Author's Note: Well this is my first time writing for Person of Interest. I'm a huge fan of the show (and of the Carter/Reese ship) so this has been coming for a while. Send in your prompts/song suggestions and I'll do my best to write a one-shot for you. This chapter is based on "Angel With A Shotgun" by The Cab. Special thanks goes out to quietfireca for creating that awesome video on Youtube. I would never have known about this incredible song without it.

Get out your guns, battle's begun,

Are you a saint or a sinner?

The Library

2:07PM

John sat down in Harold's usual place in front of the computer screens and watched the other man take down photos of their latest POI from the large glass pane. "That wasn't as easy as it could have been." He rolled his right shoulder up and back, wincing at the pain in his muscles. It had been a long four days.

Harold turned his entire body to glance at him before continuing with his work. "Although Detective Fusco has proven himself to be quite the ally in the field as of late…I will be the first to admit that Joss and her skills are missed."

"Joss?" One of John's dark eyebrows quirked upward in surprise and amusement while his eyes seemed to darken at the mention of her name.

"Pardon me, Mr. Reese. Detective Carter," Harold corrected himself tensely. It was hard to determine when it was he had ceased to think of Jocelyn Carter simply as an invaluable asset.

John lowered his gaze to the main screen. One of the four boxes of surveillance featured there was focused on Carter's desk at the station. It was currently unoccupied. He briefly looked at all of the feeds from the stations' cameras as though she would be seen but she was nowhere in sight. In fact, Carter had been nowhere in sight for about three months. "How is she?"

"She's keeping her distance."

"Clearly."

Silence fell as Harold pulled down a bank statement that had proved that their POI was the perpetrator, hired to murder his employer's best friend. He could feel John's eyes boring holes into his back. Finally, he sighed. "I believe Fusco mentioned something about Detective Carter's relationship with the narcotics officer deterring the FBI from hiring her. It's a shame. She would make an excellent agent." He still remembered the not-well-hidden excitement in the woman's voice while she worried about taking the polygraph test.

"Why would the Bureau care if she's dating Beecher?"

"I'm afraid Cal Beecher happens to be the subject of several investigations." John straightened in his chair so suddenly that Harold turned to face him. "We cannot get involved, Mr. Reese. Not now. They will be monitoring her very closely for the next few…"

"Is she in danger?"

"The Machine doesn't seem to think so. Fusco is keeping a close eye on the situation. Physically, she should be out of harm's way."

"And not physically, Finch?"

Finished with his task, Harold looked at John pointedly until he relinquished his seat. John went to stand on the other side of the table. "Detective Carter has not yet dealt with the events of three months ago. It was an emotional time for her, from being arrested by Agent Donnelly to having to leave you to die, perhaps the first time in her impressive career that she left a man behind. Her current anger and frustration are understandable and quite justified." Seeing the way John's blue eyes narrowed, he softly cleared his throat. "At least in my opinion."

John crossed his arms against his chest, wordlessly peering down at him. Should he have reached out? For what purpose? Carter knew from the beginning that he was a dead man walking. He still remembered the surprise he had felt when she had grasped onto his arm that night, refusing to let him commit an explosive act of self-sacrifice. Dead man walking. She should have known it was part of the job.

After he and Harold had come down from the roof and onto the street where hordes of people were standing around gasping at the billows of smoke still coming from Kara's car, he half-expected Carter to be standing there in front of the building, waiting to see that he was alright. He wanted her to know he was safe. Harold had rushed him along but not before he caught sight of her petite figure and heard her giving orders to several officers to get the crowd back. Back to work. That was expected. But back to those days after Leila's case when she had zero contact with them? He hadn't anticipated that.

At a sudden thought, John unfolded his arms to set his hands flat on the table's surface and lean forward. "Whose idea was it for Carter to keep her distance from me? Hers or yours?"

"Regardless of who made the choice. Mr. Reese, you have to admit it is the safest…"

"So it was your idea then."

Harold met his eyes with his usual impassive gaze despite the fact that John's voice had deepened into a low growl. "Detective Carter is in total agreement with me. The FBI will be monitoring her quite closely now and communication with you, their Man in the Suit who is now believed to be dead, would be…inconvenient for her to say the least."

John scoffed. "I can contact Carter without the FBI picking up on it."

"Pardon me for saying so but the last time you thought you could communicate with Carter without FBI scrutiny, Agent Donnelly arrested the both of you." Again, Harold's gaze returned to his screens.

John opened his mouth to respond but was stopped by the sudden ringing of his phone. He shoved his hand into his coat's pocket with a glare. "This conversation isn't over, Harold."

"It is for me, Mr. Reese."

He practically cracked his phone's screen with the force by which he pressed Talk. "What is it, Fusco?"

"Hey Wonderboy, we've got ourselves a bit of a problem here."

If love's a fight, then I shall die,

With my heart on the trigger.

They say before you start a war,

You better know what you're fighting for.

Somewhere In New York City

2:13PM

Joss winced as she was unceremoniously pushed down onto a cement floor. Her surroundings made dark due to the heavy cloth bag on her head; she listened closely to the sounds of the men who had taken her as they discussed how to deal with the nosy detective who had stuck her nose too far into HR's business. Everything was echoing. Large, expansive room, possibly a warehouse of some kind. They had only been driving for thirty minutes at most. She racked her brain for all warehouses that distance away from her apartment.

The bag was yanked from her head so suddenly that her entire body fell back but she was quickly righted. She took a deep breath of stale air and glowered up at the two men glowering right back down at her. Their faces were familiar to her. They had been there the night that Don Basile was shot. They'd abandoned her on Elias' orders. Or was it HR's orders? Sometimes it was hard to know which trash called the trash. "McNeil…Valdez. Are you two upstanding officers of the law still doing a crime boss's dirty work?"

Valdez raised a hand to slap her, and she relaxed her jaw in anticipation. McNeil grabbed his arm. "Let the bitch say what she wants. You know Quinn wants her unharmed."

Valdez jerked away with a nod. "Fine. But watch what you say around her."

Quinn? Joss furrowed her brows. As in Alonzo Quinn? "The mayor's chief of staff?" The two men glanced at each other and then stared at her, uneasiness showing in their faces despite their glares. "Why the hell would the mayor's chief of staff want you two goons to kidnap me?"

"Because the mayor's chief of staff is my godfather. And I want to keep you safe."

Her entire body tensed at the sound of Cal's voice. "I should have known," she muttered under her breath as he came walking up from behind her.

His gaze scanned her body for any injuries. "I know what you're thinking, Jocelyn. You think we're just a bunch of corrupt cops. You think we're the bad guys." Cal shook his head. "It's not really that simple."

Joss raised an eyebrow, unable to stop the cynical smirk that came across her lips. "Actually it is."

Queensboro Bridge

2:32PM

"…And then I get a call from this lady, yelling and screaming about how Carter's been taken. After I got her to stop blowin' out my eardrum, she explains that she's a CI and the reason why Carter left the precinct early this afternoon. The lady was supposed to meet Carter at the basketball court across from her apartment. She saw the whole thing. Carter left the apartment, walked three steps down the sidewalk and got dragged into a car at gunpoint."

John nodded. "Did she see anything else?"

"Yeah." Lionel turned to look at him and Harold with a sigh. "They were cops. She said she'd been busted by both of them once upon a time. Recognized them immediately."

Finch looked out across the East River. "There's no telling where she's been taken. I can't track the signal on her phone which means they've probably taken it and turned it off."

"So you're saying we just wait for her body to show up?"

John angled his body toward Lionel. "We're going to find her. Alive. We just have to wait for her to tell us where she is."

"How's she supposed to do that without a phone?"

"Carter's a lot more resourceful than you think. She'll figure something out."

Lionel let out an incredulous snort but paused before making a snarky comment, instead taking in the unusual expression on the taller man's face. There were many things he still didn't know about John Reese, but one thing he did know was that Reese cared about Detective Joss Carter more than he would probably ever admit. He gave a wry smile and walked away from the railing, making his way back to the precinct.

Sometimes to win, you've got to sin,

Don't mean I'm not a believer

…and Major Tom will sing along

Yeah, they still say I'm a dreamer

Cal gestured to someone behind her and Joss heard the sound of a chair being dragged forward. Grasping her arm, he gently pulled her to stand. "That floor's pretty uncomfortable to kneel on. Why don't you take a seat?"

She glanced at the chair, looked the man who had brought over it, and then slowly sank down. "What is this about, Beecher? Why am I here?"

He frowned at her use of his last name but acquiesced. "I'm really sorry about the FBI, Jocelyn. I know how much you've wanted a position in the Bureau, and if I had known that they would turn you down because you're dating me…"

"Because I dated you," Joss interrupted. She sighed at the hurt look on his face. "Come on now, I think it's safe to say we're done."

Cal looked as though he wanted to argue that point but instead he simply continued. "The Bureau is tracking you pretty closely right now. That's not good news for you and it's certainly not good news for your gun-happy friend." Her eyes widened, and he nodded. "We weren't expecting it to be so easy to convince them that the rogue CIA agent was the legendary Man in the Suit himself but at that point they were so sick of hearing about it from Donnelly, they'd believe anything. Case is closed for them. Not for us."

Joss lowered her gaze to the floor, attempting to slow her now-racing heartbeat. "What do you want with the Man in the Suit?"

"It's not really me. It's HR. I just help out when I can."

"Fine. What does HR want with the Man in the Suit? And damn it Beecher, don't play games with me. Just answer the question."

"To put it simply…" Cal began to pace in front of her. "HR wants your man dead. Really dead this time. And, Jocelyn, we know he's got a soft spot for you. It was about a year ago that he stopped Elias from killing you, wasn't it? The cop-killer saving the cop. Took everyone by surprise."

Her gaze rose to meet his sharply. "What did you just say?"

Cal chuckled. "For a beautiful lady who knows just how beautiful she is, you sure are oblivious when a man wants you."

Joss almost stood up and strangled him in frustration. "Believe me, I'm not his type. What did you say about cops?" McNeil stepped forward, brandishing two photographs from his jacket. She only glanced at them for a moment before whispering, "Stills and Davidson. You're telling me the Man in the Suit…you're telling me he killed them?" She shook her head firmly. "No. It was a cop."

"It was the Man in the Suit. Trust me, Jocelyn. He's killed enough of our people for us to know when it's him or not." Cal reached out to touch her hair but Joss recoiled and shoved his hand away. Valdez reached for his gun; Cal held out a hand to calm him. "You know, one of the things I love about you is your ability to see that it's not always black and white. The good guy doesn't always do good things. The seemingly bad guy might have the best intentions. Whether you believe it or not, HR is taking back this city to make it better."

Get back into the conversation. Stop gaping at them all like you're so shocked. Joss blinked twice. "I've heard that spiel before, Beecher. From Elias. No wonder you people work so well together." She gave her head another firm shake as if to jolt herself away from the rapid-fire thought that were filling her mind. "What do you want with me? Want me to lead you to the Man in the Suit? I wouldn't know where he is."

"We figured as much. We've been trailing you for weeks now, Jocelyn, and he's been keeping his distance." Cal held out a hand and McNeil placed a sheet of paper in it. "There's a five o'clock flight out of New York to Saint Petersburg. You're gonna be on it."

Her jaw dropped. "Saint Petersburg…Russia? You're sending me to Russia? That's ridiculous."

"It's good for business. We know your friend relies on you to get intel on HR and we can't afford to have you ruining our plans to get rid of him. Besides, our allies in Russia will treat you kindly. They've already procured housing for you and a tutor in the Russian language."

"How…sweet." Joss clenched her fists by her sides, her fingernails dug painfully into the palms of her hands. She had to channel her energy and keep thinking rationally. "What about Taylor?"

Cal shrugged. "He'll be sent to live with your mother. We'll tell him that you've been given an assignment in Russia. I'm sure he'll understand. Taylor's used to not having you around anyway."

Oh that was it. Joss stood quickly and took a step toward Cal, uncaring of the sound of three guns being pulled on her. "You son of a…!"

Valdez grabbed one of her shoulders in a tight grip and pushed her to sit again, his gun pressing into her ribs. She raised her hands in submission. "At least…let me call him. Let me tell him that I'll be gone. He deserves to hear it from me."

The men looked to Cal; he narrowed his eyes. "Why should we trust you with a phone?"

"She doesn't know where we are, Cal," McNeil said, producing his own cellphone. "And the kid probably doesn't even know we took her. He's probably still in school. Wouldn't have time to contact anyone at the precinct."

Joss nodded. "Let me talk to my kid, Cal."

After searching her face for a moment, he took McNeil's phone and slowly handed it to her. "I won't stop Valdez from shooting you, Jocelyn. Don't mess this up."

Valdez reluctantly stepped back from her; she dialed the number that she had memorized a long time ago and lifted the phone to her ear. "Trust me. I won't."

"Put it on speakerphone."

The Library

3:21PM

Harold looked from the ringing phone to John with a frown. "It would seem we were right to reroute Taylor Carter's calls to your phone. However, it's quite out of HR's coldhearted nature to allow a kidnapped mother to contact her son."

"Joss is probably a very persuasive kidnapped mother." John began to press Talk and then paused. "This is what we've been waiting for. Are you ready to track the phone's signal?"

"Yes, Mr. Reese." Harold settled his hands lightly on top of his keyboard in anticipation.

John answered the call, took a breath before speaking, but was interrupted by Joss.

"Hey baby, sorry to call you in school. Don't say anything, okay? Just let me talk."

I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting 'til the war's won

I don't care if Heaven won't take me back

I'd throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Warehouse

Greenpoint, Brooklyn

4:30PM

"Why the hell did you come here?" Joss kicked McNeil's Beretta further away from the officer's prostrate body, kneeling quickly beside him to check his pulse before standing and leveling a frustrated glare at John. He had entered the warehouse five minutes earlier, guns blazing and making short work of both McNeil and Valdez. Once he threw her a gun, she took care of the third officer. Beecher had scurried off like the little rat he was before either of them could take a shot at him. No doubt Alonso Quinn had already received a call informing him of what had happened.

"There's just no pleasing you, is there, Carter?" John strode over to her. "Let me guess, the correct response to hearing a man punch you in the face during a fake phone conversation with your teenage son was to…?"

"They wanted you to come for me. There was a reason why I called my son instead of you."

John bent to grab McNeil's Beretta. Contrary to what Harold believed, one could never have enough Berettas in their closet of weapons. "Did you want Taylor to call us?"

"No."

"Then how were you planning to get out of here? That chokehold you had Valdez in was impressive but I can't imagine what you were going to do next."

Joss harrumphed softly. "I've been in tough spots before without a knight in shining armor to come rescue me, John. I wanted to call Taylor just in case but…did you really think I would let HR ship me off to Russia without some kind of fight?"

He found himself reaching out to touch the bruise that was starting to darken on her jawline, then found himself smiling inwardly when she didn't recoil. "I told you you'd never be alone, Carter. I meant that."

She closed her eyes, feeling the tension that had been building for the past four hours finally release. "You have good intentions. Sometimes you don't go about it the right way." Her eyes snapped open as she remembered Cal's words. "Did you have good intentions when you killed Stills and Davidson? Were they murdered in cold blood or did you have a reason behind what you did?"

He pulled back his hand as though her skin had suddenly shocked him and took a few steps back as her gaze hardened. Beecher must have told her. John silently cursed. He was going to tell her, in his own way, in his own time. Finch had warned him a while back that she was investigating the two officers' homicides but he hadn't thought about it since then. "Stills and Davidson were corrupt."

"Too corrupt to be tried by the justice system?"

"Stills was going to attack an Assistant District Attorney and his innocent son."

"And Davidson?"

"Davidson was seconds away from putting a bullet in your partner's skull."

So Fusco had known all the while who was responsible. Joss tilted her head to the side and sighed. It was somewhat of a relief to know that he hadn't been about to confess to Davidson's murder that afternoon in the interrogation room.

John watched emotions of confusion and relief play out on the detective's expressive face. "I thought you'd prefer I didn't let Fusco get shot. As for Stills…you've always said that a life saved is a life saved, no matter the circumstances." He motioned toward the warehouse entrance. "You gonna start chasing me again? Could I at least get a head start?"

She released a short, humorless chuckle. "I think I've chased you enough for a lifetime, John. Besides..." The wry smile on her face disappeared so suddenly that he took a step toward her and grasped her arm. "Chasing you always seems to lead to a body count and now HR knows for sure that you're alive. They'll be looking for you."

"You could've died because you wanted to protect me." John glanced out toward his car parked haphazardly outside of the warehouse. "There's one thing you should never forget, Carter. I'm a dead man walking and…"

The palm of her hand collided with an echoing smack against the side of his face as soon as he turned back to face her. Joss shook out her hand and began walking to the car. "Let's get out of here. Last thing I need right now is another stand-off with HR officers."

John stood for a moment staring at her retreating figure before catching up with a few long strides. "Something you wanna get off your chest, Carter?"

"Nothing that I can think of, no." She jerked open the passenger door and slid inside without another word.

He raised his brows and closed the door, quickly getting in and starting up the car. "Finch told me you've been a little on edge since…"

"Since you tried to blow yourself up on top of a roof."

"You know, I wasn't really trying to blow up, Carter. It was inevitable at that point."

"No. No it wasn't." Joss angled her body so she could face him. "I could've disarmed that vest, John."

He held up a hand from the wheel. "You could've tried to disarm the vest. You could've tried and succeeded but you also could've tried, failed, and left Taylor an orphan." John took his eyes off of the side street they were driving on to search her face. "You weren't thinking clearly. The idea that no man gets left behind can't apply to me."

"Because I have to be prepared to leave you behind one day."

That wasn't a question. Maybe she was finally getting it. He nodded and again devoted his attention to the road. "One day I'll be gone. And you'll miss me dearly."

She narrowed her eyes. "Won't."

"You will, Detective. But until that day…" Without turning, he reached out to hold her hand in his own. "You won't have to watch me walk away from you again."

Joss looked down at their interlocking hands. "We're supposed to be keeping our distance from each other, you know."

" 'Cause we're just so good at that."

They say before you start a war,

You'd better know what you're fighting for.

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