AN: Yes, another story and I know you guys are sick of me but I can't help it my muse is happy to be submerged in Careese goodness where Joss is alive and John can find happiness. The title of this is actually a song title from a singer named Rachel Taylor and 'Light a Fire' screams Careese to me. If you never heard it you should definitely check it out on youtube :)

Elaine, as always, I love you for putting up with all these stories I throw your way. Thank you for being a friend and for fixing these eyesores so they can be readable.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, like usual. *pouts*

"Alright, where's my weapon?" John asked as he took the bag of limited personal effects confiscated from him when he was arrested to keep him out of harms' way until Harold could manage to dissolve the bounty on his head.

He was exhausted from worry and spending the entire night with Joss locked in the morgue and the two days in the holding cell. But his body hummed with sensations he didn't care to give names to as he walked beside Carter towards the intersecting sidewalk just off the entrance of precinct. He stopped as she turned to face him directly and he was hyperaware of her now. He couldn't erase the feel or memory of her lips under his, he didn't want to anyway. John couldn't quite recall the last time he had touched something as perfect as Joss Carter.

Joss smiled. "John Doe didn't have a permit. Your gun is property of the NYPD now," she said softly, teasing.

She stared up into his eyes and wondered; where did they go from here? Could she even remotely look at him as just a friend now, was that even feasible? After that soft but genuine kiss that blindsided her because it had been unexpected but not unpleasant, no, not unpleasant at all. It had been soft and gentle, so utterly different from how she expected John's kiss to be. Not that she contemplated on that subject all that much, she wouldn't let herself.

He shrugged. "Time I got some new hardware," he said nonchalantly, seemingly falling in a trance-like state as he was unable to drop her gaze.

Off in the distance it sounded like a car door was shut and it gently dragged Joss from her impure thoughts about John, making her groan internally. This was not good, one small brief kiss should not be doing this to her. Her eyes slipped free of the weird grasp John's had on hers to look past him and behind him to see Finch across the street from them, clearly there to pick up John. She was actually glad someone was going to take John home because she was still cautious about the fact that his number had been up, especially since Simmons was out there someplace…lurking like a demon in the night.

While she had flippantly remarked on this super-computer to Harold earlier in the afternoon her mind raced with many questions that she desperately needed answers too. And she was going to get those answers, but tonight was not the night for that. John needed some rest and relaxation after helping her bring down HR, spending an entire night holed up in the morgue with her, then being arrested and stuck in a holding cell for nearly 48 hours after. She had gotten her detective's badge back while he had been stewing in jail.

"Looks like your ride is here, I guess we were all worried about you," she murmured with a distracted glance at Harold before John was her sole focus once more. Worry hadn't even been the half of what she was feeling when John admitted to the fact that there was bounty for him, placed by HR. Scared anger had warred with worry and something else entirely when John had left her alone in the morgue with Quinn, using the air duct to escape the room to lure HR away from her. Joss still wasn't sure if she wanted to analyze all the emotions that swamped her when he practically said goodbye to her before he left.

As he had been gone and she waited for word, alone in the morgue with only a sedated Quinn as company, she had paced. Paced back and forth cursing John's name up and down, because it was supposed to be her taking down Quinn alone. And then she needed his help because she realized she couldn't do it alone, Quinn had too many friends in the right places, and there was no one else she wanted except John to be by her side. She lamented and complained, talking to herself like an insane person, but it helped quell her fears. Not to mention she had thought about his kiss, about what he told her, and John said more in what he didn't say. John wasn't one to open up. No, judging by his background she could understand why. It had to be hard to get close when everyone you ever got close to died.

John eyed Joss, unsure of what was running through her mind presently because she was simply staring at him as if trying to figure something out. He wondered if she wanted to know what he meant by the kiss he laid on her. He wasn't sure he could answer that question, so he cleared his throat. "If my number was up, I'm just glad I was with you. There is no one else I rather be with at the end," he admitted.

Joss's lips parted, oxygen clogged in her throat as her eyes searched his, seeing nothing but raw honesty residing there. "Me too," she managed. When did she become so parched? Why did her heart suddenly feel like it was going to pound out of her chest while his eyes dipped down to stare at her lips as if fascinated by them? Why did she press her luck by licking them? Joss knew the answers deep in her heart when John's bluer—than—blue eyes darkened with interest. How were they supposed to be just friends, brother-in-arms, buddies who had each other's back when there was something deeper and far more consuming simmering between them?

And whatever it was, she wanted to see it through regardless if it could leave her heart in pieces.

Joss tugged her thoughts and eyes off John as she turned to smile at Finch who limped over to them. "Hey,"

"Thank you for getting him out detective," Finch said.

"No need to thank me, Harold, I was happy to," she said sincerely, eyes soft on John before pinning Harold with a firm look. "Sometime soon though, you, John, maybe Shaw, and I need to have a little chat about your source."

Harold meekly nodded. "Of course, we'll sit down sometime soon."

Joss nodded in agreement. "Thanks, I need to get back in the precinct. I have some paperwork to do since I was the detective that released John Doe, which means you owe me drinks for the paper cuts and possible carpal tunnel I could develop," she said with a wink and a flirty smile at John.

"Sure," his voice was soft, not at all John Reese like. Like the real John seeped into the response with the Reese armor he wore slipping just a bit. She liked it. She liked that he felt like he could be his true self with her.

Joss reluctantly backpedaled before turning away from them and walked unhurriedly back to the precinct.

John watched as she left. Thanks to the half leather coat his eyes could easily caress Carter's nice backside. But he didn't take more than a few minutes to watch her, not wanting Finch to feel uncomfortable, and turned to walk to Finch's car.

Harold was trying to give John space. Trying to not ask about what he had overheard when John and Jocelyn had been holed up in the morgue before he had immediately muted them. Finch had been extremely pleased when John finally reached out and chose to share himself with someone. And he couldn't be happier that the someone was Jocelyn. Finch never was going to admit that he had always wondered if John's feelings for the detective had been more than platonic. John wouldn't ever cop to it even if he had asked.

He glanced at his friend who was trying to come out of his self-imposed shell. "I'm glad this is finally over," Finch murmured sincerely.

"Yea, me too, except Simmons is out there somewhere, but we'll get him," John admitted as he waited for Finch to round the car before attempting to climb in.

Finch was about to comment when a gunshot effectively rendered him silent. John's grunt as blood exploded everywhere to the sound of metal hitting metal meaning the bullet had gone straight through had Finch jerkily watching John's face contort in pain. Another gunshot sounded and Harold watched, panicked, as John slumped forward, leaning against the car before shoving away from it and a large crimson stain filling his crisp white dress shirt.

"RUN!" John commanded in a breathy gasp as he staggered to get in front of Finch to protect him as if he was nothing more than just a shield as Simmons appeared from the shadows. Finch turned and did as John requested, knowing John wouldn't be able to concentrate on fighting for his life if he was trying to protect him too.

Finch ran as fast as his impaired body could go and he nearly cried out as he heard another gunshot go off. But he didn't dare turn around, not when he was half dragging himself to the precinct to go get help. To go get Jocelyn, John needed her.

Just as he entered the precinct he saw officers running for the door with their guns drawn clearly hearing gunfire. "There is a man out there shooting!" Harold shouted in frantic fear. Finch desperately wanted to say: shooting a friend, shooting an unarmed man, but didn't because he couldn't, they'd want to know who he was and who John was.

Jocelyn was running to the front entrance gun drawn and her eyes met his before realization dawned in her eyes. "No," she whispered. "No, no, no, no." she kept repeating, getting louder, angrier as she bypassed him and ran for the door. Finch closed his eyes when he heard her muffled scream.

AN: Errr...well there you go and blame my muse for the angst because this was originally going to be a happy oneshot for Careese Themes. That had been the plan until I started writing it out and this happened instead. Also other than the glaring difference with the ending the other thing that is AU is where Harold parks and which set of shadows Simmons appears since it's across the street from the precinct :)

Thanks for reading, I'll try to post chapter 2 soon-ish.