Even as a young girl Juliet O'hara relied on herself to get through difficult times. Her father was never there for her – (or at least, she wasn't aware of it when he was) and her mother never stopped resenting him for leaving. Her mother always did her best for Juliet and her brothers, but growing up in that situation made someone a bit more…tough? Or independent, or head-strong – all of which described Juliet. She was dedicated to what she believed in, almost to a fault. This is what made her such a good detective – someone who had risen through the ranks quickly, and excelled.

Juliet poured over her work, rereading the same details over and over again. There had to be something that they had missed in this case. It had kept her and Detective Lassiter at work late all week. The station was humming with silence, not too many people were left at this hour. The clock read 10:07 pm as Juliet yawned and stretched her tired limbs. She looked over at Lassiter, hunched over his desk, no doubt going over the same details in the papers sprawled out before him. She could practically hear his brain whirring from where she sat.

She shuffled her papers back together, too tired to get anymore headway in the case, she decided.

"Carlton, I think I might call it a night," he looked up at her, seemingly startled to see that she was still there.

"Oh yes, O'hara, you should head home," and looked back down at the information laid out before him.

"When were you going to go home? We've both been here all day. I know you are as tired as I am," she got up and walked over to his desk to lean against it, arms folded. Over the years she had gotten to know her partner very well– better than anyone else did, whether she was aware of this or not. She knew how stubborn he was – extremely stubborn. More stubborn than anyone else she knew, to be completely honest. And sometimes he needed just a little push, and more often than that he needed holding back. Tonight he needed the push to go home.

"O'hara – "

"No," she held up her hand to stop him from giving his excuse, "I'm serious, Carlton, you've been staying late every night – even later than I have. I know you're tired."

"But – "

All she needed to do was give him a look – raise an eyebrow. He scoffed, looking up at her. After a long pause, he gave an expression of defeat.

"Ok… you're right," he got up from his chair, his tall lean body very close to Juliet's. He was much taller than her, a fact especially obvious when she switched into flats for the evening. His broad shoulders, those blue eyes, the way his dark hair was tousled after a long day's work, his efforts to keep it tidy forgotten - she could feel herself heat up and quickly moved back to her desk. Dammit. These feelings needed to stop.

"I know," she quipped, gathering her things up from her desk; putting away the information about the case. She turned back to him again as he began buttoning up his coat. She watched as his fingers worked their way up. His hands were strong; Juliet knew this. He could pull his gun in less than a second, take someone down if he needed to and cuff them quicker than any cop Juliet had seen. He was incredibly tough, and way more intense than anyone else. But in this profession that intensity was often needed. Any hesitation and things could go south fast. There was good reason he was head detective. Juliet admired Carlton Lassiter…more than anyone else she knew. She was incredibly lucky, she felt, to have been paired with him.

His dedication to the job rivaled her own. She knew that too. She knew her worth – she knew she was tough, smart, dedicated. She also knew that she felt things very deeply, and things got to her maybe more easily than most. As she watched him straighten up she had a brief flashback of their night together after he had come to save her (Gus had come too) from the clock tower. Nothing too crazy happened between them – well… Juliet knew that night was the beginning of her growing feelings for her partner.

*** a few months earlier ***

He took her home after the brief at the station. He made sure she got a little food in her, made her tea, waited outside her bedroom door as she slipped out of dirty clothes and showered. Finally. She had never wanted a hot shower more than in that moment.

Twenty minutes passed and she walked out in sweats and a T- shirt, at least comfort wrapped around her physically. Though in her mind she was all but comfortable. She wasn't exactly sure how she felt. He got up from where he sat, leaning against the wall outside her bedroom. She wanted to ask him to stay –

"I'm staying here, Juliet."

He said it before she even had a chance to ask. He said it in a way that suggested no arguing.

"Chief Vick asked if I would… I would have regardless, anyway…" he trailed off. He was looking at her with the deepest concern.

"Thank you, Carlton," Juliet had broken down against him only hours earlier. She leaned into him and felt him wrap his solid arms around her, she felt some peace wash over her once again.

So he stayed in her guest room just down the hall; in the beginning, anyway. Juliet woke from a nightmare only a few hours later – she sat up suddenly, sweating, breathing heavily, shaking herself from what she had been dreaming about. Just falling… Then hitting the ground.

Carlton was by her, palm against her cheek, telling her she is OK, smoothing her hair back, wiping at the tears she just now realized covered her cheeks.

"Stay here with me," she managed to say as she calmed down. She knew how to calm herself down when she felt overwhelmed. Breathe in. Breathe out. Simple and universal. Although, she had never had to calm down from something like this.

"OK," he said, "let me just go get a few things." She was surprised he had agreed…but also not surprised. She knew he was protective of her, and cared for her. She felt the same way about him.

She felt a cold shiver as soon as he stepped through her doorframe, but he was back again soon. Pillow and blanket in hand – he began setting up on the floor, "Carlton…no," she wiped at her cheeks, sticky tears muddled her features, "you cannot sleep on the floor." He looked at her hesitantly, straightening up. He cleared his throat "but…" he looked at the empty space next to her, then back at her again, "O'hara… I –"

She looked at him deeply and whispered, "Please."

"OK."

He didn't need a lot of convincing. Juliet didn't know the full scope of why that was, either. He didn't have any extra clothes with him when he brought Juliet home, his overnight bag he brought with him to go to the office unfortunately lay forgotten at his own home. He was in his thin white undershirt and boxers. And socks, Juliet noticed. Which apparently he slept in, she felt a small laugh rise in her throat that resolved into a small smile.

Lassiter looked surprised at the sight of Juliet smiling, after the night she'd had, "What?" he asked a little defensively.

"Nothing," Juliet lay back down and cuddled up under the covers, watching as her partner made a pillow barrier between them. He also decided to use his own blanket, laying on top of her own comforter. She rolled her eyes to herself, but was also thankful for this barrier he had put up between them.

Both of them thankful for this barrier. They valued their partnership.

"Goodnight, Carlton… thank you."

They were looking at each other as they lay there, pillows dividing them.

"Goodnight, Juliet. Please get some rest."

Juliet woke first. Carlton's arm was reaching over the pillows he had put into place, his hand lying heavy over her own.