Author's Note: Sorry for the slow update, guys. I've been scary busy.

This is a somewhat spoilery oneshot. It's an add on to last night's episode 7. (I see two other ones floating around to do with The Epic Calling of Mr. Carpenter in Her Time of Need. Both lovely and I adore them. You all know the one. If you don't, well... reading this oneshot won't shock or spoil you too badly.)

Also, the ending is meant to be somewhat ambiguous.

"Hey. Thanks for showing up last night."

Carpenter looked up, not all that surprised to see Juliet standing in front of his desk when lunch hour came. "Sure," he replied, rising from his seat and moving around to stand beside her. He made a valiant effort to disguise his relief to an acceptable level. That had been a drive he didn't care to repeat anytime soon; heart in his throat, about a million questions circulating in his mind. "You and your friend are both okay?"

They both knew which person he was really asking about.

Juliet nodded, unnaturally tacit. "Yeah, we're good. Monica is grounded probably forever, and I'm not far behind I guess." She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "Sorry about my dad yelling at you."

Carpenter shook his head, understanding the man's abrasiveness with him the previous night. "It was no problem. He was worried about you. Are you two doing okay?" he asked then, a note of concern in his voice. Juliet had explained the situation to him when he'd first arrived at the accident scene, and she'd been terrified of what her father's reaction would be. She had begged Carpenter not to call the elder Martin, and it had killed him a little to do it.

Juliet averted her eyes, hesitating. "He took away my trust fund," she admitted.

Carpenter winced. "Yikes," he murmured.

Juliet was grateful for the sympathy in his voice and pounced on it. "Tell me about it," she muttered.

Carpenter mulled it over. "Well," he began, "on the bright side, you still never need to worry about clothes, food, shelter, or all the basic amenities, unlike the rest of us." His eyes were gently teasing. He had to remind her that she was alive and unharmed—it was in this way that she was very much like her father. Seizing on the material, the trivial, when a veritable miracle had occurred where her life was concerned. That was fine; he had enough perspective to go around.

She scowled at him though. "So you're on his side?"

He held up his hands. "I didn't say that." At Juliet's continued silence, he moved to explain. "Listen… I don't know what the situation was like before yesterday. But I know you were looking for a fresh start—that tells me there were mistakes on both ends. It also tells me you're really trying. Last night was just a sad case of horrible timing, but you were helping a friend out. Your intentions were honorable, and he just needs time I think to realize you're making a real effort not to let him down. More importantly, you're safe." Juliet's edged features softened at his heartfelt words. "Next time, though… I think you should call him first. He needs to know you trust him too. It means a lot that you called me, but in the future, I have to do my best not to get in the middle of you two. And out of respect for your dad… it's not really my business."

Juliet's face fell. Her eyes rounded pitifully, and she ducked her head.

Carpenter rushed to assure her, hating to see that look of rejection on her face. "Hey," he said softly, waiting until she would meet his eyes. When she did, he promised her, "I'm on your side. Always. When you call, if you need me, I'm there. No matter what." He shook his head. "But that doesn't mean I'm against your dad."

She would always be priority one, but that didn't mean he hadn't seen the sadness in her father's eyes when he'd told Andrew that Juliet had been the one to call him. Carpenter had frustrations with the man and his handling of his daughter, but even he could see that Andrew Martin was trying. The man was simply at the end of his rope, and clearly there were other factors to consider, distractions in his life that did not accommodate his only child.

After awhile, Juliet nodded.

"Is that all right?"

She nodded again, relieved. "Yeah."

His lips curled into a small smile. "Okay."

She sighed; a gesture to expel the stress still weighing heavily on her shoulders. "Sorry. For, you know… putting you on the spot like that."

He shrugged it off. "I've been put on the spot, trust me. This was small potatoes in comparison."

Juliet's face scrunched up in amusement. "Small potatoes?"

His expression was blank, but it was the glint of light in his eyes that told her everything she needed to know. "What, you don't like that analogy?"

"Yeah, if you're seventy-five," teased Juliet.

Carpenter feigned offense, a hand reaching up to clutch at the space over his heart.

Juliet laughed, eyeing him closely. "So… you've been put on the spot before?"

He grinned. "Now you're just prying. That's not very polite."

"I'm a teenage girl. Not really our best quality."

He laughed and straightened up from his desk, nudging her at the door. "Yeah, yeah. Don't be late for O'Malley."

"You really need to stop losing to her at poker."

"I was thinking I really need to stop playing the woman altogether," he replied to her retreating back.

Juliet shot him a final look before disappearing out the door. "Good idea. Because either she's really badass, or you just suck at cards."

Carpenter smirked, getting back to his paperwork once she was gone.

His poker face was impenetrable. It was all a matter of choosing where to use it.