mind could not talk her aching body into cooperating.

Weakly she flailed her legs in an effort to crawl away; but had not moved an inch before her enemy lashed out and struck her temple with the butt of his Glock. Excruciating pain immobilized her as fireworks ballooned across her line of sight. Her heavy lids closed of their own accord, and she felt herself slipping away towards a dazzling radiance just beyond her reach that beckoned her, offering an end to her current anguish.

Joss recognized her end was near and accepted the fact that there was nothing more she could do. At any second, HR's assassin would dispatch a bullet into her head finishing the job they started more than a year ago. She hovered on the edge of consciousness, not afraid of her impending death, but waiting confidently instead until it was her time to move on. The blinding flash of light that scarcely penetrated the obscure haze surrounding her was not from the muzzle of the gun as she expected. In the stillness of the room his labored breathing seemed overly loud, accompanied by a faint clicking noise she couldn't quite place.

Vaguely she discerned the sound of footsteps walking away from her, towards the kitchen area of the apartment, where moments later a door could be heard slamming shut. Joss was bewildered, but felt a flash of relief as she realized the man had left. Perhaps she could make it out of this alive after all! She just needed a few minutes to rest, then she would locate her cell phone and call for help.

Joss' relief was short-lived as the faint odor of smoke began to tickle her nostrils. The bastard must have thought she was dead and had set the apartment on fire to cover his tracks and make sure the job was completed. 'Didn't have the guts to pull the trigger after all' she jeered, while thankful for the gunman's cowardice or - most likely - laziness.

Despite the urgency of the situation, Joss could not summon the energy to pick her body up and escape. She simply could not move, and felt no pressure to do so either. She was perfectly comfortable drifting lazily away from her battered body, closer to the peace she sensed was waiting for her on the other side.

Seconds later the faint crackle and hiss from the flames in the kitchen roared to life as they latched on to the accelerant and licked their way through the bedroom door. Acrid clouds of smoke drifted into the room and overpowered the remaining clean air, searing her throat and lungs. Still no effort was made to move as snapshots of her life began to filter through her consciousness in slide show fashion: Her fifth birthday when she finally got the puppy she had begged her parents for, her senior prom where she shared the first of many dances with her high school sweetheart - Taylor's father, various outposts she served at during her tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan, the day Taylor was born, and the night she received word her husband had died in combat.

The rough years in between flew by as if on fast forward, before settling again on more recent times: crisp fall nights spent bunched up on a crowded bleacher next to John proudly cheering for Taylor, an awkward, but comforting hug they shared at her husband's graveside on the anniversary of his death, the healing pot of homemade chicken soup he brought to her when she caught the flu, the gentle pressure of his hand around hers after she thanked him for rescuing her son from Elias. More images of the man who unknowingly held her heart inundated her as she pictured a life with him that would sadly never be.

The blaze steadily slithered closer and falling debris began pelting the floor around her as one last memory played out: her first face to face meeting with the elusive vigilante, she lay prostrate and injured in that alleyway, again waiting for certain death only to be saved by him.

A wry grimace twisted her lips when one final reflection flickered through her fading awareness. Thanks to a weird twist of fate, John Reese had managed to simultaneously break the promise he made to her in that night and substantiate his bitter words to Jessica from all those years ago…. In the end you are all alone and no one is coming to save you.

His cynical claim didn't bother her now as she surrendered without hesitation to the all-encompassing light, swallowed up in a warm embrace of love by her God who was waiting for her on the other side.

Joss did not spare the fiery scene behind her a second glance. Had she paused to look back she would have noticed her physical body being hastily scooped up in a pair of muscular arms and carried through the flames to safety.

A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read my story, please let me know what you think! This is my first attempt at fan fiction and I'm still working on getting the characters just right. I apologize for any mistakes or continuity issues, I haven't gotten the chance to go back and watch "Booked Solid" so I was working from memory in regards to the timeline of events. I know this was a long - but hopefully not boring - chapter. I don't think my future ones will be quite so long, but we'll see :-). I have a pretty good outline for the next few chapters, but suggestions are always welcome!