The call comes while she's at the NYO, thinking about Weller instead of listening to Patterson explain some intricate code. The news is not unexpected yet Jane still shakes her head and sighs with affectionate irritation while saying that she is on her way to deal with the issue.

The rest of the team is looking at her when she hangs up the call and Jane rolls her eyes at them, can't help but laugh a little. They all clearly already know what it's about before she says a word, each expressing their personal opinion.

"What is he thinking?"

"It's been what, like a day?"

"He's such an idiot."

Jane bites back another smile, agrees with all of them.

"I've got this," she says, though she doesn't feel as confident as she sounds.

Jane takes one of the SUVs and speeds to the hospital, selfishly pleased that Nas is out of town, that this task has fallen to her. It's not like her to be so fixated on her own desires, but she relishes in this opportunity to be there for Kurt. She's missed him so much, the idea of rebuilding some of that closeness they once had fills her with nervous excitement. Even if it's only because he's hurt, which is entirely her fault - no matter what he keeps telling her.

Jane gets to the hospital and parks illegally, hurries in. Weller may be somewhat incapacitated but he's still highly competent, stubborn as hell. She just hopes he hasn't been too much of a nuisance for the nurses while they delayed his escape.

She gets up to the floor his room is on and sees that he's at the nursing station, trying to sign paperwork with a right hand that's in a cast. It's clear he's frustrated with the process, growling about medical red tape while trying and failing to grip the pen well enough to write.

"Weller, where do you think you're going?" Jane asks, approaching from behind.

Kurt snaps his head up in surprise, turns and groans. But at least he has the decency to look chagrinned, caught in the act.

"They called you," he grumbles, stating the obvious.

"Yeah, I bribed them with baked goods and espresso," she admits. "I knew it would be worth it."

Weller shakes his head at her and sighs.

"Well, I'm still going home," he says.

Jane snatches the pen out of his hand, replaces it with her fingers before he has a chance to react.

"Weller, be reasonable," she replies. "Your apartment building is still being restored from the fire, there's too much smoke damage for you to stay there. You have a wound that needs checking and re-bandaging daily. How are you going to make sure it doesn't get infected when your other hand is broken and there's no one around to take care of you?"

The nurses are all watching the interaction with interest, clearly wondering if she can win a duel of stubbornness with Kurt. They had all learned first hand his resistance to hospital care, how grumpy he was to need help.

"I'll manage," he growls, rolling his eyes.

"You'll manage to what? Compromise your health further?" she asks sarcastically.

"I'm not staying here, Jane," he states in a tone that says he's not going to discuss the point any further.

It's an inroad though, gives her something to work with.

"Okay," she agrees. "But your place is uninhabitable. So where are you going to go?"

Weller looks at her, clearly frustrated but thinking about her question. Which was a step in the right direction. At least he had stopped arguing about living in his smoke-damaged apartment.

"I guess I could use a safe house," he replies after a long moment. "Seeing how me being homeless is case-related."

"You should have a detail too," Jane says. Even though the Roman problem seems to have gone away for the moment, she can't help but be worried about Weller while he's unable to protect himself. "And someone from medical services to come by and check on your wounds."

Kurt groans, shakes his head.

"Waste of resources," he states.

"You need someone to look out for you while you're recovering, Kurt," Jane argues. "And don't tell me you can protect yourself. You have one hand in a cast and the other arm in a sling."

Weller grunts, clearly irritated at being presented with facts that can't be denied.

"I don't need to be looked after," he mutters.

Jane rolls her eyes, sees that they're at an impasse. Now that she's actually dealing with Weller's obstinance she feels some regret at having taken on the task. At least if Nas was around she would be the one awkwardly thrust into the position of caring for Kurt. Not that Jane could picture the NSA agent being a very comforting caregiver. And anyways, she had put herself in the position to look after him, had to figure out a way around his attitude.

It's at that moment the idea forms in her head, from a place of pure logical reasoning and nothing else. Or so Jane tells herself. The question is whether she's brave enough to present it to him.

She looks at Weller, currently wearing his grouchiest expression. He's not going to see this one coming, she thinks to herself.

"You should come stay with me," Jane says, before she can chicken out.

That changes the set of Weller's face for a moment; she sees a flash of surprise, an instant of consideration. But then he frowns again, shakes his head.

"I can't do that," he declares, predictably.

"Why not?" she asks, genuinely wondering what he's going to say.

"Because it's your place, Jane," he replies. "And you're an FBI asset and I'm an AD and the lead agent on the case. It's not appropriate."

"Because you're going to take advantage of me?" Jane asks, the words somehow slipping out before she manages to screen them mentally.

Weller looks absolutely flustered, she even sees a hint of a blush.

"No, of course not," he stammers. "I would never…"

She lets him flounder for a bit, bites down hard on a grin. As if she thought Kurt Weller would make a move on her, that he would ever try anything close to inappropriate.

"Then what's the problem?" she asks, innocently. "You need a place to stay, there is more than enough space at my safe house. You have someone to help you with the wound on your back, and we're using fewer resources."

"No, Jane," he says, clearly not having even thought about it.

"Give me a good reason why not," she replies.

"It would look bad," he grumbles.

"That is not a good reason," she states.

Weller grunts his disagreement. Impasse number two, Jane thinks.

"Look Kurt," she says. "If you had a home to go to and somewhere there to watch out for you then I wouldn't even be here. But you don't and we both know I'm not going to let you be on your own when you clearly need help. Even if you are in charge."

Jane gives him a defiant look; one he's seen many times before. He must realize what it means because he exhales irritably, scowls at her.

"I'm offering you a way out of your hospital bed. And it's just until you have use of at least one of your arms. So no one's going to think you did anything inappropriate."

She swears he blushes again, knows that she's turned him around. Now it's just a matter of giving him a graceful way into the decision that's already been made.

"So are you coming with me or not?" she asks. "Because I'm parked illegally and my boss wouldn't like me abusing FBI power just to continue this pointless argument."

Weller manages to hide his laugh but he can't stop his eyes from twinkling in amusement.

"Yeah, you definitely wouldn't want to disobey your boss," he replies sardonically.

Jane quirks a smile at his comeback, flashes him a wink.

"So tell me, boss," she says. "Where am I driving you to?"

Kurt tilts his head at her, gives her a resigned laugh.

"To your safe house," he sighs. "Just for now."

Jane feels a smile spread across her face, turns back to the watching nurses and flashes them a thumbs up. Her grin then grows as she watches Weller try to maintain a frown, fail miserably at it.

She doesn't stop to worry about things being awkward, about how he was barely talking to her just a few days ago and now she's told him to move in. Because it's Weller and someone needs to look after him while he's injured. And somehow, to her shock and glee, she's managed to put herself in that role. So Jane isn't going to question it, let any anxieties take root.

She holds her hand out to him, as if to shake on the deal. He offers her his broken right hand, using his fingertips to tug at hers. Then he grips her hand tightly with his fingers and she can feel the emotion in his action, something deep and vulnerable, something so very Kurt.

"Thank you," he says, all resistance gone. "You really don't have to do this."

Oh Kurt, she thinks. You don't know how much I do.