I don't own Blindspot or any of these amazing characters…

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Jane shifted uncomfortably. Flashbacks to being buried in that coffin made sweat break out on her brow. Even with all her discomfort she was more concerned about Kurt. He'd reluctantly agreed that she would go in alone to copy Shirely's computer hard drive. The access point had been small and he'd realized going with her would just slow them down.

She'd already infiltrated Shirley's office for information when the alarm had been tripped. The plan to separate Madeline from her attorney had gone flawlessly. Shirley was currently on the run, but Madeline was on the warpath.

Her son's had turned on her and if she'd been angry before, she was homicidal now.

Jane had already downloaded the contents of the computer when the siren sounded. She'd barely made it back into the vent before the office door had flown open. She hadn't recognized the first man, but the second person through the door she did know. It was Dwire. He should have been in for life. Madeline had obviously not wasted any time recruiting.

"We need to make sure nothings left," Dwire instructed the other man.

"I've got this," The second man insisted, "This isn't my first job like this."

Jane didn't like the sound of that. When they began to pour the flammable liquid on every surface she knew she was in trouble. No way could she make it through the vents in time. She also couldn't exactly exit the vent either.

"Hurry up," Dwire urged, "You set off the alarm so the police are on the way."

"Hey," The other man protested, "That wasn't my fault. You gave me the wrong security code."

"They must have changed it after the lawyer went AWOL." Dwire dismissed.

"Light it and let's go!"

Jane heard the whoosh as the flame ignited everything in the room. Giving up stealth for haste she began making her way to the nearest vent access that wasn't currently on fire. Kurt was going to be going out of his mind…

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Kurt turned to Reade in concern when the buildings alarm began to sound.

"I thought Patterson was handling that," He worried.

"She disconnected the alarms that Jane would cross," Tasha explained, "Not the entire building."

"So what?" Reade looked at Tasha, "Someone else set off the alarms?"

"Unless Jane is seriously losing her edge," Tasha agreed.

"Let's move," Kurt was already standing, "Jane's been compromised."

Before they could close the distance to the office they noticed an eerie glow that began to spread.

"It's on fire!" Tasha realized in horror.

Kurt felt his breath catch before he broke into a full run. This couldn't be happening…

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Jane kicked out the vent and dropped down into the reception area.

Coughing she stayed low and headed for the window. Taking out her gun she fired two shots before she realized the glass was bulletproof. Closing her eyes she headed toward the front door. It didn't take her very long to realize that was no longer an option. Apparently, Dwire had taken the accelerant all the way to the exit before lighting it.

There was a back door…Jane tried to think, but couldn't remember where it was. Coughing she stumbled in what she thought was the right direction. The smoke surrounding her was making it hard to breathe…hard to think.

She began to crawl, staying as low to the ground as possible. Her only thought at this point was Kurt. She would not leave him by dying this way…

Kurt kicked open the back door with more than a little desperation. Whatever accelerant they had used was very effective. The building was already fully engulfed. He could hear the sirens in the distance, but nothing mattered at this point but getting to his wife. Jane was in there and he wasn't coming out without her.

The smoke billowed past him as he rushed inside. He couldn't see anything.

"Jane!" He roared over the fire.

There was no response.

Tasha had gone to check where Jane entered the building and Reade was in the front. When the dysfunctional sprinklers suddenly came to life Kurt knew that Patterson was working behind the scenes to help them.

"Jane!" He called again moving further into the building.

"Kurt…" A weak voice answered him.

Turning he rushed forward only to all but fall on top of her.

"Jane!" He reached down and pulled her up against him. She was trying to help, but her uncoordinated efforts really pushed home just how close he was to losing her.

Coughing he carried her toward the only exit left. Before he could reach the door he encountered Reade and Tasha already inside.

Reade immediately helped him support Jane as they raced back to the exit.

Once they cleared the building they didn't stop, but moved into the woods at the back of the property.

"Is she okay?" Tasha demanded even as she bent over coughing harshly.

Kurt couldn't answer her. He had no idea if she was going to be okay.

Jane was coughing, her eyes watering as she tried to catch her breath.

"I'm," She coughed some more, "Okay."

She clearly needed oxygen. Reade and Tasha shared a look of concern.

"Take it easy," Kurt urged her when she tried to sit up.

"We need to go," Jane insisted her voice horse.

"Give yourself a minute," Kurt worried, looking down into her precious soot covered face.

"If we're caught," Jane began to cough some more.

"She's right," Tasha insisted, "We need to move."

Kurt reluctantly helped Jane up and he and Reade supported her as they began to head back to where they'd left their vehicle.

Out of the darkness Rich suddenly appeared, "We figured you needed this."

Looking at the oxygen tank he was carrying Kurt's brow furrowed, "Where'd you get that?"

Rich slipped the mask over Jane's face and said without shame, "I stole it from the ambulance."

"You approached the emergency responders?" Tasha demanded, "You know they film those scenes to catch the arsonist?"

"Yeah," Rich confirmed, "I know."

"They're going to think that you burned down the building," Reade worried.

"Yeah," Rich agreed, "If I'm not careful I might get put on the FBI's most wanted list…oh right."

"Rich you could have been caught!" Tasha scowled at him. He needed to take this seriously.

"Jane needed this," Rich said simply, "And I wasn't caught, so relax."

They made it to the van and climbed inside. Reade drove while Kurt held Jane on his lap and soothed back her hair.

Rich watched them with a worried expression.

"Do you know the odds of them burning down this office tonight before we could get a copy of his hard drive?" He asked casually.

"Pretty good apparently," Reade said from the driver seat.

"Actually, pretty remote," Rich denied.

Jane tried to take the mask off her face. Kurt gently put it back on.

So instead she reached into her pocket to produce the portable hard drive which she handed over to Rich.

"You got it?" He asked her in disbelief.

At her nod he broke into a huge grin, "Do you know the odds of you getting this right before they burned down his office?"

"No," Tasha denied, "And we don't care."

"It's Jane," Rich went on as if she hadn't spoken, "She's the random element they never anticipate."

"That's good right?" Reade reminded him.

"Oh," Rich agreed still watching Jane and Kurt, "Very good. Let's hope they continue to underestimate her, it gives us the edge."

Looking down into his wife's weary soot covered face Kurt's arms tightened around her. He knew she was an asset to the team, but she was irreplaceable to him. All he wanted to do was protect her from everything he knew was coming.

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Jane stood under the shower and let the water pour over her. Her chest burned from the smoke and her throat was raw. She wanted to get the smell of smoke off her, but soaping up seemed like too much effort.

Then Kurt was there.

"Let me help you," He pulled her back to rest against him. She watched his hands as he wet a wash cloth and began to leather it up.

He reached for her arm as she watched him scrub at the soot until it was gone before moving over to her other arm.

Once he was done he brought the cloth up her neck and over her face. She closed her eyes at his tender administrations. He was careful with her and he took the time to clean behind her ears before he rinsed out the cloth and laid it down. He then reached for the shampoo. Suds, rinse. Suds again, rinse. He then applied a liberal amount of conditioner before he reached again for the soap. Her body was next and she watched him as he knelt before her. Reaching out she ran a hand over his head gently. He always took such good care of her…

He looked back up at her with a smile.

"Almost done," He assured her. "Then you can get some rest."

"I'm sorry you were worried," She said hoarsely.

"You shouldn't have gone in alone," Kurt dismissed her concern, "That's on me."

"No," Jane denied stopping him and turning his face toward her. "It's not anyone's fault. It was Dwire."

"Dwire?" Kurt stopped what he was doing before continuing. "That's not good."

"No," Jane agreed, "Madeline's been recruiting."

"Was he alone?" Kurt asked her.

"No," She denied, "But I didn't recognize the man with him."

"Rinse out your hair," He urged her running the cloth over his own skin with more force and little care.

She did as he requested and then reached for the cloth.

"I've got this," Kurt leaned in to kiss her, "Do you need help drying off?"

"I'm fine," Jane insisted resting her forehead against his.

Kurt watched her as she left the stall before quickly finishing up himself.

It had been dangerous when they were FBI Agents, but they'd had the state of the art resources and plenty of backup. Now… it was so much more dangerous. Thinking back to all that Jane had already been through, he was struck anew with just how amazing she was. She'd lived this life before and she still was the most empathetic and sensitive person he knew. Full of strength and determination, but grounded in the choice to do what was right. He didn't know how she did that. All of them, the entire team had undergone various stages in transformation as a result of being on the run, but Jane she remained constant. She didn't rage about their circumstances, or bemoan their fate. She just did what had to be done without complaint.

When he turned off the water and opened the door, Jane reached over to hand him his towel. He took it as he watched her towel dry her hair. He loved every part of her, but it wasn't until this happened that he understood just how truly remarkable she was. He just hoped that one day she had the life she deserved.

Jane was trying to be quick, but everything was a momentous effort. Looking into the mirror she saw Kurt drying off and shot him a quick little grin. She never got tired of that sight.

Wrapping her hair up, she turned to face him.

"Meet you on the bed?" She suggested.

"To sleep," He agreed.

At her look of disappointment it was his turn to grin.

"Bet I can change your mind," She said over her shoulder as she walked away. Seeing the gentle sway of her hips and the teasing in her eyes he forgot what he was doing.

He knew she could…but was determined to take care of her. He dried off quickly. Following after her he stopped in the doorway. She was lying sprawled across the bed, asleep.

With a tender look he turned off the lights and moved over to join her. She grumbled when he shifted her over and pulled back the covers but sighed when he pulled her against his chest.

He held her a long time before following her into sleep. Her occasional cough reminding him not to waste a moment of their time together.

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"Did you get it done?" Madeline demanded.

"Just as you requested," Dwire assured her.

"And you weren't seen?" Madeline continued.

"I know my job," Dwire said impatiently.

Madeline's jaw tightened at his snapping reply.

She turned on the television to the news. It didn't take long before the story came on. She was about to turn it off when the camera swept the scene. She recognized him immediately, even with his change in appearance. Grabbing the remote she rewound the feed. Pausing the screen she studied him. He was carrying an oxygen tank. There was only one reason for him to be doing that.

"Who's that?" Dwire asked her in confusion.

"Nobody," Madeline denied as she moved over to her desk.

"You can see there's not going to be anything left," Dwire said with confidence.

Expecting to be paid, his eyes widened when instead she pulled a gun out of the drawer. He died with the surprise look still on his face.

Stepping around his body Madeline moved back over to the tv screen.

Rich Dot Com carrying an oxygen tank, she knew what that meant. Dwire had failed.

Turning away from the screen she knocked the contents of the shelf off onto the floor.

She'd known that this FBI team was formidable, but she had underestimated them. The drone attack should have killed them, but it hadn't. They should have run when they hit the FBI's most wanted list, but they hadn't. It was almost like they didn't have an ounce of self-preservation in them. They didn't react like anyone she'd ever gone up against and that made them dangerous.

Now they had information from Shirely's office.

Who knew what kind of sensitive information he might have had there? After his mistake that alerted her son's to the possibility that their father had been murdered, she couldn't trust anyone. Her husband hadn't realized what she was capable of, but to her surprise her son's seemed to believe what they heard was possible. They must have gotten her intelligence. Unfortunately, that meant that she had to make sure they couldn't prove what they accused her of.

She'd ordered her husband's body be removed from the cemetery and cremated. She knew her son's would be angry, but without proof she would be safe. She should have done that all along, but she hadn't wanted any suspicions. It had been a mistake she would rectify today.

The phone on her desk rang and she turned back to be confronted by Dwire's body. She needed to get him removed and she knew just who to call. The current Director of the FBI shouldn't have too much trouble getting rid of a body. Dwire was a felon after all.

Seeing the caller ID she picked up the phone and asked, "Did you get it done?"

"No," The voice on the other end of the phone admitted.

"What?" She wasn't amused, "Why not?"

When he hesitated she had her first feeling of unease.

"Somebody stole it," Was reluctantly relayed.

"How would they even know where he was buried?" She demanded.

"They must have hacked our records."

"Which grave was disturbed?" She asked tensely. One would be devastating, the other catastrophic.

She thought herself so clever for burying her husband's underhanded dealings in the space meant for his body, but now she wasn't so sure.

"Well?" She demanded at his continued silence.

"Both," He told her.

She slammed down the phone and her mind raced. This was serious. For the first time she realized that it wasn't the FBI she had to destroy, it was this team. The game was almost over and she wouldn't lose. She didn't care what she had to do…