Things had been quiet since the first case John worked. Joss missed seeing John everyday but she needed to start giving him more space, especially since she had someone else helping keep tabs on him. But it seemed John had other ideas because she nearly shot him when she thought an intruder was breaking into her place and it was him instead. And the damn man had the gall to blame her, saying she offered him to talk when he felt restless. Which was true, but she meant for him to call first, not just let himself in, but she couldn't change John. John was unorthodox in everything he did and she supposed that included taking up offers of help.

He rarely used the front door, mostly hid in the shadows, and for the majority of the times she found him there, he'd be there before she got home. In fact she was actually getting used to heading to her place and finding him there. Like the other night, she had a bad day at work and it seemed as if he knew because when she got home with her son, they found a hot meal already prepared for them with John putting his suit blazer back on to leave. He even took out her garbage for her; she didn't examine how he knew what day was her garbage pickup day. Seemed like John was doing his own investigating, but no matter how hard she tried to have him stay to eat the meal he made, he wouldn't. He claimed the dinner was a family one, for her and her son which didn't include him. That didn't sit well with her but it sat even worse in her boy because her son turned on the charm, used trickery, everything to try to get the hardened soldier to stay and eat but it didn't work. John gently refused citing he had business to go back to and he was gone in a flash. Though she wasn't entirely sure he didn't have work to do. Knowing how this worked, she was sure the numbers never stopped coming. But come hell or high water she was going to cook him a meal and he was going to eat with them if she had to force it down his god damn throat!

Then a couple days ago John and Finch worked a Theresa Whitaker's number and she was summoned to pick the girl up. She'd known exactly which girl it was immediately when she saw the suit coat Jorge picked out for John on the girl's shoulders. Joss couldn't help but feel John's eyes on her from out there somewhere as she strode over to the girl. She could feel the heady sensation of being watched but it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, rather it was welcoming and she felt oddly feminine under it. Which was ridiculous since she wasn't even sure if what she was feeling was his eyes on her or not, but she hoped it was. Again, she needed a man and not just any man, a man that wanted nothing but no strings attached meaningless sex. She had too much on her plate for a relationship: she was a single mother, a homicide detective, helped Finch and John with their thing, and then there was the man himself. John. And not one single man on this planet would understand her complex relationship with him, hell, she didn't even understand it.

But all thought about her strange, multifaceted, and slightly complicated relationship with John had taken a backseat as she approached the poor girl because she looked like a hundred years old instead of being just a teenager. All innocence was gone, snatched from her unjustly. She lived through a terrible ordeal with nearly being killed by a hired gunman, witnessed her entire family get murdered and spared because she was a child and a girl, but forced to live in hiding. Living in utter fear that one wrong step and she would end up like her family, dead, and that was such a horrific way for a child to live. For anyone really, and Joss didn't get to see that many happy endings in her line of work but she got to see one when Theresa was reunited with her aunt. It had been a good day and that was because of John and Harold.

Today, however, was not a good day. Because she nearly dropped her coffee and food as she entered the bullpen when she saw John's big lanky body on a screen that a detective was watching. She had seen about the bank heist on the news last night! He was there and failed to mention it when he called.

She deposited her coffee, her bag of breakfast, and keys on her desk and hurried over to the detective she never met before. "Working the bank heist huh?"

The detective looked up. "Yea, Detective Molina," he greeted, holding his hand out which she took.

"Carter," she responded.

"Heard of you."

She bet he had and most likely the things this detective heard about Detective Joss Carter weren't all that favorable. She didn't get to where she was at by making friends in the field. Most didn't like women invading a predominantly male profession and do it better than them. But she wasn't here to stroke their egos or to make their penises feel bigger than they were. She wanted to be a cop, a detective, and a damn good one. It was something she always wanted. So she had put the time and effort to rise up to where she was in such a short time it wasn't her fault that she showed them up in the process. Maybe they should be better then.

Joss nodded to the tape. "So what do you have, maybe I can help?" she offered.

"Well, as of right now I'm waiting for Jenkins to finish the fingerprints down in the lab but I was just starting to take a look at the security footage. Look at this guy, saving the security guard from getting his head blown off. No doubt that guy saved his life," Molina said, nodding to the man who she knew was John, without a shadow of a doubt, without needing to see his pretty face. Her eyes drifted involuntarily onto his butt.

She immediately turned her gaze away from John forcefully. "I'm kind of slow right now, so if you need any help let me know," she offered. Joss needed to call Finch because she knew just how thorough of a job the CSU did on bank heists. They were going to dust for fingerprints on everything and anything including that damn security guard's holster which would not be good for John.

Molina nodded in answer and she walked to her desk where she tugged her cell phone out and immediately clicked Finch's unknown number. It didn't take him long to answer. "We have a problem with our mutual friend, Finch. I guess your new number is a criminal because there is a detective with a bank heist's footage with John on it!" she said lowly and irritably without greeting.

Finch sighed. "Yes, it caught Mr. Reese and I quite unaware, as far as we were concerned Mr. Durban had been uncharacteristically boring up til that moment."

"Yea, well, John stopped a security guard from being killed but he also touched the damn holster. The cops and CSU don't play around with robberies like this, they dust for prints on everything which means John's prints will be found. The moment they run those prints they'll match John's in the system, but with this the CIA most definitely will get wind that John is out there still alive," Joss said, worriedly eyeballing the detective.

"I suspected that the CIA would eventually become an obstacle we must hurdle. Is there any way to buy Mr. Reese more time?"

She frowned. "No, not that I know of, the moment they run those prints on that holster and Molina gets a hold of them he'll put a BOLO out for John, and then there is no way to prevent the CIA from learning of the fact that John isn't dead," and then suddenly an idea struck. "Wait, maybe I do have an idea. I have to go, Finch." Joss hung up without waiting a beat as she got up from her desk and hurried over to the detective.

"I'm heading down to go drop off some evidence for Jenkins, while I'm down there you want me to pick up your fingerprints for you?"

"Yea, that would help," Molina said and then smiled. "Thanks Carter."

She smiled in return. "Don't mention it," she assured him as she walked away. She waited until he was distracted and grabbed the bag of food she brought it, sighing wistfully at it as she was going to have to use it as a bribe with Robby Jenkins. Damn she was hungry too. She immediately headed down the stairs to the lower floor where Robby's office was. "Knock, Knock," she called as she lightly tapped on the door, seeing Robby hard at work at his computer. He looked up and she smiled before holding out a bag of takeout. "Hey Robby, thought you could use some grub."

"Hey Carter, what do you need?" he said with a smirk at the bag.

"What, can't a friend visit a friend?" she questioned teasingly and he cocked a brow as she held out the bag and he greedily took it and then opened it.

"Not when there is food involved."

She smiled as she sat on the edge of his desk. "Alright, you caught me. I'm helping with the investigation of the Bayridge bank heist and I was kind of hoping you had them all done so we can get to work on this." Joss nearly cried as her sandwich was bitten into. Her stomach growled, thankfully he didn't seem to hear it. John owed her breakfast in the very near future!

"I'm actually nearly complete. I ran all the prints of the tellers, customers, and I'm about to run the prints on the security guard's holster. So far I haven't found anything to help. And since you got me food I'll run the prints more quickly now just for you," he said with a wink and she grinned.

"Who knew a sausage, egg, and cheese croissant could get this sort of service!" she teased readily.

He laughed as he worked. The screen lit up with a hit. "Irving Weber, age sixty-four, security guard to Bayridge Bank. But there was another set of fingerprints on the holster, and that one is the last of them." Robby said in between bites and Joss watched in dismay as the screen lit up after he ran John's fingerprints. "Wow, wow, wow, whoever this guy is he has open warrants for homicides in 44 different countries. Who is this guy, the angel of death?"

"He might be something else entirely," she said as she swallowed hard while he printed out not only the security guard's fingerprints but also John's, placing it into a large file with dozens of other printouts. She tracked where he put John's which was on the very top before he closed the manila folder. "Thanks again, Robby, this will help Molina and I," she said as he handed her the file.

Robby smiled. "No need to thank me Carter, not when you brought me food," he joked.

"I'll have to remember that the next time I need a favor,"she murmured as she carried the file. When she exited the room, hurrying towards the steps to head up to the main level of the precinct, she looked around making sure no one was watching and tugged John's printout out of the file, folded up the packet of papers and slid it inside her suit blazer and then headed upstairs.

She walked purposely into the bullpen and found Molina still looking at the bank's security footage and she stood beside him. "Here, these are the prints from the bank heist. It appears everyone inside the bank is squeaky clean although I just perused the top prints, maybe you'll get luckier as you go through the file."

"Damn, I was hoping there was a plant with a record that would give me a thread on these guys. There has been a string of these robberies and I can't make heads or tails on this case." he admitted as he eyed the large file of prints. But her eyes were on the screen eyeing the way the men were moving and working.

"I might have your thread, look." she pointed as she snatched the remote out of his hands and rewound the tape. "Look at the way they're moving," and then she paused the footage with a fuzzy screen of the radio hooked on one of the robber's pants. "Yea, I'm pretty sure that's a mil-spec radio. They're soldiers."

Molina looked at her. "Care if I pick your brain for a few moments?"

She smiled. "I'd be insulted if you didn't."

She called John for a meeting at Lyric Diner. It was exactly one day after he finished the Durban case, after she helped Molina nearly catch him with the band of soldiers that were breaking into those banks. It had been so close and there was no way she could protect John from it, but somehow Finch must have given John a heads up. And it was also just one day after he nearly died at their hands in some shootout after he stole some files for a cold case with the name M. Elias right out of the evidence locker (which she was going to look into), but saved himself and Joey.

They needed to seriously talk and thankfully the Lyric Diner was kind of dead because it was during the morning lull. There weren't any customers but her and the waitress already had dropped her and John's coffee off. She impatiently tapped her fingertips on the tabletop waiting for John to arrive.

He appeared out of nowhere again, seemingly enjoying popping out of nowhere and scaring her shitless. "Your coffee is getting cold, detective," he purred, making her jump as he appeared by her side and sat down across from her.

She leaned back and eyed him. "Maybe you shouldn't keep me waiting for you then."

He smiled softly. "You arrived early," he pointed out with a glance at his wrist watch. "As I see it, I'm a minute early."

She shrugged. "I had the jitters, so I get anxious, so I leave earlier, and get to places earlier than necessary," she admitted. "But you're trying to sidetrack me. We need to talk."

"About?"

"About you being more careful," she supplied and he eyed her perplexed. "Sooner or later the NYPD are going to get wind of this man in the suit that is being rumored to be around town. Your first case, Diane Hanson, one of the dirty cops said a guy in a suit appeared out of nowhere. Right now there is nothing concrete about you, but eventually they'll try to hunt you down. And that's the same with the CIA and FBI. I'm trying my best to make sure your prints don't end up going to CSU and Robby for fingerprint analysis but I can't keep that from happening every time. I just can't be at the precinct a hundred percent of the time when you work a number," she said softly.

"I know."

"So try helping me by being more careful. Wear gloves if you have to, John." At least then his fingerprints wouldn't be everywhere and it would take the CIA a much longer time to learn of his living status.

"Why is it so important to you to protect me from the CIA? My past will have its way of catching up to me, I can't escape the things I have done, Carter," he said quietly. "No matter how hard I try I can never wash away the blood that has stained my hands,"he whispered as his eyes dropped to his hands resting on the table's linoleum-top.

"That's not who you are anymore, John."

He lifted his gaze onto hers. "You don't know that."

"Yes I do," she countered.

"You can't because I don't even know that. I killed Stills," he whispered.

"Because you had to," she argued. She wasn't going to let him twist this into some self-loathsome speech. She called him here to tell him to be more careful, not to hear him poke more wounds into himself. He was so good at self-inflicted wounds and she wasn't going to let it happen.

"Are you sure? I could have just said that because I didn't want to lose you."

"YES." she stated forcefully. She leaned forward. "I know that to be the truth because you wouldn't lie to me about something like that. But more than that, you wouldn't have killed him if there was another way," she said, believing in him and in his word.

John looked at her. "There are reasons why the CIA came knocking on my door, Joss, because I was good at following orders and I became a damned good killer for them. I've killed many people, Joss. Good, bad, it didn't matter. Orders were orders, as there must have been a reason why they were to be eliminated so I never questioned it. Not for a long time anyway. Some begged for their lives, some didn't, and others had no idea what was about to happen to them, because as the years went on I found a way to make their deaths as painless and quick as possible, so there was no suffering. Kara never cared for that, she preferred their deaths to be agonizing and slow," he whispered thickly as he turned to look out the window.

Joss eyed his eyes, seeing the wateriness to them. She reached out, touching his chilled hand. "You might have been a killer but you're not anymore. If you were, you wouldn't ever have come to my rescue that night I needed you when you were so close to ending it. You wouldn't be here helping save people's lives right now if you were just a killer. Life isn't black and white, John, there is a lot of options and you chose a different path when it was offered to you."

"Paths are funny, Carter, one way or another we all get where we were supposed to end up anyway," he murmured as he looked at her.

Her back stiffened. "Go ahead, throw your pity party, but make it for one because I'm not in the mood to listen to this. You can pay for my coffee too as you still owe me breakfast," she muttered as she climbed to her feet. She leaned over so she could whisper in his ear. "But go ahead and try to stay on that path, John, but don't blame me for trying to detour you for good. It's only fair since you saved my life," she whispered and with that she straightened, turned, and exited the diner.

AN: I wanted to make sure I got some lines of dialogue from the show into this, especially moments that shaped Careese. I always loved his 'your coffee is getting cold, detective' in Legacy which suggested he had been quietly watching her before making his way over to the apple of his eye ;D Next chapter has some moments that I won't say because it's better to be surprised, right?!

Thanks for reading XOXOXOXOX