****A/N This fic was inspired by a prompt from the POI Forum site. It was posted by BlackTop and it's about the possibility of the Machine contacting Carter on it's own and what would prompt this communication by it. Thanks to CarolinaGirl and Fanu for encouraging me to post ;-p and special thanks to Wolfmusic for being a beta who understands my control issues and love of commas and 'ands'. You're awesome. Enjoy.

"Okay. Now what? Think, Joss."

Carter muttered the words softly to herself as she crouched against a cold cement wall. She looked around her letting her eyes adjust to the dark and tried to get her bearings. She could feel her heart racing and she willed it to be still as she clutched her Glock tightly in her hands. There were only six rounds left. Her extra clip was empty so she had to make these count. The warehouse was dark and she heard approaching footsteps of what sounded like at least four, maybe five guys. She could make out the faint glimmer of flashlights as the men and the voices got closer.

"I know she's in here."

She heard the voice whisper, and swore silently, retreating swiftly into a small room to her left. The only exit to the building was now blocked and a thousand scenarios ran through her head.

"I got her in the shoulder, too. There was a blood spatter outside. It's definitely gonna slow her down."

It had slowed her down, but it hadn't stopped her, she thought as she heard him gloat. Carter had torn a piece off the bottom of her shirt and tied it around her arm to slow down the bleeding. The ache in her arm was nagging and constant, but she blocked out the pain. If she could just get out, if she could just find another way out of the building she could make it back to her vehicle and drive out to safety.

She'd had a lead on a meeting that HR was having with the Russians, the meeting she'd wanted to get eyes on since she'd first snapped pictures of Simmons with Terney and Yogorov. She'd finally know the identity of the mastermind behind the entire operation.

But she'd been discovered at her hiding spot, found by two of Yogorov's men. And while she'd taken them out successfully the gunfire had drawn the attention of the others and sent a group of them hot on her trail. She tried to get back to her vehicle, but their pursuit of her blocked her getaway path and she'd been forced to seek shelter in this old abandoned warehouse.

The stench of long forgotten furniture and collectibles filled her nose along with the smell of decayed rodents, and who knew what else, that had crawled in there and died. She felt a wave of nausea hit her and thought she would lose the contents of her stomach at any moment. She told herself to focus, to think of a way to get out.

That's when she spotted a window, a bit high up on the wall, but if she could find something to stand on, it looked big enough for her to crawl through. She looked at it, hearing the footsteps even closer now and figured it was her only chance. There was no other door that led away from this room, only a wall of large boxes that looked as if they'd collapse under the slightest weight. The only other thing to conceal her was a closet with one of its doors missing. Even if she took refuge in it, she wouldn't stay hidden for long.

How was she going to get out of here?

In the dark she made out what looked like an old wooden ladder, with a few rungs missing. It didn't look strong, it didn't look incredibly stable, but it was all she had right now. She pushed away from the wall she'd temporarily leaned on when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

Strange since she didn't remember putting it on vibrate. In fact she could have sworn that she'd cut it off right before she got here. She didn't want to risk it going off and alerting anyone to her presence and she didn't want to be bothered with conversation while she was close to a significant breakthrough in her investigation.

Who could be calling her now?

She couldn't talk, it wasn't the time, but the phone vibrated incessantly demanding to be answered.

She stared at the caller ID, confused by the display:

Unknown…..Unknown….

In an unspecified location, the hum of multiple servers could be heard, their sound escalating as new information was being processed. Carter's picture showed up side by side next to Peter Yogorov's on a monitor. Soon a digital tree with multiple branches, stems and an entire network of data started to form with calculations, predictions and deductions.

THREAT TO ASSET: Carter, Jocelyn

CRISIS LEVEL: 97.99%

DEATH OF ASSET IMMINENT: 98.99%

OPERATIONAL RELEVANCE: 21.575%

RELEVANCE TO PRIMARY ASSET & CONTINGENCY Reese, John: 99.999999%

PROBABILITY OF VIOLENCE FROM PRIMARY ASSET & CONTINGENCY Reese, John: 99.999999%

RELEVANCE TO ADMIN: 43.92%

CELL PHONE: Prepaid, Credit Card Purchase

917-XXX-1284

VERIFYING ID…

Calling Asset…..

Carter answered the call pressing the phone close to her ear and held her breath, unsure of who was on the other line.

"Jocelyn Carter. Can you hear me?"

The voice was unrecognizable, not sounding like one person at all, Carter thought. In fact it sounded like an amalgam of many voices both male and female.

It sounded…like a machine.

But it knew her name.

She squinted in confusion and slight irritation thinking it was a possible prank call and was about to hang up when the message came again.

"Jocelyn Carter. Can you hear me?"

The voice was more insistent this time and she suddenly wondered just who or what it was.

"Yes." She whispered, thinking that she needed to get to the ladder and try to get out the window while she still had time.

"Stay." Came the voice again as she began to move, and she ignored it. "Stay." The voice repeated and she looked around wondering if and how this person or thing could possibly see her. There were some old surveillance cameras in the room, one above the door and a few in each corner of the room. But this warehouse was old, probably hadn't been used in years. There was no way they could still be operable.

"Fire at 10 o'clock."

"I only have six shots left." She muttered adamantly under her breath.

"Fire at 10 o'clock."

She was skeptical, she wasn't sure who was talking to her on the other end, but she didn't have much time to contemplate or argue. Suddenly the heavy door to the room swung open and without thinking further about it she aimed and hit one of Yogorov's men in the chest while another one quickly followed him inside.

"Eleven o clock." The next guy took one in the chest and she watched him go down. She could feel the adrenaline pumping in her veins. She was getting her second wind as the voice directed her to take down yet another goon who'd entered the room.

"Got any other ideas?" She whispered into the phone. Right now the voice of this person on the other line was all she had. But she was sure she could hear the faint sounds of gunfire far off in the distance.

"Move now."

Though she'd been effectively guided in the last few seconds she was still hesitant, having only a few rounds left.

"Move now." It sounded almost like a drill sergeant, commanding her to obey. She made herself move from her hiding place at the wall and she stopped at the door. There were at least four guys she thought, and one of them was waiting for her. She knew she wasn't alone and she stood rooted to the spot with the phone to her ear.

"Three o clock."

The words were barely spoken before she turned to her right and fired. His body hit the wall before falling backward and his flashlight rolled toward her. Was there another one? The question screamed in her mind. She needed to be sure.

"Where's the last one?" She asked.

"Turn left and fire at 12 o'clock."

The last of Yogorov's men fell to the ground as she fired. His flashlight tilted upwards to his face before falling to the ground. The brief flash of light shone on his eyes and a chill ran through her at his lifeless stare.

"All threats neutralized. Move now."

Carter quickly left the building with her gun held steady in front of her. It was eerily quiet and there seemed to be no one else in sight. All she could hear was traffic in the distance.

"Turn right, and go straight ahead."

Her car was in the exact opposite direction she thought, but after having just been led her out of immediate danger, Carter did as she was told. After a while she heard footsteps on gravel and realized they were getting closer and having just one shot left in her firearm she decided to make a run for it.

Her arm started to throb again, and she could feel the nausea in her stomach once more. As she built up speed she could feel her heart rate increasing and felt slightly angry thinking about having just escaped the warehouse only to be captured and killed as soon as she got out.

The footsteps were getting closer but she refused to turn around. The person was gaining on her, fast.

Why hadn't they fired yet? she thought. Obviously she was an easy open target right now. She started to cry out as she felt two arms sliding around her and she was lifted off the ground to stop her gait. She struggled, her feet dangling in the air and she reached for her side arm determined to get off her last shot and possibly get away one last time. The gun was wrenched from her hands however and strong hands spun her around.

"Carter!" Before her name was called she managed to land one solid blow to her would be attacker's face and when she recognized the voice she let out a sigh of relief.

It was Reese.

"John! Oh g….." She could hardly speak for a minute.

She didn't think, she simply reacted and flung herself at him, hugging him tight about the waist.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, a look of concern on his face. She could only nod at him as she pulled away awkwardly but his hand lingered on her arm. Just then a Lincoln Town Car pulled up with Finch at the wheel. Reese drew her into the back seat with him and they sped away.

John's hand was around her waist as she leaned on him. Her injured arm lay on top of it and she winced as a sharp pain ran through it. They were all quiet in the car, none of them speaking and the small sound she made caused John to cast his eyes on her for a moment. She looked up at him but she said nothing and leaned her head on his shoulder again.

They'd communicated many times through eye contact, gestures and words, but the closest they'd been to each other physically was the time she helped him into the back seat of a car just like this. The other time they'd touched was when they'd gripped each other's arms in the DOD facility right before she watched him go up to the roof thinking he was about to die.

Both times their emotions were running high, almost unbearably so, it seemed fitting now that he held her snugly in his arms as they rode to one of Finch's safe houses. She wasn't sure how awkward they'd both be tomorrow, but she felt secure with his arm around her and wasn't inclined to move.

There was a doctor there waiting for them she realized and both Reese and Finch stood by silently as the young brunette removed the bullet and stitched up her arm.

She was tired, but she managed a smile as Reese stared at her broodingly while the doctor tended to her. Later when she was bandaged up, she sat on the couch feeling slightly drowsy from the medication she'd been given and she relayed the details of the evening to them both.

Finch insisted that she spend the night, believing it would be safer if she didn't go home. She called Taylor to make sure he stayed at her mother's and told him she was working late and wouldn't be home. After Finch left, Reese offered to make her something to eat, but her stomach still felt unsettled and she didn't think she'd be able to keep anything down. She asked for some tea instead and he happily agreed.

"If you want to change, take a shower, you can." He offered.

"You have women's clothes here, John?" She asked and her eyebrow shot up wondering what his answer would be.

He raised his hands in front of her and shook his head with an awkward smile.

"I don't, sorry. But you're welcome to wear one of my shirts. There's a pack of unopened boxer briefs in the back bedroom…you're welcome to them…"

He looked as uncomfortable as she felt, but they both laughed anyway. "Stop. No need to elaborate. But….I think I will take you up on that offer. I must look a mess." She started to turn toward the stairs, then stopped to look at him.

"Second door on the left."

"Thanks."

"Be careful with your….arm."

She nodded and disappeared into the hallway.

As she stared at herself in the mirror she opened her eyes at her reflection. A mess was an understatement. Her hair was askew, her shirt was dirty and torn and there was blood on her arm and on her hand. Her clothes would definitely have to be thrown out.

She undressed slowly and got into the shower, holding her arm against the wall, elevating it so it didn't get wet. It was pretty uncomfortable and it took a long time, but she managed eventually.

The clothes were in the bedroom just as John had said and after she dressed and put on his shirt she sat down on the bed finally feeling the effects of the evening kick in. She'd told them all about HR. She'd told them about being trapped in the warehouse, but she hadn't told them anything about her mysterious phone call. She didn't know how.

She didn't quite know what to make of it herself. How could she explain that an unknown voice had known and told her exactly where to shoot, when to shoot and how to get away? It was unbelievable to her own ears and mind even though she knew it really happened. It was as if God had been watching and decided at that moment that she needed divine intervention.

John appeared with the cup of tea in his hand and the room was filled with its rich smell and she took it from him. It was warm in her hands and she blew on it, cooling it a little before drinking some of it down. She noticed he'd taken his jacket off and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

He looked at her with a curious expression. It was the same one he'd given her a few weeks ago when he caught her off guard one night when she followed Simmons and Terney. It was a mixture of admiration, concern and a little bit of something else.

"I know what you're thinking." she said sleepily. "I know exactly what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking, Carter?" he asked as he sat next to her on the bed. Close. So close that their shoulders were touching. So close that his thigh was leaned into hers. So close that she could smell his aftershave that still lingered even though it was late evening.

"You think I should ease up. Stop what I'm doing."

"You've done enough. It's time to stop now, Carter. It's getting too dangerous."

"I'm close, John. I'm closer than I've ever been. I'm closing in on them…."

"That's what scares me, Joss. That you're closing in and they'll retaliate and try to hurt you."

"I can take care of myself." She said quietly and her gaze shot to her phone, and even though she was getting drowsier by the second, she remembered the voice again, her guardian, her protector, whatever it was that had saved her life tonight and led her to John.

"I know you can. I know you can do anything. And I know you won't stop."

She turned her head to look at him seeing the worry in his eyes that he was allowing her to see. He was truly scared for her. It was like the fear and regret that she felt in the DOD was mirrored in his eyes now. The fear that she would lose him forever and regret that he'd never know how much he'd come to mean to her.

And she was moved by it.

He put a hand behind her neck and kissed her forehead. She smiled at the gesture and was taken aback at the kiss he pressed to her lips directly after. It was brief, but tender and the way his lips lingered on hers conveyed the deep emotions he felt for her. It told her all the things that neither of them would say.

He took the cup of tea from her and placed it on the top of the bureau. He drew her into his arms, and wordlessly pulled her close to him on the bed.

Yes things would be very awkward tomorrow, she thought again as he started to rub her back.

"It feels good to have a guardian angel." She murmured right before she drifted off. "Glad to know someone's watching over me."

INCOMING SMS Text Message: ASSET IS SECURE