DISCLAIMER: I do not own Blindspot or the show's (amazing!) characters. I just enjoy playing with them because, you know, they're amazing.

This story is set sometime in season two, but I'm essentially ignoring most of the story line from the season. Hope you enjoy…

Two months

It had been two months.

Two months since Jane had returned to the team.

Two months since they'd learned what she'd done.

Two months since they'd learned what she went through when they turned her away.

Two months since Weller's world had been turned upside down. Again.

5 ½ months

It started five and a half months ago, but it was the day she was electrocuted for the 4th time that Jane stopped hoping someone else would help her. And it was the day they drowned her for the 6th time that she'd stopped being Jane – forgetting that woman's hope and kindness; those were of no use here. The woman she was next knew no one else was going to help her, so she bided her time, and on her 91st day with the CIA that woman helped her damn self to an exit.

And that was the woman who returned, against her will, to the FBI.

It's Complicated

It wasn't a truce, but more of a cease fire between the Jane and the team initially. But over time, things began to change. The first shift happened when the team found themselves protecting Jane. It was clear she wasn't going to do it herself; she'd agree to anything Nas proposed, no matter how dangerous. So the team found themselves looking for safer options or saying no altogether to plans that were just too risky, even for her.

Bit by bit they started trusting her again in the field, and the constant negative chatter about her died down. Slowly, they started to take care of her in other ways too- simple ways at first, like offering a friendly smile or reminding her to eat and sleep. Then they started inviting her to join them for meals when they were around, or offering her a ride home- at least they'd know she went home instead of working all night.

Taking care of Jane became a game within the team, a ritual almost, and they all played. Because not only was Jane important to them and to the mission, she was also important to Weller. They saw what he was going through each day, and noticed the glances and how he started watching her again; and they watched Weller twitch and flex and chew his own teeth whenever something involved Jane, and they knew that by taking care of her, they were also taking care of Weller.

Weller had changed after Jane left them. No one blamed him after all he'd been through, but they all worried when he didn't seem to move past it, didn't seem to get better even after all those months. It seemed to the team that between his father and Jane, something had been taken him. His reaction wasn't just grief, or anger, it was more. It was like he had less to give, like there was somehow less of him. And the shadows that had always lurked in his eyes seemed more present somehow.

Over time, taking care of Jane stopped feeling like an obligation to the team and more like the right thing to do. It was complicated, sure, but the more they saw from Jane and the more they watched Weller, they knew it was the right thing to do. Really, the only thing to do.

Jane

Jane was sad to have lost the rest of the team, but losing Weller was what broke her. It broke her in a way the CIA was never able to, and it broke her in a way that she knew would never be fixed. She knew he wanted nothing to do with her – hell, she heard him say as much – and yet she gravitated to him.

And despite the pain that loss and their daily interactions caused her, she kept finding herself drawn back. As she grew more confused about who she was and what she was supposed to be, she found herself increasingly turning to Weller to help her bring order to the chaos that surrounded her.

Slowly, Jane and the team had found a sort of equilibrium- a way to work together effectively without really being a team. She and Weller however… the hurt and pain between them still had both on guard from the other. And yet, she felt moments when one of their walls would slip, and from time to time she caught glimpses of the old Kurt. He was the most important person in her life, but she still wasn't sure if he wanted any part of her life or if having her near was just a necessary evil, a professional necessity. But more and more, they seemed to have moments where it felt, at least to Jane, like more.

Fieldwork

It was a Thursday, when a case went wrong. The team and Jane were in the field when they realized they were pinned down and out gunned. The other side was looking for Jane – someone was always looking for Jane, thought Weller – and the team was spread out. Zapata was on a roof, Weller was on the first floor of the same building, Reade was on the third floor of the building across the street. And Jane, Jane was clearing the alley next to them when things went wrong. She always volunteered for the shit jobs, and this time Weller had a feeling it had been a very bad decision to let her work on her own. He knew in his gut they were looking for her.

When the first shots were fired, they noticed they were targeted – three shots, but these were scope shots, not automatic weapon fire. Weller yelled into coms for the team to report. Reade was first, "here, eyes on the street, looks like two or three more providing support out there", then Zapata "here – visual on shooter's location, but no shooter. I got three in the building, first and second floors". Weller waited for Jane to report. It was a minute that felt like an eternity. He stopped breathing and felt his eyes press closed as he leaned against the wall, hoping to stay up despite the weakness in his legs. She didn't respond and he felt the blood rushing to his extremities, and the panic flow through him. "Jane, report!" he yelled. Then, in addition to the background noise they'd been hearing, they heard panting and a few thuds on coms, a shot fired and some more thuds. They heard her panting and more thuds, then two more shots. "Jane!" yelled Weller. Finally, Jane replied, "west side of the building- clear, three down" she said, still breathing heavily.

Weller inhaled for the first time since the initial shots were fired, and felt his blood begin to thaw.

The team continued to fight until it seemed they were all out of moves. Weller was trying to formulate a plan when he heard Jane over coms, "Weller, I can draw them out, Reade and Zapata will have clean shots" she said.

"We don't need you to do that Jane, just hold on" replied Weller, the tension clear in his voice. As he finished, two shots were fired and they heard Reade gasp. Weller yelled "Reade!", and the man responded "they've got me pinned down, but I'll have a clean window shot."

Jane's voice was clear over coms; she was ignoring Weller's order. She said calmly, "Weller, coming to you. I need cover in 5… 4… 3... 2… 1…" He was furious that she was ignoring his direct order, but was glad she gave him warning because as she counted down, Weller felt the world around him shift into slow motion. Although his breath grew faster, he felt every movement, felt the synapses firing in his brain, and a flood of adrenaline releasing into his blood. He felt like his skin was just one extended nerve ending, absorbing every sensation around him; he could feel the air. And his brain was heightened somehow, focused on one thing: protecting Jane. His body was flooded with adrenaline and who knows what other hormones, but his hands were perfectly still and his eyes perfectly focused and slightly dilated, ready to do whatever needed to be done.

On her count, Weller released a barrage of bullets, picking off their enemies as she ran. He saw everything all at once, his brain acting on reflex and a sense he had never experienced before. Jane approached, running at full speed in a crooked line before crashing through the opening above him and tumbling over him to the floor. Incoming shots continued and he lunged at her, pulling her from the floor and slamming himself into the side wall, arms around her, before turning them over to cover her with his body as quickly as possible. He covered her completely, wrapped her head in his arm, and wrapped his other arm around her waist while he pressed her to the wall, away from the incoming fire.

After a moment she yelled in his ear "hope I didn't hit you on the way in!" Weller looked up with a surprised smirk on his face. Their faces were only a couple inches apart, and he smiled briefly as he looked her in the eyes and shook his head, then as his smile seemed to spread, put his head back and pressed her against the wall again.

He remained there, covering her completely except her face, with an arm wrapped protectively around her head while he listened to Reade and Zapata handling the remaining shooters. Weller's body and mind were still in that state, perceiving everything through all of his senses, his mind overloaded yet perfectly focused. And he was focused on Jane. He felt her breath against his neck, his hair there rising against his will. He felt her body under his, and he felt his panic subsiding.

As he did, Weller realized it was because all he cared about was right there in his arms, safe.

The realization passed over him like a wave. It was a current he'd been fighting against for some time now, staying close to the beach, or getting out of the water altogether when the pull felt too strong. But this time… this time he held his breath and allowed himself to be pulled under, and let his body and mind drift in the waves of that realization, as he held onto Jane.

As they stood there, Jane felt a shift in him. After he looked at her, his body and face softened slightly, molding into her, pressing a little more than professional responsibility would require.

For the first time in over five months, as Jane stood pressed against the wall with Weller's body covering her, she felt a change. It was like small waves were washing through her body, and with each wave she felt bits of the woman she was before awaken. She felt Jane. And she felt protected. The warmth slowly washed through her as she waited for the firefight to end, enjoying the feel of Weller pressed against her, and a sense of personhood – of Jane – beginning to return to her.

As she felt the shift, she also felt herself leaning into him, face closer to his neck, and her body extending and increasing their contact. They both felt a slight flush wash through their bodies, heartbeats increasing slightly. Their bodies understood and enjoyed this dance, even if the two of them could neither understand nor explain what was happening between them.

When they heard Reade provide the all clear, Jane was surprised to find Weller staying just where he was, pressed against her for a minute before moving. When he did, he slowly dropped his arm from around her head, shifting it to her waist instead, and leaned back slightly, looking at Jane with a look of surprise, confusion, and concern. He had no idea how she would react to what had just happened or what he'd just done, or if she even noticed. Honestly, he was afraid of what he'd see when he looked at her.

She looked at him calmly, almost kindly, and offered him a single slow nod, eyes never moving from his, as a faint smile crossed her lips. She turned slowly and walked away, Weller not moving his eyes or his feet until she was out of sight.

It was a quick debrief when they got back. Weller's mind was elsewhere anyway, and he'd found himself staring at Jane more than once during the meeting. Once, he realized he was just staring at her, mind wandering while Reade spoke. He quickly looked away but instead caught Zapata's eye. She cocked her head slightly and raised an eyebrow as a small smirk crossed her face. Weller had looked away, putting a stern look back on his face, and quickly finished up the meeting.

The team had largely scattered after the debrief; Reade and Zapata disappeared, probably to grab a drink somewhere. Jane disappeared silently, as she always did. And Weller hid in his office, finishing paperwork.

He decided to grab a drink before heading home and decided to walk to bar just a few blocks from the FBI, hoping the walk and the cool air would help clear his head and the drink might help him relax after the day. Hell, after the last year.

Recovery

Weller ducked into the bar, and sat down near the bartender who offered a smile and a familiar hello. Kurt ordered his regular, drinking his drink and losing himself in thoughts of the day and of the last few months. He ordered another; Weller felt like his body was still on fire from the day, still sensing everything, and still feeling overwhelmed by it all. He hoped the dark liquid would soothe his body and his mind.

As he sipped, Weller slowly looked around the bar and out the front window. When he did, his heart stopped for just a beat, falling into his stomach. There sat Jane, cross legged in a booth, lost in thought as she drew in her sketch book and sipped her drink. She was beautiful, and he felt himself unable to look away, staring at her lost in her own head. He felt a freedom- maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was the distance- to look at her, really look at her, which he hadn't allowed himself in much too long.

He wasn't sure what to do next, so he ordered another drink to think about it.

The bartender chuckled as he poured his drink, seeing Kurt stare at the lady in the front booth. He chuckled, "very quiet, but attracts a lot of attention around here. Probably everywhere she goes" he added with a smile, "hard to look away, right?" he said, turning to Kurt. Kurt nodded in agreement with a slight smile of his own and looked back at the bartender. "Never leaves with anyone, but no shortage of guys trying" he said laughing. Kurt glanced back at Jane, he saw a man approaching her, offering her a drink.

The bartender saw Kurt stiffen and he leaned over with a smile after looking to see what might be causing his reaction, "don't worry about that one" he said with a chuckle, "she can take care of herself just fine" he added, eyes twinkling.

Kurt looked back at him questioningly, and the bartender continued after leaning a bit closer "sometimes she comes in late – must have funny hours or something. A couple weeks ago Tim – our bouncer – said two guys were giving her trouble outside on her way out. Tim was getting up to give her a hand but she dropped both of those fellas to the ground before he even got all the way out of his seat!" He let out a full belly laugh at that, leaning back "probably twice her size, by the way! We gave her dinner on the house the next couple times she came in" he added, still smiling. "Yeah," said Kurt, sipping his drink again and looking back over to Jane, "sounds about right" he added, a smile curling the edge of his lips as he took another drink. The bartender leaned back, watching Kurt, and wondered if maybe there was more to his preoccupation with the pretty brunette in the front booth. "Let me know if you need anything Kurt" he said with a smile, walking away to help another patron.

Weller sipped his drink in silence for a few more minutes before finally deciding to go say hello to Jane. He tried to think of an excuse, but he knew she'd see right through anything he came up with. He considered just leaving the bar, but once again he felt himself drawn to her and he realized he didn't want to fight it anymore. He remembered this afternoon, pressing against her, and the feeling he had when he knew she was safe. It was the first time he felt clarity in far too long. Weller slowly stood up, eyes never moving from her, and walked slowly over to her table.

"Hey" he said, smiling nervously as she looked up "didn't expect to see you here" he added with a small smile. "Feel like company?" he asked nervously, unsure how she'd react. Jane looked up in surprise and nodded quickly "sure" she said, smiling and gesturing to the empty seat across from her.

"Thought I'd grab a drink on the way home – quite a day today, huh?" Weller said, looking at Jane tenderly. She looked down, smiling slightly and replied "seems like they all are, doesn't it?"

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

Please let me know what you think so far!