Joss treasured independence. It had been her companion for years. But the past few weeks that love for independence was completely kicked out the door. After the beating she took, team machine was ready to go crazy on her attackers. Shaw had to be talked down more than once, Fusco was tempted to plant evidence to further incriminate the men. Even Harold verbalized his anger, stating his doubts with their lives being spared.

Unable to execute revenge they preoccupied themselves with utterly spoiling her. Finch stopped by daily with glamorous arrangements of daises. He stayed at least an hour to talk about current events. It birthed a new friendship that Joss was starting to love. When Shaw dropped by Joss had to endure an impromptu check-up. Then they would kick back and, in their own way, have girl-talk. John left them alone. The softer side of his co-worker was a little unnerving. Of course Fusco gave her the updates on work and brought her greasy fatty foods she probably didn't need. Taylor was attentive, patient, and as loving to her as she had been to him on his sick days as a child.

Joss's only complaint, was also where her greatest appreciation lied. Her husband. While everyone else tried to get her mind off the events that got her in this state, John's heavy mood darkened what would be a completely enjoyable time for Joss. Loaded with guilt he continued to beat himself up over what had happened. What he felt should have never taken place if he was a good husband. Every time he looked at her bruised face, in spite of how it was recovering, or watched her hiss in pain when she disturbed her sensitive ribs, a fresh wave of guilt would hit. Condemning him again and again.

Joss let him sulk for a day or two. Then when the "visiting hours" started, she attempted to draw him from his misery by involving him in their conversations. But usually he left the room before she had a good chance to make him talk.

Harold stood from the seat that remained near their bed awaiting his daily visits. He started to slip into his jacket, just as John returned with a full glass of iced tea. He walked to the opposing side of the bed placing it on the night stand. With a light hand Joss's fingers brushed the daisies. "Thanks again for the flowers Finch."

"You're very welcome Joss. I'm glad you're feeling better."

"How can I not with you always checking up on me?" She lowered her hand. "Besides, this one over here," she pointed at John while hiding her finger behind her free hand knowing John could still see, "he never goes off duty. I was doomed to recover in record breaking time."

John barely blinked at the comment. So much for lifting his mood. Finch cleared his throat looking at Joss.

"Anyway." She pursed her lips and leaned towards Harold, lowering her voice once again knowing John's ears would pick up her words. "You better get going. Leave Grumpy to me."

He nodded fighting a quirky smile. "See you tomorrow Joss. Goodbye John."

The door closed leaving them alone. John was still standing beside the bed his mind faraway. Joss wasn't sure he was even aware Harold had left. With a smile Joss reached her arm out gripping his hand. She gave it a gentle tug. Giving into her pull John eased beside her onto the bed.

Her soft smile remained firmly in place. "You must really love me." She saw the expected frown. "Here I am looking like a bruised, broken, and crushed prune and you still warm up to me every night."

Instead of a reassuring her silly comment with any shape of a smile, his hands framed her face, touch soft, and he leaned in to kiss her bruised eye where the swelling finally had gone down. He shifted to kiss her mouth, gently caressing her lips. Being cautious, ever cautious to not cause her any further pain. Joss moaned when he pulled away.

Sighing she looked into his eyes. "This isn't your fault." Instantly his eyes dropped. Tucking her fingers beneath his chin she waited until his gaze was once more on hers. "John, this isn't your fault. It's just something that happened." The words were firm. The interrogator rising. "It's part of the job."

"I should've been there to stop it. That's my job. It was too close Joss. Like always it was too close. I could've lost you-"

"But Baby you didn't." She assured, her tone softening at his glassy eyes. She loved this man. "You're just a man. God is the only one who decides when my time is up. Until it is, no matter how close death may come, if it's not my time, either you'll show up, or Fusco, or Finch will get a clue and send you to me. And the rescue will always be just in the nick of time. Okay?" She gave him another kiss. She could see he was taking her words to heart. "You know what I want?"

Joss broke into his thoughts. "What?"

"I want to take a nap while you hold me."

The wish being his command, made John move closer to her. Carefully he wrapped his arm around her shoulder while she snuggled and curled into him. Her palm lay flat against his chest. John dropped a quick kiss to her head closing his eyes. He memorized the feel of her small hand on his heart. The feel of her weight resting against him. The warmth of her body against his side. The light brushing of her toes on his leg. It was perfect. She was here. She had been beaten, but she was not destroyed. Maybe she was right and he did have a little help from higher up after all. And because of it he had one more day to spend with the woman he loved.