A/N: And the tides turn again...

As always, enjoy.


Saturday 21st November, 1.56am, Joss' apartment

Joss crept up the stairs barefoot in a white plunge midi dress in the early hours of Saturday morning, home from more shenanigans with Shaw. The lamp was on on his side of the bed providing the only light in the room. She pulled her phone apart and put in on the dresser, not surprised he was in her bed again.

"Where've you been?" He asked, thinking he'd never seen her in that dress before.

"Out." She took out her earrings. "Didn't think I'd see you tonight."

"Our guy's in jail for the weekend, the apartment's pretty cold so," She unzipped her dress at the side and stepped out of it. Again, she wasn't matching. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She wasn't going to tell him she and Shaw got dolled up to seduce Mark Johansen at The Suede Lounge uptown, injected him with a tranquilizer in a hotel room, swabbed his mouth and took a hair sample from the centre of his head, all in the name of protecting him. "Just tired." She threw her underwear in a hamper and slipped under the covers with him. "Too tired."

His body was much warmer than hers, and that became more evident when she laid her cold skin on top of him and buried her face in his chest. The subtle stroking of his fingers rubbing her neck was a comfort after the week she had, moving pieces on the chess board to achieve the desired outcome. She wondered if she was losing her moral compass, and if she was capable of drawing lines anymore. Her conflict was showing on her face, in the frown lines in the forehead and the tension in her cheeks, and he was worried about her.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me." He tried to reassure her.

"I can't."

"Sure you can." His breath was warm too, it brushed against her ear.

"You can't know what you don't know." She repeated something Naomi once told her about deniability in Law School.

And it hit him, she meant what she said about protecting him and this was the cost; he was in the dark and she was sleeping with a murderer. He thought she deserved better and doubt kicked in again, working its way into his thoughts; that she had already done enough for him. "You have a life, a whole life, to go back to anytime you want."

Usually she'd be offended about him giving her an out as though she would consider taking it. But she was so exhausted and emotionally sent, all she could feel was compassion for him. "You have a life too, John." She said sleepily, he was always good at putting her to sleep.

"A life in the shadows." He reminded her, remembering how he envied Cal for taking her out in public.

"Not with me."

2.02am, Paul's House, Elmhurst

Taylor never had to think about his curfew at his dad's house because it didn't exist. He killed time at C.J.'s umpteenth "Guess who's out of town?" party and noticed girls who usually ignored him now knew his name because he was with someone. The TV was on was the DVD menu for Soul Food Season 2 was laying on a loop because Monique was lying on the couch with crust around her eyes. He knew she'd been crying because her face was puffy and wondered if this is what his Mom meant about being kind to her instead of nice. She didn't look pregnant yet but her emotions gave her away.

"Taylor." She was embarrassed he'd seen her that way and tried to play it off through her congested voice. "Damon and Teri and that crazy tennis player get me every time."

He nodded along, not believing a word because he knew better; his grandma called it 'misty' and his mom blamed the onions. "You want some water?"

"Sure."

9.23am, Joss' apartment

John had been called many names in his life; orphan, rabble-rouser, delinquent, grunt, idiot. The latter was the only one he found offensive because he wasn't at all stupid even though the closest he'd ever been to college was the few night classes he took at University of Washington when he was still fooling himself he had left the Army for good in late 2000. Just because Joss spent seven years in college, it didn't stop her from leaving a faint trail of crumbs for him to find out what she was up to. While she was in the shower, he read through the newspapers she had delivered to the house and started to see a pattern; no doubt an effect of working with Finch for so long.

There was no news of Cruz Valverde's murder anywhere, the only place she was acknowledged was on a graffiti mural in Queens and an obscure social media forum he'd never heard of. That wasn't all; there had been less numbers than week and the week before, as though things were calming down. Even the shootings in Brighton Beach had died down, except for the occasional domestic dispute. He wasn't stupid enough to believe in a gang truce, but knew who could force a new regime and restore order so quickly and it hurt to think that person was in cahoots with the one he trusted most. So he waited, as she took her extended Saturday shower which he wasn't allowed to join because she boldly refused to get her hair wet and he still didn't know why it was such a big deal.

There was enough coffee for two when she appeared looking like a college student with a tank and jeggings on and a long, plaid shirt from Taylor's hipster phase around her waist. Her mind was too busy for sex earlier and all she wanted was a tall coffee with cream to get her day started. He turned on the digital radio, some incoherent sounds came out and the DJ said it was Waka Flocka Flame. John tuned it to a classic rock station and Black Dog was playing.

"How long have you been working with Elias?" He asked.

She blinked and shifted in her seat. "I saw him two weeks ago."

The cogs were turning; he went off the grid two weeks ago, shot Cruz two weeks ago, and she promised to not to let anything happen to him two weeks ago. "How could you get involved with him, again?"

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "How could I? How could I not? What choice did you give me? Or give us?"

"I was doing my job."

"No. You were doing John. 'Cause John dips out on the Team and hunts down a number without all the facts. And John cuts off contact with everyone who's got his back. And when everyone but John knows Elias put a hit out on Cruz, John-" She took a deep breath because she could say it out loud: John put a bullet in her brain before they had a chance to stop it. "So now you expect me to let you go to jail, except you won't go to jail; the CIA will take you and hide you in the deepest, darkest hole they've got. And you're mad at me, for what?"