Detective Joss Carter was having a very bad day.

It started out normal enough. Her alarm clock went off at the usual time. She got her son Taylor fed and to school on time. She got to work on time.

Then it all went to hell.

The first thing she saw when she entered the precinct was Agent Mark Snow sitting at her desk, flipping through her paperwork. For a brief moment she considered shooting the SOB. It was bad enough that he was back to hassle her and to try to hunt down John, but to mess with her stuff, just to show her that he could? Could the man be any more of a dick than he already was?

Snow smiled a very insincere smile up at the detective as she approached. She did not smile back. "You're sitting in my seat," she said evenly. She was not going let him know she was pissed. She knew he wanted her angry and off-balance, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction. She had fallen for his psychological games before, but he had overplayed his hand. She was not falling for it again.

"No mention of the 'Man in A Suit' in weeks, detective", Snow observed while still wearing that insincere smile. "Are you getting lonely?"

'Oh, no, you are NOT', Joss thought to herself. Forcing herself to keep her voice steady, even a bit light, she responded. "Nope, haven't seen him lately, not since you shot him. Oddly, he doesn't seem inclined to talk to me anymore, not since I set him up for you. I think you blew your chance."

Snow's mood changed abruptly and he glared at her. "You better not be lying to me, detective. I can make your life a living hell."

"Snow, you have done nothing but lie to me since the day we met."

"This is not over, Carter."

"Oh give it up, Snow. Find someone who cares. You screwed up, not me. Now get out of my chair, I have work to do."

Snow glared at her, but left without another word. Joss met his glare with her best 'Are-You-Kidding-Me?' look and settled into her chair. To anyone observing the scene, Carter was completely unruffled by her encounter with the CIA agent, but inside her stomach was tied in knots the way it always was after Snow harassed her. She really wanted to call John and warn him that Snow was back. She desperately wanted to hear his voice. Hearing his low, sexy whisper always calmed her. She needed him to reassure her that he would protect her, that everything would be OK. Unfortunately, the fact that Snow was back meant she was being watched closely again, so the call would have to wait until she could get tosomeplace safe.

On top of everything else, Joss was feeling guilty; she really did not like being reminded of the night she almost got John killed. John had forgiven her almost immediately, but it was taking a lot longer for her to forgive herself. Like most perfectionists, Carter had a hard time forgiving herself when she screwed up, and that night she had made the worst mistake of her life. Snow had played her like the proverbial violin and she was angry at herself for believing him. She should have known better, John had saved her life. And she should have known that the man who saved her life could not have been the vicious, uncaring, unfeeling person thatSnow had described. The last thing she was going to do was help Snow find and kill John, even if it meant she had to throw herself in front of the bullet.

Since that night, Carter had learned that not only was Reese not the soulless killing machine that Snow had led her to believe he was, but he was pretty much the polar opposite. He saved her son from Elias, and she knew he had saved the lives of many other people. His entire life was consumed by saving people, protecting people, and she was going to doeverything in her power to protect him. Snow was not going to take John from her; she didn't even want to think about life without him in it.

Her mind in turmoil, her insides in knots, Carter turned to theone thing she could use to distract herself; her work. She had just started going through the paperwork Snow had been reading to make sure he had not altered or stolen anything, when her captain stopped by her desk.

"How's Szymanski doing?" he asked.

Thatwasswell, just what she needed, another dose of guilt; her second in less than five minutes.

"He's doing good. He should be back to work in a couple of weeks." Joss forced herself to sound cheerful and upbeat.

"Glad to hear it, he's a good man. Ever figure out how Elias found the safe house?"

"No, but he's got spies all over the place."

The captain nodded and walked back to his office.

After about an hour, Carter figured it was safe for her tosneak off tothe ladies room sothat she could call John. She tried calling a couple of times, but John was not answering his phone. Joss sighed; she really wanted to hear his voice, even if he was just going totease her until she was ready to shoot him.

As she was heading back to her desk, Fusco intercepted her. "Come on Carter, time to mount up, we got a new case."

Initially, Carter was grateful for the distraction. Then they got to thescene and found the veteran cop who was the first responder, badly shaken, which was never a good sign. Carter and Fusco soon discovered why the poor man was so upset when they entered the apartment.

The scene was nothing short of horrific. The victims were three small children, all under the ageof five, who had their throats slit. They were neatly arranged on the bed in the corner, side by side. There was a lot of blood. A woman, whom Joss assumed was the mother, was laying onthe floor next to the dead, her throat slashed as well. She held a knife in her hand. Murder-suicide, mother and small children, damn. Fusco and Carter exchanged sad looks; Fusco's mouth was set in a grim line and Carter could see in his eyes that he was thinking the same thing she was. This was going to be one of those cases that stayed with them and gave them nightmares for a long time to come. Then they pulled on their gloves and got to work.

After they thoroughly examined the scene, Fusco interviewed the uniformed officers who found the bodies while Joss searched the small apartment. She found the mother's medications for depression in the bathroom cabinet. They had been filled a few weeks ago, but the bottles were still completely full, not a single pill was missing. Since she was alone in the bathroom, she took a minute to put her head in hands.

After a few minutes, Joss pulled herself together, bagged the meds as evidence, and rejoined Fusco in the living room. They spent the next several hours working the case, talking to the neighbors, calling the mother's doctor, finding the next of kin and notifying them of the deaths. Joss was so involved in the case that she even forgot to try calling John again.

On their way back to the precinct, they passed by one of their favorite places for lunch. Fusco turned to Carter, "You hungry?"

Joss shook her head. "No, not in the least", she said in a flat tone of voice.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Me neither", Fusco growled.

They got back to the office and started filling out the paperwork. Joss got a Ginger Ale out of the machine to help settle her stomach, but it didn't work.

When it was finally time to go home, she was grateful that Taylor was going to a basketball game at his school and would not be home until late. She tried not to bring the ugly parts of her job home, to shield Taylor as much as she could from the violent world she inhabited, but sometimes a case came along that she simply could not leave at the precinct. At least she would have a few hours after she got home to grieve for the family that slipped between the cracks. By the time Taylor got home, she should be able to present a cheerful façade and not remind the boy that his mother brushed up against violence and death every day. Taylor worried about her enough as it was.

She was also grateful that there was a bottle of wine in the fridge at home. Tonight would be a good night to drink to forget as soon as her son was in bed.

She drove home slowly, found a parking spot around the corner from her building and dragged her tired body up to her apartment. She shut her front door behind her, and leaned back against it, letting herself sink to a sitting position on the floor, with her knees up to her chest. She buried her face in her hands, fighting for control.

"Joss?"

Joss looked up, kneeling in front of her was John Reese. "John, what are you doing here?"

"You called me earlier, remember? What's wrong?"

"Bad day. I'm sorry I forgot to call you again. Snow's back, I thought you should know."

"He didn't do this to you did he?" John's voice was low and deadly. "I'll make sure he never comes near you again."

Joss hung her head. "No, John, this isn't him. This is three babies whose throats were slit by their mother."

John gasped. He reached out and gently wiped a tear from her cheek. "I'm so sorry, Joss, I forget that you see some horrible things in your job", he said in the softest, gentlest voice she had ever heard. That snapped the last fragile hold she had on her control, and she started to sob. John gathered her into his arms and let her cry onto the shoulder of his dark grey suit. He sat quietly with her on the floor, just holding her close and letting her cry.

After several minutes she was thoroughlycried out and she lifted her head from his shoulder to see the big stain her tears had left behind. "Oh, geez, John I'm sorry I messed up your suit."

John smiled down at her. "Don't worry, I have a good dry cleaner." She actually gave him a small smile back.

He stood up, keeping his arms around herand pulling her to her feet. "I'll bet you haven't eaten anything today, have you?"

She shook her head, "Didn't really feel like it."

He gave her a gentle push towards the bathroom. "Go take a hot bath, I'll order some food."

"John, you don't have to do that..."

Joss started to protest, but he stopped her by laying a finger on her lips. "It's OK, I want to. I told you thatyouwere not alone and I meant it. Go."

By the time Joss got out of her bath, dinner had been delivered and John was setting a couple of places at the table. As soon as Joss caught a whiff of the food, she actually felt a bit hungry. John looked up when she paused in the doorway. "Feel better?"

Joss returned his smile. "Yeah, I do, a bit, thanks."

"Good, then let's eat and you can tell me about your bad day."

So Joss did. She told him aboutfinding Snow sitting at her desk, and John got a guffaw over how she blew him off. He listened quietly without interrupting her while she talked about the murder-suicide. There was no teasing, no flirtatious banter, just an attentive and sympathetic listener. Joss was grateful beyond words for his kindness. She knew he had to have seen some pretty horrific things during his stint in the Army and in the CIA, and thathe understood what she was feeling.

Finally he looked at his watch, "I had better get going, Taylor will be home soon."

Joss wished she could think of an excuse to keep him there, but she couldn't. He was probably needed somewhere else anyway. She had heard his phone buzz a couple of times in the last hour and she suspected Finch was trying to get in touch with him. She walked him to door, and just before he opened it, she looked up at him and put her hand on his cheek, "Thank you, for everything."

John stared at her for a minute; the look in his eyes was so gentle Joss's breath was taken away. Then he smiled, a real smile, not a smirk, and brushed her cheek with his elegant fingers. "You are most welcome, Carter." And then he was gone.

Joss locked the door behind him, and leaned her forehead against the door jam. She did feel better.