The house was quiet as Joss Carter lay in bed, the world around her a warm haze as she sniffed thickly through her blocked nose.
It was rare that Joss took a day off work; between looking after Taylor, her work, and her… well, her side job, for want of a better word, she didn't have a lot of free time to kick back and relax. It was only when she was too sick to get out of bed that she would call the station and take the day off.
Today was one of those days.
Joss didn't know whether she was actually ill – there was always someone with the odd cough or cold at the station, and she could have caught it off of any one of them – or if her body had finally needed a break from her workload, and was telling her to take some time off for once.
Although from the feel of her dry throat and clogged nose, it wasn't exhaustion keeping her down.
Joss curled up on her side, nuzzling her head into the pillow. She allowed one arm to venture out from under the blanket which Taylor had tucked around her before he'd left for school. Her fingers groped around on the table by her bed until they knocked the roll of throat sweets off onto the floor and out of her reach.
Letting out a feeble groan, Joss debated whether or not it was worth sitting up for the packet. She made an attempt to push herself up, but her headache, which had been subdued by her rest, rose in a wave of pain.
Joss gave up, instead opting to wait until she had mentally prepared herself for such a challenge.
That, or she could wait until Taylor got home. There were only a few more hours. Joss could survive a few hours.
As soon as she'd made her decision, the world decided that it would add to her misery; Joss heard a sharp knock on the door, and wondered why she couldn't catch a break. She was ill, wasn't that punishment enough for one day?
Usually Joss would answer the door, but she decided against it. If it was important, she'd know soon enough. The pillow against her head was welcoming as she relaxed once more, trying to ignore the burning in her throat. She vaguely heard a rap on the door again, but Joss remained strong in her choice to ignore it as she rolled over on the bed, her cheek finding the cool half of the pillow. She let out a sigh before she sniffed loudly, breaking the illusion of comfort as her blocked nose reminded her that this wasn't a voluntary day off.
For about a minute, Joss dozed in an attempt to ward off her illness through rest. It was a good minute; if it had been allowed to continue, she might even have fallen asleep.
She heard the door open even in her hazy state of mind. A glance at the clock told her that it wasn't Taylor walking through the door, and nobody else had the key to the house. Joss's mind immediately went into defence mode, and she forced herself up so she could clumsily grasp the handle of her drawer. Pulling it open, Joss grabbed the handgun resting on top of an array of papers and turned so she was facing her bedroom door, ready to surprise the intruder with an angry, ill police woman who just wanted a nap.
Footsteps trod softly up the stairs, and Joss held her breath as the intruder paused by her door. Joss kept the gun by her side, gripping it tight in case she needed to aim and fire quickly. She was ready for whoever came through the door.
She was surprised, to say the least, when the intruder knocked on the door.
"Carter?" A voice she knew all too well said quietly. "Are you awake?"
Joss let out a huff, releasing her grip on the gun before shaking her head.
"Damn it, John," she said, her voice a weak rasp. "I could have shot you!"
Her response was enough to tell John that he could open the door. Joss leant against the back of the bed, raising her eyebrow at John as he walked into the room, a plastic bag which seemed to be straining at the seams in his hand.
"Good to see you too, Carter," John said as walked towards her, stopping by her bedside table. He quickly scooped up the throat lozenges which had rolled away from Joss earlier, and held them out to her.
"Thanks," Joss said as she took them from him, suddenly alert from the rush of adrenaline at the threat of an intruder.
Unwrapping one of the small sweets from its opaque wrapper and popping it into her mouth, Joss narrowed her eyes at John. "So why are you here? Don't tell me my number came up, because today I'm not up for running around town," she said, her words thickened by the lozenge rolling around her mouth."And if my number hasn't come up, you better have a damn good reason for breaking into my house. Because that's not okay, John, we really need to have a talk about boundaries."
"Lionel told us you were sick," John replied, raising the bag in his hand as he spoke. "I brought you some soup to make you feel better."
Joss blinked in surprise; she swallowed the remainder of the lozenge, the taste of artificial strawberry briefly soothing her aching throat.
"You… brought me soup," Joss stated, confusion lacing her words.
"Yes."
"You brought me soup."
John nodded, one eyebrow raised as he looked at Joss in concern.
"You brought me soup?"
"I'm not sure why that's so hard to comprehend, Carter."
Joss shook her head, a dry laugh escaping her. It hurt her throat to do so, but she couldn't help but wheeze at the situation.
"I'm sorry John, but you're not the kind of person who brings soup. You're a vigilante who fights crimes whilst hiding from the law, hired by a reclusive rich guy to save people."
"You're right," John said, giving Joss a nod and a grin. "But I also bring soup to my sick friend. I'm multi-talented like that." Joss rolled her eyes, sliding down the wall to rest her back more comfortably.
"Well, that's very nice of you John. Still doesn't mean it's okay that you broke into my house."
"You didn't answer the door. I was worried," John said. And besides, technically I didn't break in." John's spare hand slid into his pocket, pulling out a key Joss recognised. "I bumped into Taylor earlier. He was worried about you too, asked if I'd check in."
Joss's head snapped to face John, her eyes narrowed in anger.
"I swear to God John, if you purposefully went looking for my son-"
"Of course I didn't, Carter. What do you take me for?" John raised his hands in defence, the plastic bag still tight in his grip, as his eyes flicked briefly to the gun resting beside Joss on the bed. He spoke calmly, slowly. "I was heading over here anyway after Lionel told me you were ill. I saw Taylor on my way, he asked me to look in on you and gave me his spare key. I went to the grocery store to pick up these," he gestured to the shopping bag in his hand, "and came over. I was going to check you were awake, and if you didn't respond I was just going to leave."
"I don't need to be checked up on."
"I know. But Taylor asked me to promise, and I wasn't going to break it."
Joss scanned John's face for any traces of dishonesty; his eyebrows were raised as she took him in, judging his words, before she let out a sigh and looked away.
"Alright, I believe you. But I'm checking all this with Taylor when you get back."
"Fine by me." John gave Joss a small grin, lowering his hands. "He'll tell you the same thing."
"He better," Joss warned, although the rasp of her voice diminished the threat in her words, or we're gonna have an issue."
"Well, let's hold off on any fights until you're back on your feet."
"You're just scared I'll beat you," Joss replied, moving so that she was once more lying on the mattress; exhaustion was lapping at her like a small wave, and she could feel it about to wash over her. "Hey, John?"
"Yes, Carter?"
Joss turned her head to meet John's gaze, a tiny smile pulling at her lips.
"Don't you have a number to be taking care of?"
Reese shook his head.
"Not today. The machine's been pretty quiet, but it probably won't stay that way for long."
"Well, I wouldn't want to keep the Man in the Suit from doing his job if duty calls."
"Right now my duty, as your friend, is to ask if you need anything," he said, smiling. Joss shook her head, fatigue pressing own on her as she thought.
"I'm alright, John. But thank you."
John nodded, placing the bag next to her bed. The crinkling of plastic rustled as the bag tilted away from the bed, and a can of soup rolled out of the top. It didn't make it far across the room, only moving a few centimetres to stop against John's ebony shoe. He bent down to pick it up, and put it on the bedside table by the lozenges. He gave Joss a small grin, and nodded.
"Alright then. I'll leave you alone. Hope you feel better soon, Carter." John turned to leave, striding to the doorway.
"Thanks, John." Joss looked at the can of soup standing tall on the table, and her stomach let out a rumble which surprised both John and herself. John raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he turned to look back at her.
"You sure you don't need anything?" John's words were filled with amusement, and Joss nearly refused purely to wipe the grin off his face. She was too tired for this. But her stomach growled again, and Joss pushed herself back up, gesturing at the tin with her head.
"Actually, some soup would be great. That is, if you know how to cook it," she said, unable to hold back a smile as John picked up the tin. He made his way back to the door, holding up the soup so it was in Joss's eyeline.
"Just wait, Carter. You're about to have the best soup that three dollars can buy."
Joss let out a weak laugh whilst John carefully closed the door, careful not to let it slam shut behind him. She shook her head as she propped a pillow behind her back, fighting against the tiredness which made her eyes heavy.
She could sleep later. But there was no way in hell she was going to miss John Reese, the Man in the Suit, ex-CIA agent, bringing her soup.
Some things were worth staying awake for.