"Good to see you back on your feet, Detective." Finch's smile was genuine as he greeted her. She walked slowly toward him and smiled in return.

"Not quite. They've got me on desk duty, but I'm making the most of it. I trust Fusco has been keeping you and your friend on your toes in my absence." She joked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he's been a tremendous help."

"Friends certainly are good to have around when you need them, aren't they?" She said more bitterly than she intended. She handed him a file. "Here's a copy of the information you requested. Hope it's helpful." She started to turn away when Finch touched her arm.

She looked up at him and noticed his face soften.

"Joss, we really were worried about you. I'm glad to see you've pulled through. I know we never say it, but…..I'm sure you must know what you mean to us." She tilted her head to the side, looking at him. She appreciated his words, she truly did.

Truth be told, they could have let her die there on the pavement, but they did whatever they could to get her help, to make sure she hadn't died. She was inclined to believe him. But she was surprised at how raw she still felt at John's sudden disappearance. She still wasn't over it.

She managed to smile at Finch before she left. "Thank you Finch."

He nodded and she started to walk away, just in time to see John heading in their direction. The small misstep in his stride gave away the fact that he was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

She flashed back to the last time she saw him….he had brought her home from the hospital and helped her to her room.

"Hold onto me." He said putting an arm around her waist and insisted she put her hand up on his shoulder.

"Really, John, I didn't get shot in the legs or worse the kneecaps. I can walk just fine." She protested, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. No matter the pretense, she truly loved the attention he was giving her. She was growing accustomed to it, actually.

"I'd feel much better if you let me help you." He'd slowly eased her next to the bed and took off her coat before setting her down. He took off her shoes and tucked her under the covers.

"Thank you, John." She said, knowing he was about to leave and had only come to make sure she got home safe. She smiled up at him feeling tired and looking forward to a long nap. She was taken aback at the look in his eyes. There was something there she couldn't describe. She'd never seen it on his face before. But she felt it. She felt it strongly and just then he bent down to kiss her. His lips were so tender and his eyes showed such vulnerability. Her hand was on his face and he squeezed it. But then she saw a brief glimpse of panic in his eyes, right before he left her apartment. That was the last she saw of him, until now.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she refused to let him see the effect he was having on her.

"Carter…." He said and stood beside her. She however, kept walking.

"John." She said his name in greeting and was determined to leave without saying another word.

"Carter, wait."

"What's up?" She said keeping her tone indifferent.

"You're back at work."

"Yeah, about a week now."

"And you're well enough to be back?"

"As you can see." She said and nodded her head. She started to walk away again feeling proud of herself for having kept it together for that brief moment. But he was pulling on her arm. "What is it, John?"

He looked at a loss for words and she hoped he wouldn't give her some convoluted reason for just bailing on her without a word. The last thing she wanted was him to appease her. The last thing she wanted was his pity.

"About…..what happened…..between me and you…."

"It's alright really." She interrupted.

"No it's not. I just…"

"You did what you had to do to make sure your asset was fine and on the mend, is that it?" She promised herself she wouldn't be bitter, but she was failing. And she felt so caught up just being near him, she had to leave before she fell apart. "Listen John, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not talk about it. Let's just pretend none of it ever happened. That's what you really want to say isn't it? Thanks for saving my life. I owe you one."

She knew he wanted to say more, but she couldn't let herself listen. She didn't trust herself when it came to him. She had a tendency to believe whatever came out of his mouth. If he said he was sorry again, she might even believe him. And she couldn't take his word or actions as truth right now.

She had done just that weeks ago and look where it got her.