#s2fic

[emmy-germany]

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Christmas and the Gang

Repost, sort of? Written for the Blindspot Holiday project 2019 on Tumblr but I didn’t have an account back then. This is set during the two-week time jump between 2.10 and 2.11 so it sorta fits the rewatch timeline too. (I’m sure it makes no sense that Christmas would fall during that time but, then again why not?)

*

Nothing like spending Christmas with your family, Jane thought as she sat on the cold concrete floor outside of Roman’s Zero Division cell. Especially when neither of you remember anything about the holidays, what it’s all meant to be about.

Jane suspected that holiday celebrations hadn’t been a big part of life with Shepherd - she certainly hadn’t had any Christmas-related memories pop through. And Roman seemed to be just as much at a loss, though he appreciated the gifts and the take out roast turkey dinner she’d brought him.

But now that the present opening was over, they had run out of things to talk about and the terribleness of spending the holiday in a stark concrete bunker was settling in all around them. Roman seemed a bit fidgety too, like he was nervous about her presence.

“Don’t you have something better to be doing on Christmas Day?” he asked, giving her a skeptical look.

Weiterlesen

[ransomedrogue]

So... back to the catch up game. I wrote a couple scenes for 2.19, then wasn’t sure about them so I procrastinated on editing and posting. But, then I decided there’s no such thing as too much fic for this ep, so at least it’s something new to read :P

This is the first scene - cause I think we can all agree that Kurt needed to answer more questions. 

2.19 - The Polygraph

"I was terrified."

Her answer surprised him, but in hindsight, it should have been obvious. She had almost been shaking in the interrogation room – memory-less and completely alone. At the mercy of law enforcement, without knowing anything about the people charged with her care. But at the time, Weller had been far too focused on what it meant that his name was tattooed on her back. Even then the seed planted by Shepherd had been taking root, stirring up old memories and tugging on his eternal hope. Now though, he could see it from Jane's perspective, and it broke his heart a little bit.

She had been through so much, from the first minute they met, right up to that very moment. Even if it had involved lying to him and had led to Mayfair's death; the pain of that betrayal had finally faded enough for Kurt to realize how hard it must have been on Jane. And hearing her admit to being so afraid when they met just reminded him of all the ways he hadn't seen her struggles, despite his best efforts.

His head was still in the past when it became his turn and Weller had to force his attention back on the game. Having taken so many lie detector tests through his career, he hadn't been nervous until the polygraph had begun. But then, realizing that the subject of this test was quite different than his official FBI sessions had set a few butterflies loose inside him. Answering personal questions about his relationship with Jane was not something he'd ever been comfortable with; and now, after everything they'd been through, he had to be truthful, right to her face.

"What is your partner's best trait?"

Weller relaxed once the question was read aloud, answers already bouncing around in his head. It was a gimme, too easy in some respects. He knew what his reply would be almost instantly, but all of the other things he loved about her also wouldn't stop flashing through his mind.

She's smart. She's brave. She's gorgeous. She's deadly.

All of those replies would probably have passed. But the real truth was simpler than any of that.

"Her heart."

Jane's eyes snapped up to meet his, a tiny grin tugging on the corner of her mouth. And, despite the stakes of the game they were playing, that disbelieving smile was a bigger reward than hearing the sound that indicated another passing answer.

Weller exhaled with relief at having dealt with his first question. He was still annoyed at having to participate in the hacker scheme, but getting to hear what was going on in Jane's head was nearly worth it. Even if he was forced to tell his truths too, that was somehow okay – because it was Jane. She made him want to open up, despite how unnatural it was for him.

When the next question was read, Kurt was still lost in how it had felt to tell Jane what he loved the most about her – even if that wasn't exactly how the question had been put. But then he heard what Jane was being asked next and his anxiety immediately returned.

"If you could change one thing about your partner, what would it be?"

He was instantly nervous to hear the answer but also a bit desperate to as well. What would Jane want to change about him? There were so many ways she could destroy him in that very moment. He didn't know if she had any inkling of that at all.

The serious expression Jane was wearing while considering her answer didn't exactly settle his concern. Kurt wondered about the possibilities running through her mind, while forcing himself to breathe.

"If I could change one thing…"

Jane paused, giving him an uncertain look before continuing.

"He wouldn't have been hurt by the people he loved."

Weller was mentally stunned for a moment, so sure that she would say something about him being too stubborn. The answer was so Jane though. All heart, just like he'd said.

A pang of adoration coursed through him, briefly seizing him in it before spitting him out, emotionally raw. Kurt wondered what the polygraph was reading from him at the moment – if it could read love better than it could read lies.

Because that was one truth he couldn't hide from himself anymore.

###

It wasn't exactly what the question had meant, but by then Jane had figured out that it only really mattered if the answer was true. Which hers was.

She didn't want to change anything about Weller. No matter if he was stubborn as hell and had hurt her deeply, only recently accepting her back into his life. But she often wished that so many awful things hadn't happened to him, even when one of those things was completely her doing.

Watching Kurt now though, Jane wondered if she'd made the right choice. He was sitting very still, as if taken aback by her answer - which made her think she should have said something less personal.

She was still doubting herself when Weller was asked the next question; and then when Jane heard what was asked, a fresh wave of worry passed through her.

"Name one thing you're afraid to tell your partner."

She wasn't sure she wanted to know anything Weller was scared to tell her; not since that fateful night, so many months ago now. He'd left her a message that day, dancing around the words he had been afraid to say back then, the ones she'd only dreamt of hearing. But whatever he was afraid to tell her now, Jane was pretty sure it wouldn't be something she was eager to know. She had caused him so much hurt; it was easy to imagine he still held onto some of that blame. But hearing him confirm that he could never forgive her would still crush her.

Forcing herself to take long deep breaths in through her nose, Jane focused on each inhale and exhale instead of watching Weller frown at the question, his eyes flitting a bit nervously as he searched for an answer.

Finally, his gaze settled on his feet and he muttered his reply.

"I'm sorry…" he started, his voice low and full of gravel.

"For not letting you explain. And for letting them hurt you."

Jane's head shot up, her heart suddenly thundering in her chest.

Just like that he had sliced an old wound open, yet managed to start healing it at the same time. Neither of them had ever acknowledged what happened that night, and Jane had just assumed it was just another buried piece of their complicated past. She remembered pleading with him, begging him to hear her out. But he had been completely shut down emotionally, behind an impenetrable wall.

Jane was surprised how hard his apology had hit. She'd thought that was all behind her, especially now that they had mostly re-established the trust between them. But her physiological reaction had been obvious; and she really did feel a sense of healing from hearing his words.

Weller was still staring at his feet as his answer registered as true, and Jane felt a smile tugging at her cheek. His discomfort was a bit endearing, especially because he could have given many different answers to the question. He'd chosen to bare himself to her, which wasn't like Kurt at all.

"Next question. Have you ever lied to your partner and was it about something important?"

Well, that was an easy one, Jane thought with a mental eye roll. Hopefully there weren't many questions left – though, irritating as it was to have to participate in the game, there were some perks as well. It wasn't often she got to see this side of Kurt, and she wondered what else he might be encouraged to reveal.

[ransomedrogue]

Okay, now for scene two. This isn’t my usual steeze... but trying to branch out a little with more romance, less angst :P

2.19 - The Bar

All of this. That led me to you, and you to me. And that is something that I would never want to change.

Even with Weller's words still echoing in her mind, Jane refused to think it was possible, until he leaned in so close she could smell the booze on his breath.

They had come so far in their relationship, considering it hadn't been long since he was uncomfortable just being around her. Yet she had been careful not to assume anything, even as they started being friends again. The fact remained that her place in his life was due to circumstance and necessity, not because he wanted her around.

She had messed everything up so thoroughly the first time, right when they had gotten so close. The thought that Weller would give her a second chance had been too much to even consider.

But now there was no doubt about his intentions, even as they were interrupted by Patterson and Zapata, returning with the next round. His wink and sly grin made her cheeks flush as they pulled away from each other and settled back into their seats. Patterson made a quip about finding the answers at the bottom of the round but Jane was suddenly having a hard time focusing on anything other than Kurt's mouth.

It had been an eternity since they'd kissed; she almost couldn't believe what had nearly happened. Except that Weller still had that charming crooked grin pasted on his face and hadn't stopped making furtive eye contact, ever since the near miss. Then, after the next round had been passed around, Jane felt his fingertips searching for hers, under the table. Silently, she hooked his pinky, gripping it tight.

The rest of his fingers followed soon after, slipping in between hers and giving her hand a quick squeeze. Warmth spread up her arm, straight to her spine, and Jane had to pull back on her smile before things became too obvious.

She forced herself to focus on the conversation, and not on the weight of Weller's hand in hers. Patterson had started talking about the Garens and the game they had come up with to pass on their files. She was definitely fan-girling a little over the elaborate planning of the hacker caper, with Zapata interjecting once in awhile to poke fun at how ridiculous all of it was.

"I can't believe they made you guys take a polygraph. Good thing it wasn't me, I always fail."

Jane grinned, even as she cringed a bit too, thinking about the test. She glanced over at Weller, who winked again, offering a knowing look that made her cheeks hot.

"Yeah, what did they even ask?" Patterson asked.

Her heart stopped for a second, realizing where the conversation was headed. Kurt's playful demeanour had also shifted into one of wariness, his eyes meeting hers for a silent congress on how much to say.

While the questions hadn't been explicit, they had definitely been personal. And things were still tenuous between them, so Jane wasn't certain how comfortable Weller would be, revealing his answers to the team. She was sure he'd only been honest in front of her due to the circumstances, and she'd assumed they would never speak of it again.

"It was just basic stuff. Like where did you first meet," Weller replied, too obviously trying to blow off the question.

"Oh come on," Tasha interjected, rolling her eyes.

"There had to be something juicier than that. Give us another one."

"I'm serious," Kurt tried. "It was all like that. They took it from some magazine."

"Jane, fess up," Zapata continued.

"What else did they ask?"

Jane hoped she wasn't blushing, but it was hard not to as she mentally went through the questions and Kurt's responses. Not that the questions had been spicy, but they had touched on truths that wouldn't have otherwise been revealed. Frantically, she searched her mind for another one of the less personal answers.

"There really wasn't anything exciting," Jane tried.

"I mean… they asked why do you choose to work with your partner and why does your partner choose to work with you?"

"And? What did you say?"

Jane sighed internally; apparently was no deterring Zapata's curiosity, no matter how dull they tried to make it all sound.

"Um, I said I work with Weller because he's loyal, honest, and I trust him with my life. And he works with me because he was forced to."

When Tasha didn't reply, Jane thought that was the end of that line of questioning and exhaled a breath of relief. She'd managed a response that didn't involve any of the surprisingly intimate things Kurt had admitted under duress.

But after a moment, both Zapata and Patterson start giggling, and then the amusement passed between them, building up until Tasha snorted with laughter.

"How the hell did that pass?" she spurted.

"That is such BS."

"Seriously Jane, you can't actually believe that," Patterson added.

They both looked so incredulous, but memories of heated arguments cascaded through Jane's mind, along with the words that still wouldn't leave her alone.

"I don't even like being in the same room with her."

She knew it wasn't true anymore, based on the warm weight still grasping onto her hand. Yet it was still hard to believe, even if Weller had tried to refute the same thing just moments ago. And then almost kissed her.

"Forced to work with you," Tasha snickered.

"We were there, Jane. That is not what happened."

Patterson nodded in agreement, and the two women exchanged smirks.

"More like impossible to keep away from you."

Jane couldn't hold back a broad grin, even as she instinctively wanted to deny Tasha's tipsy words. She looked over at Weller, who was doing his best to frown at Zapata but not managing to look stern at all.

"Look. Weller's blushing, that's how not true it is."

The light was dim but Kurt definitely was a bit rosy-cheeked as he turned towards her, and another crooked smile was pushing through. Shrugging at the good-natured ribbing he was taking, he squeezed her hand again.

"See," he said.

"I was never forced to work with you."

###

Getting called out of the bar and back to the office was never a good thing, especially when they were all already a few drinks in. But years of living an on-call life had taught Weller something about sobering up in the moment – he'd figured out that pressing on his adrenaline made him more clear-headed, despite his blood alcohol level. And sitting in the back of a cab, squeezed up against Jane was certainly driving his heart rate up, even more than a possible lead on Sandstorm.

They took off towards the NYO and Weller told himself to focus on the upcoming task. Even though they didn't know exactly what they would be up against, he had to be ready to lead his team. But, with the warmth of Jane's body pressed up on his side, his mind kept drifting back into moments from the day.

That flirty grin she'd worn as they strolled down the street together casually, plus her adorably awkward probing of his emotional status, post breakup. He'd quickly remembered how much he loved her straightforward sensitivity; and that had only been reinforced by her answers during the polygraph.

Flashes of the cheesy relationship questions shot through his mind, along with the most memorable answers. He had been uncomfortable even thinking about the best thing Jane had ever done for him, let alone admitting it in front of her. But that had been somewhat balanced out by hearing Jane's answers too.

I used to put a lot of walls up. She somehow found a way to get inside them.

He'd never even admitted it to himself before, yet he'd immediately known what the answer was.

I work with him because he's honest, loyal, and I trust him with my life.

It seemed impossible that they had gotten back there, considering how angry and broken things had been after she'd returned. The weight of her wedged up against him, so familiar even after all that space between them.

Weller glanced down at Jane surreptitiously, but the way her head was angled, she caught his eyes easily and flashed him a conspiratorial half-wink. Desire flooded through him, especially when she followed up with a deliberate nudge to his hip.

The urge to throw caution to the wind and wrap his arm around her was fuelled by both arousal and alcohol. But he wasn't drunk enough to give into the impulse, especially with Tasha and Patterson there to witness it all.

Kurt kept his twitchy hand balled up in fist, pressed up hard against his own thigh. Thoughts kept flying about in his head, telling him to focus his energy on the mission ahead, and not on rekindling his romance with Jane.

The moment kept running through his mind though; leaning in closer, her lips so close he could almost taste the bourbon on them. It had been ephemeral, and lost once the others returned. Even if they had sat a bit too close for the rest of the night, right up to that very moment.

With impeccable timing, he felt Jane's fingertips tiptoeing onto his thigh before finding his hand and curling hers over it, pealing his fingers open enough to slide hers in between. Then, while deliberately looking away from him, she picked his hand up and slid it over, until it was touching her inner thigh.

Heat was hammering through his body, shooting from his arm to his spine. His thumb started stroking the inseam of her jeans and it seemed impossible that just touching her through her clothes could set his every nerve cell on fire.

When he had finally gained enough control to sneak a peak at her, Weller saw that Jane had her head turned away slightly, and was doing her best to feign innocence. Yet she was wearing a familiar sly grin, which only turned him on even more.

Instinctively, his hand began to move its way up her leg, his fingers crawling their way up until there was nowhere left to go. Then, for a moment, his whisky confidence wavered and he wondered if he'd pushed things too far.

As if sensing his question, Jane pressed her hand over his again, holding it in place against her groin. Weller almost shuddered audibly from the intimacy of the feeling, and he forced himself to exhale slowly, even though his heart was thundering in his chest.

He was dangerously aroused, to the point where his pants were beginning to feel constricted. But the idea of letting go and sliding away from Jane never crossed his mind. Even if he was playing with fire, it felt far too good to stop.

Thankfully, the cab arrived at the NYO before the situation got completely out of hand. Weller was forced back into reality as soon as the vehicle pulled to a halt; allowing himself just one more squeeze before briskly exiting the car.

By the time everyone was out and the ride was paid for, Weller's heart rate had finally come back down, along with the bulge in his jeans. Still, as they walked into the building, Jane brushed up against him deliberately, and hot blood flared through his body once more.

Kurt shuddered, then did his best to exhale his excess emotion as they got in the elevator. He could see that Jane was wearing just the smallest hint of a grin and he forced his eyes forward, willing his inebriated mind to ignore the effect it had on him.

Sucking in another deep breath, Weller then forced himself to push it out slowly. It was going to be a long day; he could feel it already.

[ransomedrogue]

hey all... I’m back from a hiatus and trying to catch up with the rewatch so... fic dump time! 

today... double dose of 2.12. stealing @indelibleevidence‘s idea and doing the apartment scene two ways. but because it’s me, one is ‘normal whumpy’ and the other is ‘extra whumpy’, haha. I think it’ll be clear which is which :P 

2.12 version A

It felt risky, showing up at his door unannounced. But two moments of that day were sticking to her; sharp little barbs that wouldn't leave her alone. And Jane knew only seeing him would bring her any relief.

"It's not stupid," she said when he answered it. Even though she knew he would have no idea what she was talking about.

But it had lingered in her mind, his obvious sadness, and his attempt to deflect it. Weller didn't usually let his emotions show, and yet it had still been so clear to her that he was upset.

Her chest had ached for him, but it had warmed too. Seeing those hidden parts of him, it felt like getting a glimpse into his heart.

So she hadn't been able to get it out of her head. And it certainly wasn't the only scene from the day she couldn't escape.

Roman shooting them, point blank. She kept seeing it over and over.

Even now, Jane internally flinched at the memory, even though both Weller and Reade ended up being okay. Kurt had even absolved her and Roman of any blame for what had happened, and yet she still felt terrible for putting him in that position.

Vests fail. He could have died. And even though Kurt had tried to play off the pain, she knew it had to hurt a lot for him to show any discomfort at all.

Standing at his door now, Weller looked a bit surprised but physically fine, which reassured her immediately. Then, the smile he offered her was so genuine and charming, Jane couldn't help remembering all the things she'd missed about him. Immediately, all doubt about showing up unannounced died away; he was clearly pleased to see her.

Jane relaxed a bit as Weller opened two beers and brought them over. He was trying to keep things loose, bugging her about her brother shooting him. And even though that had been stressing her out, his friendly demeanour now chased away her worry, as she felt that comfortable familiarity building between them once more.

Jane did her best to carry the good mood, offering to help look at the files on him but then getting distracted by the yearbook on his table. The chance to see pictures of a young Kurt was far too precious to be missed and she opened it eagerly, even as Weller grumbled about barely being in it.

She found him immediately though, pointing at him with glee. He sidled up to comment and things were going great until another part of the image caught her eye. Then, as always, Sandstorm jumped into the moment, disrupting the ease of the evening. As soon as Jane pointed out Shepherd in the stands at his basketball game, Kurt's good mood evaporated and he was lost to his one memory of her.

He told Jane about sneaking out of the school at night and getting caught by the security guards, but not until after he'd landed a couple hits of his own. Then getting reamed out by the commandant and meeting Shepherd afterwards.

Weller was agitated as he recounted his tale and then wracked his brain for any other times he met Shepherd at the academy. But even though she felt terrible for him, knowing how much it bothered him that he'd been watched for so long, Jane couldn't help but grin to herself as she pictured an angry teenaged Kurt, rebelling against the world.

She felt the same affection for adult Kurt, now pacing the length of the breakfast bar and muttering to himself.

"That was almost twenty years ago," he said. "It doesn't make any sense. I was a nobody back then."

Weller groaned, his frustration showing through as he rubbed his eyes wearily and continued to pace.

"Why?" he muttered. "There was nothing special about me. I was almost kicked out."

She knew he was telling his own truth, yet Jane also knew there had surely been something exceptional about young Weller. Not because he'd been singled out by Shepherd, but just because he was Kurt. His heart and his drive were unmatched; that was probably what Shepherd had seen in him, even way back then.

Jane considered telling him that, then thought better of it. Weller was agitated and stirring in his memories; she didn't want to add to his overloaded mind.

"Kurt, stop for a minute," she said instead.

But Weller didn't even seem to hear her through his own grumble of unanswerable questions; just kept stomping out a repetitive path until he grabbed the back of a stool in frustration.

For a moment it looked like he was going to launch the chair at the wall and Jane stepped towards him, alarmed at how quickly his emotions had escalated. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she could feel that Weller was almost shaking with tension.

Cursing herself for epically failing in her attempt to have a relaxing evening with Kurt, Jane unconsciously started rubbing his back as she tried to talk him down.

"Hey, we're going to figure this out," she said. "We'll find out how she was connected to the academy and why she was watching you."

Weller growled, still gripping the back of the chair tightly.

"It's not just that," he muttered. "Everything feels so out of my control."

Snapping upright suddenly, Kurt violently shoved the stool at the breakfast bar before grunting sharply at the movement. Jane's hand was still on his back as he curled his upper body, hugging himself tightly while trying to recover his breath.

Frowning, Jane wondered if the injury to his chest was worse than he'd let on. Which shouldn't have surprised her; he'd been shot twice at close range, was lucky not to have broken some ribs.

It was only then that she realized he probably hadn't gone to medical afterwards, even though he would have insisted on it if she'd taken two bullets to the plates. And once Jane started thinking about it, the worry wouldn't leave her alone.

"Hey, did you get checked out by a doctor?" she asked.

Weller had regained his breath and wasn't hunched over anymore, but his voice still sounded tight as he stepped away from her touch.

"I'm fine. It's just sore."

"That looked more like serious pain," Jane commented, her hand dropping back to her side.

Turning to face her again, Weller's irritation seemed to fade towards tiredness.

"I'll be okay," he muttered.

"I want to be sure about that," Jane replied.

It was why she'd taken the chance and shown up at his place. And now it was seeming more like he wasn't okay at all.

"Can I see?" she asked.

Weller shook his head.

"I'm fine, Jane. It's just a bruise."

"Prove it, then."

She hadn't meant for it to come out as a demand, and yet it had stopped Kurt's protesting. He was still frowning at her though, his body taut with resistance as she stepped closer, her eyes catching his as she reached for his shirt.

Unsure about what she was doing, but unable to stop herself, Jane started unbuttoning his shirt. Weller watched intently as she undid the first button, his expression serious and unreadable. Yet he didn't try to stop her, just kept staring at her with a furrowed brow as she opened the rest of his shirt and revealed two dark purple welts on his chest.

Grimacing at the sight, Jane let out a soft 'oh' and barely stopped herself from reaching out and touching his bruised skin. Both shots were centre mass, and she couldn't help picturing the bullets piercing his body, tearing through his heart.

"Are you sure nothing's broken?" she asked. "It looks pretty bad."

The urge to check for herself was nearly impossible to contain. But she already felt like she was pushing too far. They had only recently gotten closer again, enough so she'd come by to look in on him that night. She didn't want to make things uncomfortable between them again; not when their relationship had come such a long way.

"It's just bruised," Weller replied.

"I'm fine."

Jane pulled her eyes from his swollen chest and looked up, shaking her head at him.

"Yeah. You keep saying that. But I'm not convinced."

###

"Yeah. You keep saying that. But I'm not convinced."

It was the day that just kept giving.

He'd been stewing about everything before Jane knocked on his door. Allie moving away with his baby; taking two in the vest and still losing the HMX; getting dumped after all that.

Then, for a brief moment, it had all faded into the background. There was just Jane, at his doorstep, with an empathetic smile and his favourite beer.

The lightness had only lasted a few minutes though, not even long enough to drink a beer together. When she'd spotted Shepherd in his yearbook, he'd gotten caught up in his only memory of her, fixating on it for any clue as to why he'd been picked for her plot.

And then, somehow, nearly launching a stool through his breakfast bar had resulted in him standing there in front of Jane, with his shirt undone.

Weller felt exposed, the way he had earlier that day, when Jane had asked him if there was something wrong. Nobody else had noticed, nor would he have admitted the problem, even if anyone else had asked. He'd almost been surprised to find himself telling her, baring his heart so openly.

But it was Jane. She'd always had that effect on him.

And at least he wasn't ruminating about his problems anymore, his mind now completely occupied with what Jane would do next.

The thought that he should button up his shirt and step away flitted through Weller's mind. And yet he just stood there, staring at the concern in Jane's expression, feeling both warm and conflicted about her obvious worry for him.

Because he wasn't fine. His chest ached and his heart was in pieces and everything felt out of control. So many things could have gone wrong that day, and most of them had - except Roman talking Kat out of killing him and Jane.

He remembered telling her to be careful, because he knew how she could be about her brother. She'd looked so pissed off, her eyes like daggers. And now she was staring at his bare skin, those same eyes now soft and empathetic. He loved both sides of her; his heart thumping in his ear as he distantly heard words spilling from his mouth.

"I'll be okay. It's just been a rough day."

"Yeah," she agreed, the heady air between them suddenly broken. "It has."

He'd been so caught up in his own problems that he hadn't thought about anything else. But just then, Weller saw that he'd been missing something important.

"Are you alright?" he asked, knowing suddenly that she wasn't.

Jane was silent for awhile, then sighed and looked up to meet his eyes.

"I feel like I keep screwing up. I convinced you to do this. And almost got you killed. It was a bad idea."

He'd forgotten how responsible she felt for bringing the tattoos into their lives. Or maybe he'd just buried it deep, unable to resolve the dissonance between that Jane and the one who'd lied to them. But then somewhere along the way, he'd remembered that she'd do anything to protect the people she loved; even if that meant putting her own life in danger.

As she'd done that day, bringing Roman on the mission to get him out of his cell and give him an opportunity to contribute. Despite how risky it had been for her to bet on her brother, there had been no waver in her resolve.

"Hey, I'm the one in charge here. This isn't on you," Weller said.

"I keep seeing Roman shoot you."

He realized only then that was partly responsible for her appearance at his door; that Jane was checking up on him to soothe her own demons. Which shouldn't have felt so good, and yet it did - making him remember, once again, why he'd loved her so much.

"Hey I'm right here. Roman did what he had to do," he tried.

"None of it is your fault, Jane."

Still, she stared at his chest with that consternated furrow.

"It would have gone right through your heart," she murmured.

"But it didn't," he replied.

Weller inched closer, as if to prove his wholeness to her. In response, Jane stepped right up to him, and he had a premonition of what was going to happen. For a brief second, he also considered that he'd geared his actions toward that moment; manipulated it somehow.

But when Jane shyly placed the palm of her hand over the bruise on his chest, he was washed away by a flood of emotions and memories. Her touch on his bare skin, warm over his heart; it set all of his nerves on fire. Desperately, Kurt pushed back on the arousal that flooded through him, reminding himself of all the reasons he shouldn't be so close to her.

"But it didn't," Jane repeated, so quietly he barely heard it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get upset. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Of course he knew that already. She'd shown up with beer, trying to be a good friend. It was his fault the tone of the night had shifted so drastically, his anxieties that had changed things from a casual fun night into an emotionally charged situation.

But now she was visibly distressed, her hand caressing his bruises. Gently, Weller took her fingers in his, dropping them away from his chest as he used his other arm to pull her even closer.

Jane seemed unsure for just a moment, but then sank into his embrace, laying her head lightly against his sternum. And the comfortable weight of her there felt so right, even though alarm bells were ringing throughout his body.

He considered never letting go of her, but eventually he felt her exhale heavily and lean out of his of arms. So he stepped back, and got rewarded with a sheepish grin.

"I think I should go?" she said, looking a bit embarrassed.

"No. You were right," Kurt replied firmly. "We shouldn't both be alone."

The truth was, he never felt less alone than when he was with her.

And he was starting to think it was possible Jane felt the same; especially when her smile finally made it to her eyes.

"Okay then, let's drink some more beer," she said.

Weller laughed, feeling freed from his worries again, for at least that moment. His baby was moving far away and the mission had been a bust and Shepherd had been watching him for decades. But also, against all odds, Jane was alive and at his place, trying to look after him.

"Yes ma'am," he replied.

It really was the day that just kept giving.

[ransomedrogue]

getting reeeeeally close to being caught up... couple little Rich-involved scenes this time, cause he’s so fun to write :P

2.7

"She's coming back. She's going to be fine."

Hearing that Zapata was going to be okay, Jane grabbed onto Weller's wrist, just as he remembered to breathe again. He'd almost lost one of his team, due to his own mistake.

When Jane let go of him, Kurt stepped back against the wall and looked skyward. He forced himself to take a moment, in an attempt to slow down his head.

Everything had happened so fast and he'd been acting on instinct. But Weller couldn't help thinking that he'd almost screwed up massively by killing the Akkadian before they'd gotten the information needed to save Tasha. Not that he'd meant to stab the man in the heart, but it had absolutely seemed necessary when the weapon had been meant for Jane.

Kurt brought his hands to his face, rubbing his closed eyelids as if that would clear his mind. He tried to remind himself that Zapata was okay and that the Akkadian would likely have just stonewalled them anyways. But he still felt like he'd fucked up.

Running his hands through his short hair, Weller shook himself back into the present and looked over at Jane, who was absently wiping blood off of her face. Frowning, he opened his mouth to tell her she should get checked out when his thought was interrupted by the irritating voice he hoped to never hear again after that day.

"That was close for what's her name. I thought she was a goner after you killed the Akkadian. But that's what I love about you, Stubbles. You're a man of action. Jane's in danger, you don't think twice. Bam. Right in the heart."

Weller glared at the loudmouthed criminal. Rich's knack for picking up on unspoken thoughts was something that really got under his skin.

"See Jane, what did I say?"

"Shut up, Rich," Jane fired back.

Thanks Jane, Weller said to himself. He didn't trust himself to deal with Rich Dotcom at the moment. Because it was true, when he'd seen Jane in a dangerous position with a knife in the assassin's hand, fear and instinct had taken over.

Jane stepped over to where he was standing and leaned beside him, a little tentatively.

"Thanks," she said.

Her presence settled him, despite the emotional distance between them. He just always felt more secure when she was within sight.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You're still bleeding."

Jane reflexively lifted her hand to the cut on her nose and did her best to brush away the blood.

"It looks worse than it is," she replied dismissively.

Weller frowned. He knew how hard the Akkadian hit; his own body was already pretty sore from the blows he'd taken.

"You should go get it looked at."

Jane sighed.

"I'm fine, Kurt."

Weller had just opened his mouth to order her to see the doctor when he was interrupted by another of Rich's commentaries.

"I still can't believe you guys actually took out the Akkadian. I really am a genius. Do you even know his stats? Like you both so badass. But Jane… she's like a freaking warrior princess. Where do you even get moves like that?"

Jane turned to look at Weller, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. But for once, Kurt wasn't entirely pissed off with Rich's fanboying. In this case, he was actually right there with Rich Dotcom.

"It was pretty badass," he agreed. “Those moves were next level.”

Jane shook her head dismissively, with a sad glint in her eyes. For a long time it seemed like she wasn't going to say anything, but finally she furrowed her brow and replied.

"It was... like a dream," she said.

Weller waited for her continue, or clarify her comment. But Jane just gave him one more wistful look before stepping away.

He didn't like the sense of defeat in her words, even if he didn't know what they meant. But, as usual those days, he also didn't know what to say to her. So Kurt watched her walk off and then went over to grab Rich; making sure to give the criminal a few extra shoves to compensate for having to listen to him all day.

###

The air in the SUV was heavy with tension on their way back to the NYO. Jane sat in the front passenger seat, feeling irritated even though they had managed to arrest both Rich Dotcom and his accomplice, Boston Crabb. It certainly didn't help that Weller had insisted on separating the two and then personally transporting Rich back to holding just in case the criminal had any more shenanigans up his sleeve. And somehow Jane had been assigned to that vehicle too, probably for her ability to keep the loudmouth in line.

But of course that meant it was a perfect set up for Rich to get under their skin one more time. And Jane was already plenty pissed off.

As if on cue, she heard Rich start talking from the back seat and saw that he was watching them in the rear view mirror.

"Do you really think I can't change?" he asked petulantly. "That hurts my feelings."

Jane could feel his eyes on her but forced herself not to acknowledge him at all. Rich's comments hit far too close to home, which of course annoyed the crap out of her.

She had been hurt by Weller's snarky comment; especially because she needed to believe that people could change. Maybe not Rich Dotcom. But she wanted to have faith in Roman. And she needed Kurt to have faith in her.

But her request to try and turn Roman had been denied. And things with Weller felt like a process of two steps forward and one step back. She didn't know if they would ever get back to real trust between them.

"I don't give a crap about your feelings," Weller growled.

"No, that's clear," Rich commented airily.

"You don't give two shits about anyone's feelings right now."

"Enough, Rich," Weller warned.

"And I don't think you can change. You only think about yourself and use everyone to meet your needs. That's who you are."

It was hard not to hear the insinuation in Kurt's words, especially when he'd been making comments like that ever since she'd returned. But lately, Jane had been wondering if she was just extra sensitive due to the state of their relationship and all her self doubt.

"Ohhh…" Rich said, as if finally cluing in to something big.

"Is that what happened with Jane? She wasn't who you thought she was?"

Silently, they both turned to glare at Rich for a moment. Which of course only made him look all the more delighted.

"We're not talking about Jane," Weller growled through gritted teeth.

But then, after a short pause, he continued; as if he couldn't help himself.

"Jane, is a good person," he stated firmly.

"She's the one that wanted to give you a chance. And she just risked her own life to save yours, when she didn't have to."

Oh, well that was a surprise.

She hadn't expected any support from Weller; especially after messing up the mission with the chip and pushing so hard about Roman.

But irritatingly, Rich clearly had. She could see in the rearview mirror that he had donned a sly grin.

"Ah there it is, I knew it!" he crowed. "Whatever's going on between you two, it's just a blip. See didn't I tell you? He is just confused. Don't worry Jane, he'll get his head on straight soon."

"Shut up Rich," Jane and Weller both growled, in perfect unison.

Miraculously he actually did this time, though still wearing an awfully big smirk for someone that had just been arrested. Jane sighed and stopped looking back at Rich, turning her eyes out her window instead.

She resisted the urge to glance over at Kurt as his words replayed in her head. It had been shocking to hear Weller defend her; even if he'd been goaded into it. She might not have even believed her own ears if Rich hadn't been there with his incessant commentary.

Still, Jane had to admit that Weller's words had sparked a little hope in her. Even if he was now avoiding eye contact and grinding his jaw – for once, she wanted Rich to be right.

[ransomedrogue]

ah. that hug... never gets old. but also, more hugs required (of course I couldn’t resist!)

2.10

Pellington walked off and Weller's heart rate finally started to drop.

He hadn't been at all sure that his threat would work - there had been no way of knowing whether Pellington still valued him enough. But apparently he wasn't yet replaceable, and had bought his team some time to regroup and move forward.

Weller's mind flashed through all that had gone wrong in the past two days, all the agents that had died. He'd almost lost Reade and Patterson in separate incidents; Nas too.

He couldn't help feeling protective of the NSA agent, even though he didn't entirely agree with many of her tactics. They needed her on the team, and he felt obligated to defend her. Briefly, his mind flashed through their relationship, which, like usual, just left him with a head full of questions.

Sharing a bed with her was a little like sleeping with the enemy. Not that they were antagonistic toward each other; in fact, they worked together better than he thought possible, considering their differences in opinion. She even seemed to be getting more attached to him than he anticipated, and he hadn't ended things even though it never felt quite right.

You know why.

Weller frowned, resisting the thought. And yet, his eyes locked onto Jane and his heart contracted.

Of all the near misses, none of them had scared him more.

She was still quietly talking to Roman, soothing him with her touch. For a moment Kurt flashed back to Jane walking out of the elevator that morning; how he'd crushed her to him without hesitation, as she'd stuttered out apologies.

The relief he'd felt had been undeniable. Unlike all those close calls since she'd been back, he hadn't been able to ignore how much she still meant to him.

So of course he couldn't let Pellington send Roman off with the CIA, even if it meant putting his own job on the line. Jane would never have forgiven herself for bringing her brother in, if he ended up in a black site. She already had so much weighing on her that Kurt wasn't sure how she'd managed to hold it all together. But it was clear that he needed to start stepping up.

Weller pulled out his phone and made a couple of quick calls to get things arranged. Then, with that dealt with, he walked back down to where Jane was standing with Roman, gently keeping him calm.

She glanced up as he approached and flashed him a grateful look. Kurt smiled to himself, secure in having made the right decision. The appreciation in Jane's expression was well worth the risk he'd taken.

Weller explained that they were preparing a space for Roman but it would take some time. He led them both back into the interrogation room and asked Roman to wait there while they got things ready.

Jane offered to stay with her brother but an internal pull made Kurt say he needed her in the meantime. Which wasn't exactly true, at least not with the case, as he'd implied. And yet, in a different way, it was far too true.

Walking out of the room, Jane reassured Roman that she would be back soon. Then, just as the door closed behind them, she turned to Weller, looking up at him with big jade eyes.

"Thank you," she sputtered. "I can't let him get taken to a black site. He's my brother."

But that gratitude that had just felt so rewarding, suddenly turned to dust in his mouth. Jane's determination just reminded Kurt that he hadn't done anything to save her from that same fate. The guilt of that thought always made him hunker down emotionally, so his reply came out more sharply than he intended.

"They wouldn't get anything out of him. Not even if he does get his memories back."

He could feel Jane tense up beside him and Weller silently cursed himself for saying something so insensitive. He'd done his best to not think about what had been done to her, what he had let happen on his watch. But now, that mental image was just sitting in his mind, refusing to be ignored. Jane, strung up and beaten, for not having any answers for the CIA.

Weller gulped hard and changed his tone.

"No one deserves to be tortured, no matter what they've done. Roman needs to trust us when he starts remembering things. I know you'll be able to connect with him."

Jane glanced back towards the closed door, obviously unsure.

"He's so angry," she said.

"Even after the ZIP. Maybe I made the wrong choice."

"Jane, if you hadn't done it, he'd be long gone. At least this way we have a chance at finding out what he knows."

As frustrating as it was, Weller recognized that she'd been in a tough position. Though he did question why she didn't sedate and restrain him instead of using the ZIP, the answer was obvious. She'd wanted to give him the same chance she'd had to be a different person.

"But what if he doesn't remember anything? What if he remembers what I did? I just took away his whole life and got him locked up. He'd probably kill me on the spot if he knew."

She was slipping, losing herself to anxiety. Weller could see the desperation growing in her expression as everything that had happened over the past two days finally caught up to her.

There were no answers to her questions, and Kurt knew he had no words to settle her soul. So instead, he stepped forward and pulled her into him.

###

"But what if he doesn't remember anything? What if he remembers what I did? I just took away his whole life and got him locked up. He'd probably kill me on the spot if he knew."

Jane was standing outside the interrogation room with Weller when it all hit her at once. The endless stream of what ifs, loaded on top of everything she'd already messed up.

She'd almost delivered Roman right to the CIA. That realization punched her hard, right in the gut.

Even though Weller had just fixed things as best he could, and she should feel relieved. Instead, it had all come crashing down on her, the moment Jane started processing everything that had just happened.

Kurt was saying something about connecting with Roman and she understood he was trying to settle her. But it was not enough and too late. Because she was already spiralling, anxiety having taken over both her body and mind.

It had been such a desperate move, borne of both hope and despair. She had just wanted to give Roman a chance at a different life. Yet, acting on her best intentions had been screwing things up a lot lately.

So of course giving Roman the ZIP had almost immediately backfired. He wasn't much less dangerous now that he couldn't remember anything; and she had put him in the same vulnerable position she'd once been in. At the mercy of the government, without access to the information they wanted.

Jane couldn't help shuddering at the flash of memory that surged through her just then. Keaton trying and failing to beat answers out of her. She felt her shoulders tense up, and did her best to push away the claustrophobic feeling that encroached when she thought about the black site.

But the thought of putting Roman through that just pushed her deeper into the dark hole that was sucking her in. If Kurt hadn't stepped in, she wasn't sure what she would have done. And yet, the risk he was taking just weighed on her even more. He could so easily be the next one damaged by her actions; another casualty of her mistakes.

She'd fallen for Shepherd's plan completely and dragged everyone into danger. All those agents lost in the ambush. Reade and Patterson. Roman, too.

Her chest was suddenly so tight, it seemed impossible that she was still managing to get air in. Alarmed, Jane looked up at Weller wordlessly, unsure if he would understand her silent plea. She didn't even know what he could do to help; all she knew was the panic was caving in on her.

But of course, concern was immediately reflected in the blue of his eyes as he watched her flail. A little frown appeared on his brow too, and then he stepped forward with open arms.

It was everything Jane wanted and yet there was something inside her screaming that she didn't deserve any comfort. Not after falling for Sandstorm's plan and costing them all so much.

Weller didn't bother to wait though. Just like that morning, he strode right up to her and crushed her to him.

For a moment Jane's internal battle continued, but then the familiar weight of him, gripping her tight, became impossible to resist. She crumbled into him as he pulled her even closer, and then started running his palm along the back of her neck.

His touch made her spine tingle, and yet it soothed her at the same time. Jane could feel her breathing slowing down, and the pounding in her ears receded enough that she realized Weller had been offering her quiet encouragement the entire time.

Her shoulders finally began to relax a little, as her breath slowly returned to normal. Weller must have felt it too, because he started to loosen his hold on her, silently asking if she wanted to step away.

That was not what she wanted though. She'd missed it all so much. The luxury of his support, the warmth of his touch.

Jane thought back to earlier that day, how hard he'd hugged her when she finally made it back to the NYO. She'd been babbling apologies when he pulled her to him, believing her without question. But, at that point, she'd been so surprised by his actions and frantic with questions that there hadn't been time to enjoy the feeling of being in his arms.

Now, she could allow herself the comfort of it, everything she'd missed so much. So Jane tightened her grip on him, and Kurt responded by brushing his lips against her hair, so gently she could sense his smile.

"Are you okay?" he asked, so quiet it was mostly air.

Jane kept hugging him fiercely; all of her guilt and worry still trying to push through.

"I don't know," she said.

"How about you?"

She knew he would have taken it hard, not being there with the team and almost losing Reade and Patterson. He took his role as a leader to heart, even if it meant he sometimes cared too much and carried too much of it on his own.

Weller took a breath and exhaled audibly.

"I'm okay," he replied.

"It hurts. Losses always do. But we all made it through. That's what's important."

Jane looked up, wondering if she was hearing him right. The way he'd inflected the words had made it sound directed at her. Yet she was still a little surprised to be met with such an intense gaze.

"I was so worried, Jane," Kurt sputtered.

"There was no reason for Shepherd to let you live."

Oh.

She'd never considered that it was for him. That he needed this physical connection between them as much as she did. That he really would miss her if she was gone.

But she felt it now, and was starting to think it could actually be true.

"Thank you," Jane finally said.

"For believing in me."

It had been a long and dark road. But she was beginning to see some light. Especially when Weller tugged her even closer, grazing his lips against her temple as he whispered his response.

"Thank you. For coming back to me."

[ransomedrogue]

so.... what happened on that elevator ride? (spoiler - nothing smutty haha) anyhow, here are a couple extra scenes for 2.17... incredibly only a few days late this time :P 

2.17

"Jane, come with me please."

Jane looked up, wondering what was happening. She hadn't seen Weller since getting back to the NYO. First because he'd been on the helicopter, returning from Vermont, and then because she was being debriefed. She'd looked around for him after that but hadn't seen him anywhere. Which had been a bit disappointing - she had been looking forward to seeing him, especially after what had happened with Oliver.

Not that she had anything particular to say to Weller, it just felt important to check in with him after such a close call. But however she'd pictured the moment, it hadn't involved Kurt being so cryptic and serious as he led her to the elevator.

Weller didn't elaborate further on where they were going, even after they stepped into the elevator and he pressed the button for their destination. Standing next to him, Jane could feel how taut he was as his gaze focused in on her. It started to make her feel nervous, especially since they seemed to be headed to the zero division cell.

Had Roman done something while she'd been held captive?

Was Kurt just giving her a chance to say goodbye before he was sent off to a black site?

It would explain why he looked uncomfortable, like he didn't know what to say.

Jane gulped back the panic that arose with that thought and looked up at Weller. He still appeared a little grim and conflicted, which didn't help with the anxiety stirring in her mind.

Even though Kurt had been doing his best for Roman up until that point, she knew his power was limited. If Pellington had ordered him to send her brother to the CIA, there wasn't anything Weller could do except follow through on his threat to resign. Which she didn't want either; she couldn't imagine going on with the mission without him.

Her stomach began to flutter when Weller didn't say anything, giving her a long once-over instead. Jane was about to ask what was going on but felt the question get stuck in her throat as his stony blue eyes paused over the visible bruising on her face.

After the day she'd just had, the last thing she needed was more drama or bad news. Still, it would be nice to get a warning, if she was about to lose her brother.

"Is there something going on with Roman?"

Her voice was hesitant, like she was scared of the answer. But Weller's stern expression turned soft at her question, his lip twitching into a subtle crooked smile.

"Don't worry, he's fine. You'll see for yourself in a minute."

Jane exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her anxiety settling with Kurt's reassurance. She was sure he wouldn't lie to her about something like that.

"Are you okay? It looks like you took some hits," he added, his features now shifting into a small frown.

"Did you get checked out by medical?"

Jane smiled to herself, even as she tried to resist the way his concern made her cheeks flush. Outwardly, she managed to keep her features stoic, feigning annoyance as she replied with a sigh.

"Yes, I got cleared when we got back. It's just some scrapes and bruises."

Weller visibly relaxed, but his gaze remained stuck to her.

"What happened out there?" he asked.

"I read the report but I want to hear it from you."

Jane told him the story, trying to keep it short but Weller kept interjecting to ask for more details. He seemed particularly focused on what Oliver had done; or, more accurately, on everything he hadn't done.

"So he got you kidnapped and then withheld information from you?" he asked.

"Yeah, but he ended up getting us out of there," Jane replied, awkwardly feeling the need to defend Oliver even though he hadn't been much help throughout the day. And had then dumped her after she'd gotten them through the situation.

"If he hadn't offered the foundation's money…"

"If you hadn't given us the clue about where they were headed, they would have killed him as soon as the money was transferred."

She had known that was the likely outcome; it was why she'd been so desperate to get out of the van. Even though she would have probably been too late, Jane had hoped Oliver would have had the sense to delay as long as possible.

Thankfully, the FBI had gotten there in time to find him before the transfer was completed, while Oliver had been wrestling with the gunman. Letting Oliver get killed would have haunted her, even if the situation had been his fault, and he'd broken up with her afterwards.

"You did good out there," Weller said.

"You saved him, and those kids."

Jane tensed a little; she'd always felt a bit uneasy accepting praise. In her mind, it had been her duty - Oliver was a civilian and he'd been her charge, hers to protect. Yet somehow, Kurt's compliment made the ensuing breakup sting a little less.

She reflected on Zapata's words, and on how Weller still saw the best of her, despite everything they'd been through. It made her suspiciously warm inside, and she tried to smother the feeling with a dose of reality.

"I just did what I had to do," she muttered.

Weller clearly disagreed with her take, his expression sitting somewhere between amused and exasperated.

"It was a bad situation. Roman was pretty worried about you."

"I was too," he added, after a pause.

Another flash of warmth washed over her as Jane flicked her gaze up to meet Kurt's. She'd nearly forgotten what it was like to have people care about her. For so long, it had felt like she was just an asset to both sides, only worth what she could bring to the group. Lately though, things had really started to shift.

She remembered how Weller had lost his temper and irrationally refused to work with Cade, all because the former Sandstorm operative had tried to kill her once. Plus, how supportive he'd been about her brother, even though wiping Roman's memory had just added a plethora of problems to his life. Not to mention the way it had felt when he'd shyly declared one of his favourite things about her.

"I was fine," she protested, feeling the need to deflect his concern. As good as it felt, the memory of being completely alone was far too close. She needed to stay self-sufficient, she'd already learned how quickly things could change for her, with the FBI.

As if he was reading her mind, Weller shook his head a little.

"I knew you'd be okay," he said.

"It just reminded me too much of…"

He paused, a dark emotion fluttering through his eyes, before continuing.

"Not knowing where you were. Knowing you were out there with no one watching your back."

Of course she'd felt it too, the aloneness of the double agent life she'd led for so long. Especially being out there with Oliver, someone she couldn't count on. But at least she'd known that the team would be working hard looking for her; not too long ago, that was something she hadn't been entirely sure about.

"Sorry, I know it's selfish, when you were the one out there on your own. But I hated it."

A flash of insight shot through her, realizing that he'd been worried from the start; despite the anger and distrust between them. Back then she'd only felt the coldness, and thought it meant he didn't care. But in hindsight, she was starting to see that Kurt had built that barrier to protect himself from his strongly conflicted emotions.

"I'm just glad you're okay," he continued.

"Oliver too."

The last bit was grumbled, and obviously an afterthought. Jane grinned to herself, realizing Weller's low opinion of her date matched her own. She could have possibly gotten over Oliver's omission of information and lack of tactical ability, but she was already glad to be done with him if her actions that day had scared him off. Especially with the way Kurt was standing too close, and looking at her intently.

"Yeah. Me too," she replied.

"Even if he broke up with me after all that."

She hadn't exactly planned on dropping that fact, but the look on Weller's face immediately made it worth it. He was nakedly bewildered and offended for her, staring at her as he took in what she'd said.

"I think I scared him," she added, when Weller still didn't say anything.

Kurt's lip tugged into a satisfied smirk, his expression pleased, even a bit smug.

"That guy's an idiot, Jane," he declared.

"You deserve someone who loves all of you."

The way he was looking at her, Jane was sure, for just one second, that he was trying to tell her something. But then the elevator dinged its arrival and she fell back to reality, realizing she was probably making it all up in her head.

He was just being kind, saying something nice after she'd been dumped. Nothing else about his actions indicated anything other than friendship between them.

Jane took a deep breath, following Weller towards Roman's cell. She was still a little nervous about what lay ahead. But she also felt reassured, just being with Kurt. Whatever was about to happen, she trusted him to have her back.

###

About two minutes after he was served the subpoena, Weller's phone predictably blew up. Patterson was the first to call, but texts and calls were flying in from Zapata too.

He did his best to reassure Patterson, telling her they would meet early the next day to talk about it. Then he did the same with Tasha, telling her to get some sleep and come prepared to deal with it in the morning. There really wasn't anything else they could do at the moment; not when they didn't know the specifics of the investigation.

Once Weller was done with the calls, his own mind was still a jumble of questions and emotions. Anger and anxiety were both there in equal parts as he stood there only half-listening while Nas made degrading comments about Matthew Weitz.

"Look, I'll see you in the morning," she said, finishing her tirade.

"Try to take your own advice and get some rest. You're going to need it."

Weller nodded as Nas walked off, knowing that he wasn't likely to sleep much at all. Even if nothing could be solved that night, his mind would be full of questions and possibilities.

He was about to put his phone away when he realized Jane hadn't tried to contact him. It was very unlikely she hadn't received a subpoena yet, especially because she'd just taken Roman to the safe house with her for the first time. She would have been easy to find and serve with the papers, so why hadn't she called to ask about it?

Weller dialled Jane's number, barely realizing that he was holding his breath as it rang twice before she answered.

"Hi," she said, sounding unsure.

"Uh, is something going on? I just got a subpoena."

"Yeah, we all did," Weller replied.

"Don't worry, it's just a BS political move by that asshole Weitz," he added.

"We're meeting in the morning to talk about it."

Jane paused, and he could almost hear her anxiety through the phone. Again, he wondered why she hadn't called as soon as she'd received the summons.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know everyone got one," she said.

"This must be my fault. I was the one working for Sandstorm."

Weller froze, realization dawning over him. She'd been thinking she was alone in it; that it was all on her. With Roman there too, a physical reminder of what she was trying to protect.

No wonder she hadn't called right away. She'd probably been prepping herself for the worst before possibly confirming her fears.

"No, this is not about you," Kurt replied. "It's just a power play by Weitz to look good in front of Congress."

"So don't worry about it for now. We'll deal with it tomorrow."

Jane exhaled audibly, taking a beat too long before answering.

"Okay," she muttered. "Thanks for calling. See you in the morning."

She hung up immediately after, not even giving him a chance to reply. Which was weird, but she obviously had a lot on her mind. Not to mention, it was her first night at the safe house with Roman.

Still, Kurt couldn't help ruminating on how guilty Jane always felt, whenever things went wrong. Especially when she'd done the best she could, in an impossible situation. It was heartbreaking that she still felt like she had to face everything on her own.

Weller tried to shake off that thought as he walked to his vehicle and started driving home. He reminded himself that there was nothing they could do about it until the next day, and that he'd be more mentally prepared to deal with everything if he didn't stress about it all night. But he couldn't stop thinking about the way Jane had ended the call, and why she hadn't called him after getting the subpoena.

Frustrated with himself, the situation, and everything in between, Kurt drove past his usual turn and kept going until he was at the safe house. He parked behind Roman's detail, then sat there for a moment, deciding what to do.

Everything looked fine; there was no reason for him to be there. Still, Weller got out of the car and walked up to the door, wondering all the while what he was going to say.

Jane answered the door with a confused look.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, sounding a little on edge.

"No, everything's okay," Weller replied quickly, hoping to calm her. But then he couldn't come up with any words to explain his presence at her door and felt the moment getting awkward before he stammered out a question.

"Um… do you want to walk?"

Jane was clearly surprised but her lip twitched upwards.

"Uh, yeah," she said.

"Just let me tell Roman and grab a coat."

Jane stepped away from the door, giving him a minute to come up with a reason to be there. But he still hadn't thought of anything to say by the time she was back, except that he'd spent the entire day worried about her and had felt the urge to check in. Which was far too emotionally honest for him to express, so instead he just didn't say anything at all.

They started walking, with Jane looking over at him, obviously waiting for him to explain why he'd abruptly shown up at her door. But now that he was there with her, Kurt was completely jammed up, reliving all of his emotions from that day.

Finding out she'd been taken, then worrying about her getting executed by the kidnappers. No matter how capable he knew her to be, the thought of her being alone in that situation had clawed into him.

Then there had been the pure relief from hearing that she'd been found alive, and whatever that feeling was that had stopped his heart when she thanked him for getting Roman out. The way she had looked at him, in elated disbelief and bursting with gratitude. It had taken all his self-control to keep things professional in the moment and pretend he'd done it solely for Roman's well-being.

All of that flooded through him in an instant, reminding him of how much she made him feel on a daily basis. It was impossible to deny, despite how hard he'd been trying.

"So, what's up?" Jane asked, after giving him ample time to say something.

She sounded apprehensive, as if waiting for him to drop a bomb on her.

"Is this about the subpoena? If it's something I did, I want to know. I need to be prepared."

Weller wished he could give her a real answer but he had no idea what Weitz had in mind. It was all ridiculous as far as he was concerned, but of course Jane felt less secure due to her position. She didn't know that he would protect her, no matter the cost. And he wasn't sure how to say so, without guaranteeing too much.

"No, I don't know anything more about that. We'll just have to see what happens tomorrow," he replied.

"But none of this is going to fall on you. I'm the one leading this operation."

Jane gave him a skeptical look, but she didn't argue.

"So why are you here then?"

He still didn't quite have an answer, but Weller did the best he could.

"You sounded rattled on the phone," he said, finally deciding that a version of the truth was the easiest option.

"I wanted to check you were okay."

It sounded stupid when he said it out loud, but Jane's demeanour immediately shifted, her shoulders softening as she replied.

"I'm fine, it's just been a long day," she said.

"I still can't believe you let Roman out. I don't think I can ever thank you enough."

Weller shook his head at her gratitude, trying to dismiss it even as it set his heart on fire.

"It was the right thing to do. It wasn't good for him to be in there, you helped me see that. And he wants to be a different person, just the same as you. We need to give him the chance."

The green in Jane's eyes was glimmering with gold, and he resisted the urge to pull her close. The desire to kiss her was nearly overwhelming, so Kurt wrestled his gaze back down to his shoes. He'd gone there to check on her mental well-being, not add to her emotional load.

"You've given me so many chances. I just don't want to mess it all up."

It punched him in the gut, whenever Jane offered a glimpse of her vulnerability. She'd already been through so much; including all the animosity he'd dumped on her while she was in a physically and mentally precarious position.

"Jane. We've all made mistakes. But you've risked everything to help us take down Sandstorm. No matter how it all turns out, I know you've done your best for the team, and for Roman."

A ghost of a smile twitched at her lips, and again Weller forced himself to stop fixating on her mouth.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he promised.

"No matter what I have to do."

[ransomedrogue]

last one of my post-hiatus fic dump and I’m putting my faves together - lots of H/C and a splash of UST.  Plus... an extra post-sleepover POV switch :P

2.13

By the time he got free of the rope, Weller was a steaming mix of soreness, sweat, guilt and anger. His head was pounding too, and he felt both hollow and nauseous.

Watching a man die was always an emotional shock, even after so many years in his line of work. Especially seeing someone be killed in cold blood, by the criminal he was hunting. It made him feel both conflicted about being left alive, and guilty about getting the old man killed.

Storming out of the extended care facility, Weller stewed in his questions. Despite getting a chair slammed into his head and losing consciousness for awhile, he clearly remembered the rest of the evening with Sean Clark.

What was the Truman protocol? And what did Shepherd want from him?

Kurt shuddered, remembering the way she'd touched him, and insisting that they were alike. Even though he knew it wasn't true, the insinuation still hurt, especially after what he'd found out that day about Shepherd paying for his scholarships. She had obviously seen something in him way back then, enough to invest in his life. He wanted to believe it was all just in her head, part of her psychopathic terrorist delusions. Yet it had triggered a flood of self doubt, making him wonder if he was only in his position because of her intervention.

Normally, Weller would go home and stew by himself; drinking scotch until he fell asleep from a mix of exhaustion and alcohol. But the thought of being alone with what had happened made him uncomfortable and Kurt knew he needed to tell someone right away.

If it had happened just a couple days ago, the obvious person would have been Nas. Even now, after she'd broken off their relationship, it made the most sense to go to her with what had just happened. She was the NSA insider and their expert on Sandstorm, not to mention his co-lead. But he didn't call her, or anyone else. Instead, Weller drove back to the city, despite the throbbing in his head and the slight blur in his vision.

When he ended up in front of the safe house, he was only the slightest bit surprised. Weller had spent the entire ride ruminating about what had happened, stirring in a volatile mixture of shame and guilt. So he hadn't quite consciously decided on where he was going, and yet, there was no doubt in it either. He needed to talk to someone and, somehow she was again becoming the person he wanted to tell, when things happened to him.

He sat across from her place for a long time, trying to ascertain if she was still awake. It was late, past two am, and the thought of waking her made him hesitate. Then it was followed by a flash of anxiety flooding through him, making him question what the hell he was doing there at all.

Weller's hand reached for the ignition, with full intent to turn the engine on and drive away. And yet, he found himself pulling the keys out, both his heart and his head pounding as he strode up to her door.

He knocked before the questions returned and she was there nearly instantly, despite the hour. The wavy rumple of her hair, plus her eye-catching tank top and boxer shorts pyjama combo, suggested she had been in bed though.

Kurt was goggling at her, wondering if she always came to the door late at night without getting dressed at all. Not that it was any of his business, except it was making it difficult for him to form any words.

Thankfully, Jane took one look at him and didn't wait for him to explain why he was there. Reaching for his forehead, she frowned in dismay.

"Your head," she said. "What happened?"

It was at the tip of his tongue, all of it. But the throbbing in his brain and the hammering of his heart was interfering with his ability to put words together, especially now that all the adrenaline had coursed out of his body.

"I'm okay," he grunted instead, as Jane stepped towards him, reaching out to touch the cut on his forehead.

He wasn't though. And even though it made him feel pathetic and immoral, he wanted her to see through his words.

The look she gave him was equal parts disbelief and concern, with just a hint of amusement. Running her thumb lightly over his bloody temple, she then studied his eyes carefully before letting her hand drop down, reaching lightly at his fingertips.

"Come in," she said, with a little tug.

She led him in and sat him down on the couch, then pulled the coffee table over so she could sit across from him. Weller felt pinned down by her gaze, and he wondered what she saw.

"That looks pretty bad," she murmured, reaching out to touch the oozing wound on his head.

"What happened?"

The throbbing had become so incessant that Weller was having a hard time keeping his thoughts straight. And it was no longer just coming from his head – his ribs had seemingly taken another beating too, just after he'd nearly broken them during the last mission.

Kurt groaned, thinking about falling to the floor unconscious and then getting wrangled into a chair by a goon. It should have been no surprise that it now hurt just to breathe deeply, but he'd been so caught up in his anger that he'd attributed the pain in his chest to emotional distress. Now though, it was becoming clear that he'd taken some hits after being knocked out.

"Sean Clark is dead," he managed, getting the worst of it out first.

"Shepherd killed him because we found him."

Jane's eyes grew big, staring at him in confusion.

"Shepherd did this to you?"

Weller nodded, looking down at his feet.

"It was my fault. I shouldn't have gone there again."

"No," Jane replied firmly. "All of this is on Shepherd."

"But…"

The what ifs kept running through his head.

What if I hadn't gone back?

What if I'd never met Shepherd?

What if she hadn't intervened in my life?

"No buts. This is not your fault, Kurt."

Weller nodded. Not because he believed her, but because he wanted to. Jane took his hand in hers, gripping it tight. She was frowning, and all of a sudden he had a flash of insight.

It was the middle of the night and he'd shown up at her door, hurt and needy. After he'd watched her suffer on her own, ostracized by all of them. How many times had she been hurt and needing someone those past months? She'd never shown up at his place, asking him to put aside his feelings and help her.

Suddenly he felt like a total jerk, completely awash in shame. If he wanted to wallow in his hurt, he should be doing it alone.

"I should go," Weller said, pushing to his feet.

But even before he was standing, her hand was at his shoulder, lightly pushing him back down to the couch. And of course he didn't fight it; not when it was exactly what he had hoped for.

###

She'd only begun to digest the fact that Weller had met Shepherd that night, and that he'd been at her mercy when she murdered a man. No wonder he'd looked so lost when she answered the door. Jane shuddered, thinking about what he'd just been through and how guilty he must feel.

"No buts," she said. "This is not your fault, Kurt."

Weller was usually so stoic, so solidly put together. But lately she'd glimpsed his vulnerable side, and now it was in full view. Which wasn't surprising, of course. Finding out about Shepherd's role in his life, how she'd been paying for his scholarships; then watching her kill a man so coldly, being unable to stop it. It was like a worst case scenario for him, emotionally.

Jane was just thinking how thankful she was that he'd come seeking help, instead of trying to deal with it all on his own, when Weller abruptly tried to stand up.

"I should go," he said, like she would let him leave while still bleeding and broken.

Jane reached out and gently pushed him back down to the couch, leaving her hand on his shoulder to ensure he stayed put.

"You're not going anywhere," she said, semi-sternly.

She half expected him to argue about it, but Weller just flashed her a conflicted look as he gave in and settled back onto the couch. In it, Jane saw a potent mix of guilt, anger, and fear that made her heart clench with empathy.

Nobody else had ever made her feel so deeply. And for a moment, the intensity of being with Weller stood out sharply against the backdrop of the rest of the evening.

It had been surprisingly fun to go out with Oliver. Mostly Jane was pleased to have survived one entire 'normal' date with a regular person and glad she had taken Roman's advice to do something that she chose. She had even accepted an invitation for another date; if only to take her mind off the case for a night, as well as get some more experience at normal life.

Not that she didn't like Oliver. He was intelligent and attractive, easy enough to talk to and get along with too. But what she felt about Weller was a completely different animal. Especially at that moment, with him injured and vulnerable, baring his soul to her in the middle of the night.

Then there had been the incident earlier in the day, when he had stood in front of that speeding vehicle. Her heart had been in her throat, every nerve in her body itching to launch herself out of the vehicle at him. She couldn't imagine ever feeling that strongly about Oliver, even in a life or death situation. Paradoxically, watching Weller nearly get run over was what had made her follow through with going on the date. All that pent up emotion - she had needed to let it out. And even though she was friends again with Kurt, it seemed like they would never go beyond that.

But now, like every time they were alone together, she wondered if that was true. He had come to her, after all. And now he was still there, despite everything that had kept them apart.

He was hurting. Of course she wasn't going to let him leave. Especially not while he was bleeding and likely concussed.

Once she was sure he wasn't going to get up again, Jane's hand drifted upwards from his shoulder, sliding up his neck until her thumb was physically examining the cut on his temple.

"What happened?" she asked.

Weller gave her a sheepish look.

"Uh. I think I got hit with a chair."

"Did you get knocked out?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "They tied me to the chair while I was out."

Looking at him closely, Jane realized how gingerly he was sitting, and how shallow his breaths were. Picturing the situation, she guessed that he had probably fallen on the bruised ribs he'd just sustained the day before, injuring them even further.

"Your ribs look sore," she commented.

Weller frowned, and she could see him trying to breathe more casually. She wondered if he was actually in denial about his injuries, or if he was just pretending for her benefit.

Either way, there wasn't much she would be able to do if he'd broken his ribs. But Jane noted that he didn't disagree with her statement, and she made a mental note to check on that after she'd cleaned him up.

"Sit tight, I'll be right back," she said, giving him a stern look.

By the time she'd returned with first aid supplies, Weller was slumped into the couch, eyes closed and his teeth gritted in pain as he hugged himself tight.

"Hey," Jane said, the one word dripping with concern.

She put the supplies down in a hurry and reached to shake him on the shoulder, but by that time his eyelids had slid open.

"Are you okay? Do I need to take you to the doctor?"

Weller shook his head.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

"Really? It looks like you took a bad hit."

Kurt sighed, then grunted as he tried to sit up straighter.

"I might have hit the deck pretty hard," he mumbled.

She wasn't surprised about what had happened, but she hadn't expected him to admit to it.

"You need to get checked out."

"It's not that bad."

Jane shook her head at his stubbornness, and decided it wasn't worth it to fight him on it. If he was seriously injured, she would deal with that later.

"Will you at least let me get the blood off of you?" she asked.

When Weller didn't object, Jane smiled a little and got to work wiping the semi-dried blood off his forehead. While she cleaned up the cut and applied antiseptic, his eyelids drifted down again, but this time he seemed more relaxed, less in pain.

After wiping his skin dry, Jane closed the gash with steri-strips, then smoothed it over carefully before sitting back to inspect her work. Weller opened his eyes as she was caressing his brow, and she was met with an intensity of blue that sent shudder through her spine.

"How's your head?" she asked, in an attempt to refocus her mind.

Kurt continued to gaze at her intently as he considered her question, then blinked a few times before finally answering.

"It's good now," he sputtered.

"Thanks for cleaning me up. I'm sorry for showing up so late. I really should go."

He tried to get up again, but struggled to push himself upright, wincing at the movement. As he inhaled in advance of another attempt, Jane wondered if he'd let her leave, concussed and in pain. Quickly, she came to the conclusion that he would have already forced her to see a doctor. Even when things had been at their worst, he'd remained a little overprotective.

"It's late and you have a concussion. You shouldn't be driving anywhere."

Weller frowned.

"I'll be fine," he grumbled.

"Yeah. And how do you think I'd feel if you got into an accident on the way home?"

For a split second he looked angry and she expected him to storm out. But then his expression turned into a mix of exhaustion and despair.

"Really bad," he said.

"You'd feel like this."

She sometimes forgot he was so heartbreaking; but lately she was remembering more and more. Jane offered him a sad empathetic smile, then reached out and took his hand in hers.

"Come on," she said.

"Let's get you some sleep."

This time Weller didn't argue as she pulled him off the couch; was surprisingly docile as she led him to the extra room. If she wasn't so worried about both his mental and physical state, the thought of having him stay over would have been full of nervous anticipation. But, as it was, Jane was just glad to know he was safe.

"Goodnight," she said, after seeing him into the room.

Weller still looked a little displeased at the situation, but he managed a sheepish crooked grin.

"Thanks for dealing with me. I'm sorry for showing up like this."

She didn't tell him it wasn't necessary to thank her, that she would always be there for him. It felt like too much, considering they were just getting comfortable with each other again.

But, in her heart, Jane hoped that it would always be like that, that he would always come to her. And even as she left the room, her mind lingered there, wondering if Kurt could possibly feel the same.

###

Weller woke up to a thundering headache and complete confusion as to where he was. For an instant before he was awake, he panicked, thinking he was tied to a chair again. But then he realized he was comfortably dozing under a heavy duvet, and memories of the previous night came flooding back.

He had slept over at Jane's, in the most innocent sense of the word. But at the moment, realizing that it was Jane he could hear in the shower, his presence there felt illicit and conflicting.

For a brief second, still somewhere between conscious states, his imagination fired up; resulting in a problem he hadn't experienced in some time. Thankfully though, as soon as Weller tried to get up and deal with the issue, the pain that shot through his body quickly resolved the situation.

Briefly, he assessed his injuries, groaning as he attempted a few deep breaths. His ribs had taken a beating, along with his head. But, thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken, and his only concussion symptom was a pounding head. Which was pretty lucky, considering he'd been at Shepherd's mercy.

Weller growled internally, hating that his place in her plan had saved him yet again. Combined with his new knowledge that she'd also paid for his education, it made him feel like his life's course had been controlled by a madwoman.

He was falling into the same anxiety cycle he'd been in the day before, this time made worse by the physical limitations of his breathing. Frustrated with himself in every way, Kurt pushed himself into a seated position, his legs hanging off the bed. He needed to get to work and make some progress on the situation or he was going to lose his mind. But then he heard the shower turn off and Weller froze, unable to resist the picture that shot into his mind.

Footsteps passed by his room along with a fresh herbal scent. The smell made his chest flutter, especially when Jane stalled at his cracked door. He pictured her there, in just a towel listening at the door and kept himself glued to the bed, in fear of doing anything impulsive.

His desire to leave was instantly quashed though; the twin aromas of brewing coffee and Jane's bath products paralyzing him with false intimacy. Listening in on her morning routine made him feel like a voyeur, especially considering his body's reactions. But it also made him wonder if it could ever be, if he could ever in her life that way.

He'd been resisting the thought for so long, doing everything he could to stay far from that possibility. Pushing her away with his anger, holding onto his sense of betrayal as best he could. Even letting his fling with Nas go on for far too long, so he was otherwise occupied. But, sitting there in that bed, listening to Jane's footsteps returning, there was no more avoiding it.

Weller took a deep breath, hoping to calm either his pounding heart or his throbbing head. But by the time she knocked on the door, he was still sitting on the edge of the bed, telling himself to get his shit together.

"Uh, come in," Kurt said, only to regret it right away when he remembered he was still just wearing his boxer shorts.

Jane stepped in and eyed him thoroughly as he sat there, frozen to the mattress. She was a bit flushed from the shower, and still wafting that irresistible woodsy scent. He could no longer hear anything other than his pulse, and all his worries evaporated as he fixated on her presence.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, while finishing her critical once over.

Weller did his best to appear relaxed, even though the tension in his neck told him he was failing miserably at it. Still, he managed to look her in the eye and mutter out a lie.

"I'm good," he said, trying to sound tougher than the pain in his chest would allow.

"Thanks for… Thanks for letting me stay."

He had nearly thanked her for taking care of him, but the words had gotten stuck in his throat, triggered by his shame of not having taken care of her. So, instead, he'd dithered out a less personal thanks, all while wincing internally at how awkwardly it had come out.

Jane stepped closer, giving him a quizzical look.

"Of course," she replied.

"You were in rough shape."

He remembered showing up at her door covered in blood, and all her gentle ministrations. Which only made his heart rate increase further, especially with her still standing there, eyeing him carefully.

"Yeah, I feel a lot better now," Weller fibbed, hoping to dial down the intensity of the interaction.

"I should go. I need to go home and get changed before work."

Kurt pushed to his feet, thinking that the action would spur Jane to leave the room and give him some emotional space. But the quick movement immediately made him lightheaded and queasy, causing him to teeter precariously as dark dots swirled in his vision.

Weller had just enough time to mentally swear at himself for being so stupid before Jane rushed forward to steady him. She put one hand on his hip and the other between his shoulder blades while Kurt continued to curse inwardly at the situation. Not only had he acted unprofessionally by showing up at her door in the middle of the night, he'd only made things worse by pretending to be fine. And now he was mostly naked and the tactile sensation of her fingers on his skin was making him think inappropriate things.

"Hey, take it slow," she said, as her thumb traced the top of his hip bone.

Considering he couldn't even manage a deep breath and his vision was only just getting back online, Weller didn't argue. Instead, he stood there absorbing every aspect of Jane's proximity, watching intently as her hand slid off his hip and slowly made its way up to his forehead, after a long pause on the purple of his chest.

He opened his mouth to protest, but slammed it shut as her fingers drifted along his hairline and gently checked the cut on his temple; any desire to put up a macho front instantly quashed by how fucking good it felt to be touched by her.

"Better?"

Her eyes were green gold, radiating with that distinctive Jane-intensity. Kurt could barely exhale, much less formulate an intelligible response.

"Yeah," he managed. "Thanks."

Jane let go of him warily, her hands hovering until he was completely steady on his feet. Then, still giving him a skeptical look, she passed over his rumpled clothes from the previous day.

"Get a move on it then," she said, half-seriously.

"Time to get dressed."

She stepped out of the room then, leaving Weller some space to get a hold of himself as he struggled into his clothes. Putting on his socks was the hardest part, reminding him how rib injuries made everything painful. But at least he hadn't needed to call for assistance – that would have been too pathetic, especially considering how needy he'd already been.

Once he was dressed, Weller walked out of the room and found Jane waiting for him in the kitchen with two travel mugs. Passing him a cup, she dangled his keys in front of his face, but then palmed them as he tried to grab them.

"I'm driving," she said.

"You don't have to be in this early," Kurt argued, merely in an attempt to save face. The thought of driving through morning traffic was unappealing, even when he wasn't dealing with a major headache.

Jane rolled her eyes, her facial expression telling him that she thought he was being obtuse. Weller realized that she was often at the NYO earlier than him, ever since she'd come back. In fact, it almost seemed like she didn't sleep at all – which also explained why she'd been awake in the middle of the night. Cursing to himself, Kurt wondered why he'd never thought about it before and made a mental note to check in on her more often.

"I'm driving," she repeated firmly.

"So stop arguing and let's go."

Weller gave in, hiding the grin that threatened to emerge as Jane took command of the situation. As much as he wanted to be in control of everything, it felt comforting to let Jane take care of things for a bit, especially when it all hurt so much. That, and he loved the sly satisfied smile she flashed him when he finally acquiesced.

So he let himself relax and focus on his breathing as Jane drove him home and then back to work. By the time they arrived at the NYO, Kurt had nearly forgotten that they didn't usually travel together in the morning – it had just all felt so right.

Of course, they were then standing far too close together as they stepped out of the elevator into SIOC, sipping twin coffees when they nearly ran right into Nas walking by. The NSA agent turned and flashed him a judgemental look, which made Weller quickly realize how the situation looked.

Kurt sighed inwardly, reminding himself that she was the one that had broken it off with him. And looking over at Jane, he remembered sharply why it would never have lasted.

"We need to meet in my office," he said.

"Something happened last night."

[ransomedrogue]

almost caught up... skipping a few to get to 2.5, cause it’s awesome! And, of course, some Allie POV included, because she’s rad.  

2.5

The air was filled with gun residue and bullets when Allie felt a hard impact in her left thigh and groaned at the unmistakable pain of being shot.

Her thoughts immediately flew to the baby, though thankfully she'd been injured in the leg. Still, Allie couldn't believe that Weller had been proven right, and she had to admit she was scared.

Quickly though, Jane was at her side, assuring her that she was going to be okay while applying an emergency tourniquet. Which immediately made Allie feel calmer and focused on getting out of the stairwell.

As they started moving, Allie did her best to limp along while Patrick supported her. It was awkward and painful, but once they got going, urgency and adrenaline drowned out most of the pain.

"Allie's been shot" Jane shouted through comms, as they got out of the stairwell.

"What? How badly? Allie?!" Weller hollered back, desperation already in his voice.

"I'm going to be okay, Kurt," she replied, trying her best to sound convincing.

Allie closed her eyes and prayed that he wouldn't do something stupid. Kurt could be so irrational when he was worried.

On the other hand, she wasn't prone to panic, not after her years with both the FBI and the US Marshal Service. But still, Allie knew things weren't looking good. Blood was gushing out of her leg and there were too many assailants in the building. It was not looking like they were going to make it out alive with the tapes.

Things were moving quickly around her now, with Jane taking charge of the situation and getting them out of the stairwell and into an industrial room. Patrick carried Allie as best he could, before setting her back down on the ground.

"We have to get out of here," she grunted. "I'm pregnant. It's Kurt's."

The words spilled out of her mouth without much forethought; but the impact of them made both Jane and Allie flinch emotionally. She didn't exactly know what had happened between Kurt and the tattooed consultant he'd been so obviously attracted to. But she did know it had hurt him, and clearly it had hurt Jane as well.

Jane looked stunned for a moment but then hid it well by turning to go get some supplies. Then, she came back, more empathetic and determined than ever. Somehow Allie recognized that the other woman would do anything for Kurt Weller, including protect his unborn child, despite her own feelings about the situation. Most women would be devastated or angry but Jane somehow took it all in stride. No wonder she'd always liked Jane, despite her effect on Kurt.

There was still too much blood coming out of her wound and Allie started to feel her head swim. She fought to stay with it - she had to do everything she could to survive.

Dimly, Allie heard Jane asking her about the baby and it helped her keep a tether on consciousness.

"Hang in there one second. Almost there, Allie," Jane said encouragingly.

"This is going to hurt a little bit, okay, but we have to stop the bleeding okay?"

Pain exploded in her leg before Jane's warning even sunk in. Allie screamed, unable to hold it in. Dimly she heard Weller yelling incoherently on comms and she hoped again that he wouldn't do anything stupid.

After that, everything started happening far too fast. The enemy was closing in on them and she couldn't walk. Then Patrick emptied the case and went off on a suicide mission, making all logic disappear.

She'd known him since they were kids. She couldn't just let him die there.

But then there was Jane, talking her down and getting some sense into her.

"This is our only chance."

"You need to start thinking about your baby."

Obviously she was right but it didn't make it any easier. Still, Allie stopped resisting and let Jane pull her into a shoulder carry position. Even with Patrick's sacrifice, they were in a precarious situation.

Jane started running and Allie could hear the effort it was taking for the other woman to carry her weight down the hall. Her wound was throbbing but adrenaline was masking most of the pain as Jane hauled her away from danger.

It was then that Allie heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming from behind them, and she knew they weren't going to make it. They weren't close enough to the exit and Jane was already overexerting herself.

They were about to die.

Allie braced herself, expecting to feel more bullets tear through her at any moment. Her mind flashed to Kurt, how badly he was going to take it. Losing her, the baby and Jane all at once, while under his watch. She didn't think he would ever recover.

The gunmen behind them were just rounding the corner when the door in front of them flew open. Allie turned her head, expecting to see more of the enemy, and almost didn't believe it when Weller and Nas were there to take down the assailants behind them.

She'd been so sure they weren't going to make it. That she'd screwed everything up by pressuring Weller to bring her on this case.

But when Kurt pulled her into his arms and held her to his chest protectively, it flushed away all the panic.

"What took you so long?" she asked.

The look he gave her was overflowing with silent emotion and she could see that he was still close to panic, even though they were all finally safe.

"I'm sorry. I should never have…"

"Kurt, there's nothing to be sorry about."

Allie tried to tell him she was okay but Weller just bundled her against him and ignored all her words as he rushed her out the building.

The paramedics were already there when he brought her out of the building and Weller rushed over, telling them five times that she was pregnant as he gently placed her on the gurney. The EMTs somehow managed to not roll their eyes began tending to Allie immediately. Weller continued to hover, as close as he could. Which normally would have annoyed her, but this time it felt good to have him there.

When they were finally ready to take her to the hospital, Kurt was still right there, telling her he'll be there with her all the way. It was a new side to him, so attentive and emotional. Of course it had been a pretty dire situation. But then again, he'd been worried before anything had happened; infuriatingly telling her she should take herself out of the field.

Glancing up, Weller still looked like he was about to have an aneurysm as the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance. Allie grinned to herself despite everything that had just happened.

He might have had some misgivings about being a dad. But there was no doubt that Kurt Weller would already do anything for his kid.

###

"I want our child to see how much I love what I do," Allie said.

"That I can kick ass and be an awesome mom. I want our kid to be proud, of both of us.

Rationally Weller wanted that too. But after Allie had told him she was having their baby, he had become full of anxiety. Then everything had gone wrong during the mission, and he had completely lost his shit.

Even now, Kurt was still a little wound up; despite having been at the hospital for hours, waiting for Allie to get out of surgery and recovery. There had been no real reason for him to stay the entire time - he'd been told early on that the baby was fine and Allie would be too. Yet he'd been worried that something bad would happen, especially if he were to leave.

The feeling lingered as Weller leaned down to kiss Allie on top of her head - he couldn't help thinking that he'd fail his unborn child somehow. Especially since he'd almost screwed everything up that day and gotten them all killed before his baby was even born. He wasn't exactly proud of that. No wonder he worried about being a bad father. It could be genetic, after all.

"I'm sorry about today. I messed up. I couldn't think straight."

Allie gave him an appraising look, and Weller waited for her to give him shit about nearly getting himself killed. But instead she ended up nodding, as if she understood.

"Yeah well. Jane had to set my head right too," she said, a little sheepishly.

Kurt frowned. He hadn't heard that part on comms, it must have been while he was running and only able to hear the pounding of both his feet and his heart.

"What do you mean? What happened to O'Malley?"

Allie sighed, clearly still upset about what had occurred. Even if O'Malley had been a career criminal, obviously he'd meant something to her.

"Patrick bought us the time to escape," she said. "He sacrificed himself for me and I wanted to try and stop him."

It hurt to hear, that O'Malley had played a part in saving Allie and the baby. Weller felt like he should have been the one there protecting them, and that he'd nearly made a deadly error in letting them get separated.

"Jane told me it was our only chance and I had to think about the baby. I could tell that was all she was focused on, which finally knocked some sense into me."

Weller frowned at the information Allie was presenting, again upset that he'd left her in such a vulnerable position. She shouldn't have been making life or death decisions while pregnant and badly wounded.

"That was too close, Allie," he muttered.

"Yeah, it was," she replied.

It was the first time Allie had admitted to any of the fear she must have felt; he could see her tense up as the memory flashed through her mind. Weller reached over to squeeze her hand again and was surprised when she curled her fingers into his tightly.

"I don't know what happened between you and Jane, and I know you don't want to talk about it. You didn't see her though, when I told her the baby's yours. It obviously hurt, but it just made her doubly determined to save us."

"She was willing to die for us, Kurt. She did it for you."

Weller felt stunned as the truth of her words rang in his head. He hadn't really thought much about Jane, up until Allie had mentioned her. He'd been too busy fixating on the health of Allie and the baby. Plus, thinking about what had almost happened made his entire body taut with anxiety.

Now, Kurt thought back to pulling Jane aside and demanding that she protect Allie. She'd seemed confused, or maybe a bit put off with the intensity of his instructions. But of course she'd risked her own life to do as he'd commanded. It was Jane, after all.

Weller froze at that thought and did his best to put it aside. It made him feel a little queasy, realizing how much faith he'd put in Jane. After keeping her at a distance and harping on the fact that he didn't trust her. He would not have wanted anyone else there, protecting his unborn baby.

She would have died to save his kid. Even after everything he'd put her through, everything he'd let happen to her.

"Have you talked to her?" Allie asked. "I still need to tell her thanks."

Weller gave her a stricken look and Allie sighed, shaking her head in mock exasperation.

"Go," she said.

Kurt nodded and gave Allie's hand one more squeeze before hurrying out the door.

He had to go find Jane.

###

Jane walked out of the locker room with an aching heart; barely able to blink her tears away as Patterson interrupted her reverie to tell her the bad news about the ring.

Just another dead end – that was nothing new. Her entire existence was such a black hole and it wasn't like she had much hope of a future.

Not like Kurt, with a baby on the way.

Thinking about it was still like an emotional lightening strike. The tiniest bit of her wanted to smile at the idea of Weller having a kid. She really had always thought he'd make a great dad. Had even once imagined it possible he'd want to have a baby with her.

Of course nothing could be further from reality those days. Jane considered herself lucky he seemed to now accept her presence without anger. They were building some form of trust again. But it was a slow and difficult process that constantly broke her down.

She needed to move on, but didn't exactly know how. But then the card was in her pocket and Jane called it on a whim. At least it would be a momentary distraction; an attempt to live her own life for once.

The call went to voicemail and Jane left a message, feeling awkward and cringing internally. She had just put away her phone when it buzzed with a new text, from an unidentified number.

'Hey thanks for saving my life today. Would love it if you could come by for a debrief. I'd come to you but they won't let me leave.'

A little surprised, Jane smiled to herself. Somehow, she still like Allie. Despite wondering when the baby had been conceived – before or after her descent into CIA hell.

Jane shook off the thought and headed to the hospital, determined not to be upset by everything she'd learned that day. When she got there and located the right room, she heard Allie's voice coming through the open door.

"You need to stop worrying," she groaned. "Go home and have a drink, Kurt. Something to take the edge off."

Not expecting Weller to be there and unsure how to proceed, Jane knocked tentatively on the door.

"Perfect. That's probably Jane. So you need to go now."

"Fine," Kurt grumbled. "But call me if you need anything."

Jane bit back a smile at how irritated he sounded at being banished. She walked into the room as he was stepping away from Allie's bed, wearing a petulant frown. Weller still looked tense, and he gave Jane a somewhat pleading look as he walked past her.

"Sorry, I didn't know Allie asked you to come. I could have driven you," he muttered.

"Anyways, I guess I'm leaving now. Goodnight Jane. Goodnight Allie."

"Goodnight Kurt," Allie said, exaggeratedly.

Now Jane did find herself grinning, as Weller walked out still huffing and Allie gave her a wink.

"Thanks for coming. I thought I was never going to get rid of him."

It was clear Allie was mostly kidding, especially with the eye roll and little shake of her head that accompanied the comment. Though it was also obvious that she was already over being the target of Kurt's protective tendencies.

For a moment Jane remembered what it had felt like, back when his overactive worry mostly landed on her. Sure, it had been annoying in a way. But adorable too. He just cared too much sometimes.

Not after being lied to though.

Jane swallowed the bleak thought, turning her attention back to Allie as the other woman continued speaking.

"Anyways, I just wanted to thank you in person. This can't have been easy for you."

Was that really all Allie wanted to tell her?

Of course she would have done anything to save Kurt's kid. No matter how much it stung to find out about it.

Jane about to say it was her job when she realized that wasn't true. She didn't have to take those risks, she wanted to. Even if Weller hadn't directly tasked her with protecting Allie, she would have done it anyhow.

"You don't need to thank me. I'm just so glad you and the baby are both okay."

It was true. Yet it still made her heart ache too.

Allie must have read something in her tone of voice, even though Jane had been doing her best to cover up her hurt. None of it was Allie's fault. It was clear the pregnancy had been unplanned, and she definitely wasn't using it to get back together with Weller.

Anyway, Jane was fairly certain she had no right to feel anything about Kurt being with another woman; not after deceiving him for so long. Though that didn't seem to stop the emotions from happening and reminding her that she was the one who screwed everything up.

"Look, I know things between you and Kurt… aren't great right now. But don't give up on him. Even if he messed things up."

Jane was startled for a second, surprised Allie would think it was Weller who had done something wrong. Even if he hadn't given her the chance to explain herself and had let her be tortured for months in a dark site. She was the one that had broken the trust between them.

"Um no. It was me. And it was something… unforgiveable. It isn't fixable."

She was certain of that. He'd said it himself.

When everyone you've ever loved has lied to you. There's no coming back from that.

Whatever fragile trust they could forget between them moving forward, Jane was sure she'd never find her way back into his heart. But Allie completely dismissed her words; instead giving her a knowing look.

"Yeah, he doesn't realize it yet either," she said. "But I've known him for a long time. And he's just different with you. Even now."

Jane didn't believe it but she also couldn't figure out why Allie would lie about it. Maybe just to try and make her feel better; but that didn't seem likely from someone who was normally so straightforward.

"I should know," she added. "He's only losing it because I've got his DNA growing inside me now. He never worried about me before then. And he's never looked at me the way he looks at you."

"That's all in the past," Jane muttered; though she couldn't help remembering exactly how his eyes used to rest on her.

"You're as stubborn as he is. Why am I not surprised?" Allie sighed.

"Look, I'm just saying what I saw. Everything that happened – his dad, finding Taylor, losing you. He completely fell apart. And I know you probably went through worse. But I can tell you still care about him."

Too much, Jane thought. She'd never considered that it could be reciprocated though.

Of course she wanted Allie to be right, even though she'd taught herself not to hope for anything other than surviving her double life and stopping Phase two. No matter how many times Jane told herself to manage her expectations about rebuilding their relationship, she couldn't deny the place he held in her heart.

"He cares about you too. It might just take him awhile to admit it to himself," Allie concluded. "If you hadn't noticed yet, he's pretty emotionally obtuse."

Jane bit back a laugh at Allie's comment and tried her best to believe what the other woman was telling her.

"Thanks," she said. "I'll try to remember that."

"Good. Anyways, I should let you go, I didn't mean to bring you here to talk about Kurt. I get that it's weird. But I wanted you to know."

Jane nodded, not yet sure what to make of it all.

But as she left Allie's room, things did somehow feel different. Even if Weller was having a baby with someone else, and things were still uncertain between them.

Maybe she would never have what she'd once wanted with him; maybe their relationship would never be the same. But it still felt good to know that he'd trusted her with something so precious. She could only hope that someday she'd be that important to him once more.

[ransomedrogue]

one more... and I’m finally caught up! this instalment is my version of “what we were all thinking about the whole gender reveal party”. oh and thanks @indelibleevidence, reading your token appearance short (which was awesome, can’t wait for more) made this whole thing pop into my head. 

2.8

Weller arrived home, still trying to work himself into the right mindset for the party that night. It had already been a long and difficult day and he was looking forward to slamming back a drink or two before having to play host to a houseful of people.

Allie was already there prepping things when he walked in the door, but she stopped putting up decorations and came over to greet him.

"Hey," she said, inspecting him closely.

"Are you sure you're up for this?"

He hadn't told her much about what had happened that day, though obviously he'd done a little bragging about having arrested Nico Marconi. It had also helped to explain why he wasn't able to get there until later than expected - there had been a lot of details to wrap up after arresting such a highly wanted criminal.

"I'm fine," Kurt sighed.

"What happened out there anyways?" Allie asked.

Weller groaned to himself. She didn't need to know that he'd been captured and put up for auction on the dark web, that he'd almost not made it to the party at all.

"It's a long story," he said, thinking about everything that had happened that day.

It had felt so right, he'd almost forgotten what it was like. Him and Jane; working perfectly in sync. Well, except for when he'd lied to her and ditched her on the pier.

For a moment his mind flashed back to Jane earnestly telling him that no one would miss her if she died. Even now, her words made him flinch.

It wasn't any surprise she thought that, but hearing her state it so matter of factly had made his heart hurt. So he'd taken the choice from her. And now he needed to convince her that she was wrong, after being the one that made her feel that way.

"Oh, I invited Jane," Weller added, thinking it would deflect attention away from questions about the mission.

But judging from the look Allie was wearing, he'd only just added to his problems.

"You what?" she asked.

"Wow. You're serious."

She was shaking her head in disbelief, and Weller started to feel annoyed at whatever Allie wasn't saying.

"What?" he asked. "I thought you liked Jane, I didn't think you would mind."

Allie sighed loudly, still looking at him like he was missing something obvious.

"I don't mind, Kurt. But what made you think she would want to come?"

When she put it that way, Weller realized he hadn't considered that at all.

He had just spent a lot of time thinking about what she'd said on the dock, especially while tied to that chair. Realizing at some point that he was largely to blame for how isolated she felt. Which had, in turn, spurred him to invite her to the party.

"I think I've been too hard on her," he replied. "She's part of the team and we're trying to get over the past. I wanted to show her I still care."

He didn't think it was possible, but Allie somehow managed to look even more incredulous at his explanation.

"Do I really have to say this out loud?"

"What."

"You wanted to show Jane you care about her, by inviting her to a party for your baby?"

He was getting the sense that he'd really messed up. Yet still he couldn't quite pinpoint what he'd done wrong.

"Kurt. You have a good heart but you can be so clueless," Allie sighed, as she turned away from him, still shaking her head.

"Well you invited her, it's your job to make sure she feels comfortable being here."

Allie walked off to hang more streamers, leaving him to his own befuddled thoughts.

What was he not understanding?

Weller thought back to the O'Malley case, remembering Allie telling him how upset Jane had initially looked when she found out about the baby.

But since she'd never shown him any of that, Kurt hadn't really given it any consideration. Though, now that he was thinking about it, these days Jane didn't show him much of what she was feeling, except when she was pissed off at him.

Or except when she was trying to sacrifice herself for him.

Her steely selflessness was such a contrast to the inner vulnerability she tried to hide.

"No one would miss me."

Hell, he would miss her so much. At some point that day, he'd even started admitting it to himself. And inviting her to the party had been his way of trying to tell her.

But, according to Allie, he'd already screwed things up. Which just made him more uncomfortable with the upcoming event.

Weller sighed, and got started prepping the bar area while still trying to work out what he could do to remedy his error. It was his mess; he'd better come up with some way to fix it.

###

Jane slipped out not long after the cake had been eaten, breathing a sigh of relief as she left Weller's apartment. Not only had the entire ritual been strange, she had felt so awkward and vulnerable watching Kurt play the proud father, living a life she would likely never have.

She supposed the gender reveal party was just part of the whole thing, a part of what new parents were expected to do. Even if it was weird, and seemed out of character for both Kurt and Allie.

Jane closed her eyes for a moment, trying to wash away the hurt. She wished it didn't still sting to think about him having a baby someone else. But it was hard, especially after the mission they'd just been on.

They had worked so well together all day that she'd almost forgotten about the distance between them. And then there was what happened on the dock.

Her mind flashed back to telling him she should be the one to go, that no one would miss her if she died. To her, it had just been the obvious truth. She wasn't accepted or cared about by either side; just a useful agent for both.

It had seemed to bother Kurt though. Not only had he deked her out with his little lie, he'd then made a point to invite her to the party. Which had been sweet. But so so awkward.

And now she was running away, thankful to have made an appearance and survived the experience. But as Jane stepped towards the elevator, she heard the door open again and froze.

"Jane."

Shit.

She turned to face him, trying to come up with something to say.

"Oh, yeah sorry about leaving without saying goodbye," she mumbled. "I just um…"

"No, I'm sorry, this is all my fault," Weller replied, cutting her off.

"I didn't really think this through."

He really did look sorry, which in turn made her feel bad. He should be inside having a good time, not out there apologizing to her.

She wondered if he had figured it out on his own, or if Allie had said something. Either way, this was not a conversation she wanted to have.

"It's okay, Kurt. Go back to the party."

Weller looked over his shoulder, then back at her. Just then the elevator arrived and Jane thought she'd dodged the moment. Until she felt him step up to her, instead of heading back to his apartment.

"I'll walk you out," he said.

Jane shook her head, a little smile tugging at her lip.

"It's really not necessary."

Weller walked her into the elevator, his arm lightly corralling her in.

"Yeah, it is," he replied, a bit sheepishly.

The elevator started descending and Jane waited nervously, giving him an expectant look. What could possibly be so important that he left the party to tell her?

When he finally started speaking though, she was doubly confused.

"Thanks for coming," he started.

"It was uh. Maybe not my best idea."

Weller actually looked quite worried, which was cute but so unnecessary. She understood he'd been trying to do something nice, even if it had made her feel conflicted. She wasn't going to hold his obliviousness against him when his intentions were good.

Again Jane wondered what had made him realize. She hoped it wasn't anything she'd done while at the party; she'd done her best to socialize and smile at all the right moments, even when her heart wasn't quite into it.

"Kurt, it's okay," she repeated.

"It was nice of you to invite me."

Weller kept at it though, wearing a little frown.

"Yeah. I just…"

He paused, his expression turning more thoughtful.

"I just didn't like what you said at the dock. Because… I would miss you a lot, Jane."

"I don't think I've been making that clear enough. But sorry if I um, put you in an awkward spot."

Oh Kurt.

God, she missed him.

The elevator doors opened just then and Weller stepped out with her. Jane felt a mixture of things, but mostly guilt. Both for taking him away from the festivities and for making feel like he needed to apologize for doing something nice.

"Thank you," Jane said. "For caring enough to try."

"Now go, they're all going to think you ditched your own party."

For a split second, it looked like he actually considered it. But then Weller just nodded and stepped back into the elevator.

"Good night Jane," he said, with that sideways smile she missed so much.

Jane walked off, stirring with emotions. She still felt sad and lonely, but Kurt's repeated gestures did warm her up a bit. At least he did care, even if he didn't exactly know how to show it.

[ransomedrogue]

what, more fic? yep, it’s coming fast and furious this week! 

still catching up so S2 starts now... and episode one has so many great scenes! But of course my fave is the ‘I need you to shoot me’ scene, so much angst :P

2.1

The air in the SUV was heavy with silent judgment and looks of disapproval. Weller felt the weight of it closing in around him as he drove them back towards the NYO.

His mind flashed back to the way Zapata had eyed him as they'd gotten back to the vehicle. After she'd shot Jane, because he'd been unable to.

Even after Jane had done her best to goad him into it, throwing every hurt she possibly could at him.

"Mayfair's dead because of me."

He was sure he'd never been that angry with anyone else, with the obvious exception of his father. But despite the twitch in his finger and recognizing that she was correct, Kurt knew he wouldn't have been able to do it.

In a way he'd been relieved that Tasha had taken the initiative. Jane was right, after all. He just couldn't pull the trigger, despite her most earnest effort.

Of course, Zapata's look afterwards had been all derision. Pathetic, her eyes had said.

Nas, on the other hand, still seemed shocked that he'd agreed to the idea at all. Even though it was clear to Weller that Jane's reasoning was on point.

So why hadn't he been able to do it?

And why was he so stuck on that moment of letting her go off, with a bullet wound in her side?

The obvious answer was too emotionally confusing to even consider. Yet it had taken a lot of restraint to not reach out and futilely try to stop her. He'd been on the brink of putting down his gun and insisting on another plan when Zapata took the shot. But once it was done, Weller had quickly remembered that there was no stopping Jane; there never had been. Not even after three months in a black site.

Kurt backed off with the self-questioning, already feeling too constricted in his chest. All of the emotions he'd been fending off since he arrested Jane were creeping over the walls he had carefully constructed since then. Weller bristled, recognizing the rage that was coming on and swallowed hard, somehow managing to contain it before he revealed himself any further.

He wanted to be angry at Jane and he was, to an extent. But mostly he was furious with himself for losing control of the situation. He should never have let the CIA take her in the first place.

He definitely should not have let her walk away with a bullet hole in her side, even if she had insisted on it.

A lot could go wrong quickly from an untreated gunshot wound. Even a clean through and through.

Kurt gave his head a little shake, as if that would get rid of the worry. Instead, it just irritated him more, especially when he glanced at the rear view mirror and saw Zapata still eyeing him.

"Weller, everything okay?" Reade asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Weller seethed inwardly, but managed to push back enough anger to merely appear extremely tense, instead of actively combusting.

Nothing was okay. Jane was out there on her own, making contact with a terrorist organization while possibly bleeding out. He never should have allowed it. And yet, it shouldn't be making him so goddamned upset either.

It was even more telling that none of his concern had to do with the actual status of the case. At the moment, he couldn't care less whether Jane successfully made contact.

He just wanted her to come back alive.

He was so angry with her. But seeing her again, he'd also instantly remembered how it felt; remembered that tug in his stomach that happened whenever she was near.

"Fine," Kurt finally replied, barely getting the single word through his clenched teeth.

Reade raised his eyebrows but took the hint and turned his head to look out the window. Which allowed Weller to turn his attention back to the road, forcing his mind off the mental image of Jane driving away bleeding.

It was a relief to get back to the NYO and escape the enclosed space of the SUV. Kurt did his best to push his feelings aside once they returned to headquarters, telling himself that there wasn't anything he could do but wait and see what happened.

Yet when he found himself alone in the car park with Tasha on their way to the elevators, angry words came tumbling out of him before he could stop them.

"You shouldn't have taken that shot," he growled, internally flinching as he saw it all happen again in his mind's eye.

Zapata smirked and shook her head dismissively.

"She was right and you know it. I only did what you couldn't do."

There was far too much truth to that statement for him to respond to it. Weller fought back the defensiveness that surged through him and did his best to refocus all of that emotion.

"It was too dangerous," he spat out, trying to justify his worry to himself.

But Tasha just shrugged.

"Yeah well, she's dangerous. And she asked for it."

With that, Zapata strode away, leaving Weller standing there shaking his head at the empty space in front of him. He ground his teeth together, recognizing that everything Tasha had said was true.

Jane was dangerous and he'd already fallen for it once. He recalled his fury from earlier, while listening to her reveal how she'd been living a double life while working with them. The betrayal of her reporting to her ex-fiancé handler, and causing Mayfair's death still burned so hot when he refreshed the memory. He'd let his father back into his life because of her lies, something he would always regret.

It was completely illogical then that he couldn't shake that hard pit of worry that sat in his guy. Still, Weller knew it wouldn't go anywhere until he saw that she was safe.

Despite everything she'd done and all the hurt she'd caused him, the picture of her limping away with a bloody hole in her side made his chest ache. It didn't make any sense, and he hated how conflicted it all made him feel.

But then again, when had he ever been rational about Jane?

Kurt took in a long breath and scrunched his eyes shut for a moment. Then, exhaling loudly, he got in the elevator and reminded himself of all the reasons he shouldn't be worried. Even so, he barely managed to force his wayward emotions back on track before arriving back at SIOC, desperately hoping that no one else could tell he was about to lose his shit.

###

"Because I wanted to be her. More than anything."

For you.

Jane sat back in the chair, arms crossed over her chest. Her emotions were burning, with the same intensity as the searing in her side.

Weller stood and turned, done with her now that they'd asked each other the necessary questions. Not that Jane wanted him to stay, she didn't like how his presence made her feel so overwhelmed.

She'd thought about it so many times; what it would be like to see him again, to tell him her truths. But she'd forgotten what it actually felt like. The effect he had on her, despite her anger or his.

All that fury and hurt built a wall though. Jane told herself she didn't want him to care. Not after what she'd been through. Where he'd let her rot for three months.

He couldn't take the shot though.

And he'd known. That she couldn't either. Not even after everything she'd gone through.

She hated him for that. For being so sure, and for being right.

Weller was stepping through the open door when Jane rose to follow him out the interview room and immediately regretted the sudden movement. A small grunt escaped her and she tried to cover it up with a cough while reaching under her shirt to check on her wound.

The bandage was wet but thankfully it wasn't completely saturated yet. There was still hope in getting things under control on her own.

But of course, right then Weller turned and frowned at her, with taut shoulders and guarded eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a bit brusquely.

Jane sat back, trying to shrug off the pain. Nodding, she did her best to keep her tone aloof.

"Yeah, just a bit sore."

Weller did not look convinced though and he stepped back into the room, the automatic door whooshing shut behind him.

Dammit.

She needed to get out from under his watchful eye and redo the bandaging. A little pressure would easily get the bleeding stopped again but Weller was already approaching.

Jane made a futile effort to back up but the wall wasn't far behind her. And of course Kurt didn't stop approaching until he was right there, reaching for the hem of her shirt.

"You're bleeding," he muttered,

Jane glanced down and saw that he'd lifted the fabric up enough to expose an edge of the bloody bandage underneath. Quickly she pulled her shirt back down and stood there with her back against the wall.

"I'm fine," she grunted, with green fire in her eyes.

But Weller just gave her the same concerned frown, blocking her way out.

"Jane, you're bleeding. And you look pale."

I was in a black site for months. Yes I'm fucking pale.

Jane felt her fury stir and did her best to harness the emotional energy.

"Weller, this isn't your problem anymore," she said, stepping forward in an attempt to barge past him.

Jane recognized her mistake as soon as she pushed off the wall. Her muscles were so tense that she immediately felt unsteady, and that was before the wave of dizziness crashed over her. Everything happening at the worst possible moment too, of course.

She felt hands grip her shoulders, trying to guide her into a seat. Jane still resisted though, sputtering out protest after protest as Weller completely disregarded her wishes and pushed her into the chair.

"Let me look," Weller stated sternly.

He sounded concerned. She hated that.

You left me to be tortured for months and now you're worried because I'm bleeding a little?!

You have no right to be worried, I'll survive it on my own like I have everything else.

Jane said none of it. Instead, she just glared at him, deliberately flinching away from his touch.

Of course it didn't stop him though. She'd never really had any rights at all.

Weller gently peeled her shirt up, his frown deepening as he saw the soaked bandage.

"I should take you to the doctor."

Jane shook her head firmly.

"I'm fine," she grumbled. "It was just a long walk."

Weller grimaced at her words, then pulled off the dressing. Thankfully the wound wasn't bleeding so profusely at the moment and Jane exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Stay here," he demanded, before leaving the room in a haste.

Jane did as she was told, despite the irritation in her chest. Exhausted from her day, she no longer had any strength to resist.

Weller returned with first aid supplies and quickly set to work closing and redressing her wound with a clean bandage. He muttered as he worked, making disapproving comments about how she should still see medical even though the wound wasn't leaking much anymore.

Jane was silent through all his commentary, doing her best to maintain a firm emotional boundary.

He doesn't care, she reminded herself.

And I don't want him to either.

When Weller was done, Jane gave him a terse thanks and got up immediately, ready to leave his presence.

Jane felt a little less shaky but still wobbly getting up, and cursed inwardly. Of course she was lightheaded; she hadn't had any food since a banana before showing up at the motel for work. There hadn't exactly been a chance to even think about eating once her former team had blown her life up once again.

But the thought of bothering to deal with that need seemed completely beyond her capacity right then. Even asking anyone about food seemed far too foreign and absurd. She would just go to whatever safe house they took her to, crash out and mentally prepare for another day of guilt and animosity.

It was even worse when Jane vaguely heard Weller calling after her, instructing her to get some food and rest.

Don't tell me what to do. I went for three months on a prisoner's diet. I don't need to eat to survive.

Jane walked out without turning back to look at Weller. At least the agents assigned to drive her home were silent as always, but that started to feel ominous when she realized they were bringing her back to the same safe house as before.

Her last memories of the place were more traumatic than her entire three month stay in CIA hell. Jane's heart was thumping hard as the detail walked her towards the place, visions of Kurt arresting her flashing through her brain as they approached.

But as they stepped up to the door and the memory started to push on her flight or fight response, Jane was suddenly distracted by a spicy aroma.

There was a bag of food on the landing, clearly just delivered. And, once the agents left, Jane found herself standing inside at the table, frowning while looking at one of her favourite meals.

She told herself it was because he was too goddamned stubborn, and that it was just his professional duty to make sure she survived long enough to do their dirty work for them. Nothing to do with real caring on his part.

Still, Jane had to admit the dosa was delicious. And, despite her best effort to stay annoyed after an emotionally exhausting day, the small gesture did make her feel seen.

It wasn't much, but it did give her a tiny sliver of hope. Even amongst the bleakness that surrounded her.

[ransomedrogue]

okay, now time for the ridiculously whumpy one! Sort of due to reader request, but mainly because it was fun to write :P

2.12 version W

For about two minutes, things had been going well.

After a day full of sadness and worry and anger, it had been a welcome relief to find Jane at his door. Her empathetic smile and offering of his favourite beer had made it all seem a bit unreal, so it had been fairly easy to shrug away his problems as he invited her in.

When Jane caught him wincing and asked if he was okay, Weller brushed it off with a little jab about her brother shooting him. Even though the once-dull pain in his ribs had been getting sharper as the day wore on, he didn't want her to worry about him. He'd seen how distressed she'd been when she finally made it back to the office after the HMX 'heist'. No matter what he said, Kurt knew she would feel guilty if he'd been hurt by Roman's actions.

But then Jane spotted Shepherd in his yearbook, watching him play basketball nearly twenty years ago. And Weller was suddenly lost to the past; reliving a memory he'd prefer not to have.

That agitation of getting caught by security, the powerlessness of not being able to protect his sister. It all came flooding back. Somehow Shepherd had spotted his weakness; she'd even managed to make him hear her point.

Now, though, that just made Kurt more frustrated - irritated that he'd listened at all. Which he recognized as pointless, and yet it didn't stop the anger from building in him. It also didn't help that he didn't have any other memories of Shepherd, but still Weller couldn't stop going through his years at the academy, reliving some of his darkest days.

He realized he was pacing, but felt unable to stop. He could vaguely hear Jane trying to talk him down, but her voice was muffled by the flood of memories he was sorting through.

Eventually his internal agitation was at its peak, his thoughts just a blur of problems that were out of his control. Kurt grabbed the back of one of the bar stools, trying to physically push the stress out of his body. But instead, he ended up slamming the chair into the breakfast bar, so hard he was surprised there wasn't any serious damage – at least not to the apartment.

Weller fell forward, barely catching himself against the edge of the bar. The sudden movement had left him gasping, the pain in his chest suddenly becoming sharp and intense. Groaning, he doubled over, his arms cradling his ribs as he tried to catch his breath.

Almost instantly he felt Jane's arms holding his torso lightly, one arm behind his back and the other across his collarbones. The added support gave his muscles some relief and helped him recover his breath a bit, but the stabbing feeling in his ribs continued.

"I'm going to help you lie down, okay?"

The idea sounded good, and it was surprisingly easy once he let Jane take over. From her position behind him, she slowly guided him down to the floor before kneeling beside him. Then, slowly, she manually uncrossed his arms and started unbuttoning his shirt.

For a moment, Weller could only feel her fingertips on his bare chest, pleasure briefly replacing pain. But then she was gasping at his matching deep purple wounds, her palms prodding his ribs individually, until he couldn't hold back a pathetic moan.

"Sorry, sorry," Jane said, pulling her hands away.

He immediately felt cold without her touch and silently admonished himself for his display of weakness.

"I'm okay," he muttered, trying to save some dignity.

Jane shot him a disbelieving look, but at least there was a flash of affection in her frown.

"I think you had a fractured rib, and you just displaced it," she replied. "Didn't you get checked out by medical?"

There hadn't been time, especially not for ribs that had felt bruised, not broken.

Weller said no, then braced for the lecture. He even knew he deserved it, after stupidly aggravating his injury.

But Jane just shook her head at him, a little twitch in her lip despite the distress spread over the rest of her.

"Of course you didn't," she muttered.

"How's the pain now? Are you still having trouble catching your breath?"

Normally he'd try to lie about it. But in this instance, Weller knew it wouldn't do anything except upset Jane further.

"Uh yeah. It's pretty bad, especially when I move."

Jane's hand drifted onto his chest again, her touch impossibly light.

"I think we need to get you to the hospital," she said, her voice tight with worry.

His impulse was to shake his head, but then another sharp pain radiated through his body and Weller wrapped his arms around himself again, unable to hold back a loud groan as he nodded his assent. No matter how stupid he felt about worsening his injury by pushing a chair against the wall, the pain was increasing and he was starting to feel short of breath again.

When the stabbing pain finally faded a little, he could feel Jane's hand on his sternum, her thumb swiping a soothing path along his skin. Then, supporting his torso carefully, she helped him stand up, holding him steady as the movement shot another spike through his chest.

"You're going to be okay, Kurt," she said, concern radiating from her hands and her voice.

"You're going to be okay."

###

"You're going to be okay."

Jane tried to keep her words calm, make them convincing. Yet, she knew it was pointless, because there was no hiding the fact that she was worried as hell.

Weller had seemed alright physically, right up to the point where his emotions boiled over. But then, something bad had obviously happened, because he'd nearly collapsed in pain, and wasn't even arguing about being taken to the hospital.

Worst case scenarios kept running through her mind as Jane kept a steady eye on Weller's breathing rate and skin tone. He appeared to be getting enough oxygen in, even though he was obviously short of breath. But she knew that could change quickly, especially if the sharp end of his rib was poking through his lung.

By the time they made it to the hospital, it was clear that he was in more pain, and his respiration had worsened. When they got inside, Jane noticed with alarm that his skin was tinted blue and was relieved when Weller was shown to an exam bed almost right away.

She got him to lie down while they waited for the doctor to come, observing him obsessively as he closed his eyes and breathed shallowly. At some point she realized her hand was gripping his tightly; and that she was forgetting to breathe as well.

Jane admonished herself mentally, reminding herself that they were in the hospital and Weller wasn't in immediate danger. Yet she hated feeling so helpless, with nothing to do but wait.

"I am an idiot," Kurt grunted, his first words in awhile.

He was looking up at her, the blue in his eyes wavering between pain and tiredness.

Her first instinct was to tell him that it could have happened to anyone, but then she realized it wasn't true.

"Yeah," she agreed. "For not getting checked out earlier."

Weller groaned, closing his eyes briefly.

"I felt okay."

"You mean sore," she countered. "You would have made me go to medical."

A grin tugged at his lip, despite everything.

"Yes I would have," he agreed.

"I learned my lesson alright? No more shoving chairs."

Jane looked at Weller sternly, still stuck on the memory of Roman firing right at him.

"You mean no more getting shot," she said. "And no more skipping out on medical."

He somehow managed to look both sheepish and defiant at the same time, and Jane felt herself relaxing a little. Especially when the doctor came in at that point and started examining him with a critical eye.

Jane stepped aside as the doctor got Weller to sit up and remove his shirt. Even though she knew what would be underneath, the massive bruising still made her wince. The doctor also eyed the damage, asking Weller why he hadn't been examined earlier.

"There wasn't time," he grunted, as the doctor pressed her hands into his ribcage and asked him to breathe deeply.

Jane could tell one of his lungs wasn't expanding like the other, even without seeing the doctor's nose furrow in concern. Then, when she checked each rib separately, Weller couldn't hold back a deep groan when her hands pressed over the darkest purple skin on his chest.

Jane shuddered, telling herself it was a reaction to the sound he'd just emitted, and not due to remembering her own hands in place of the doctor's. Whatever the cause, the shiver ran up her neck and she forced herself to refocus.

"I'm going to send you for an x-ray, but I'm fairly sure you've broken the fourth and fifth ribs on your left side and when one of them got displaced, it punctured your lung."

Jane met Weller's eye, a small smirk on her face as the doctor gave her diagnosis. She let her expression say 'I told you so', and he frowned in defeat.

"Luckily, the rib appears to have resettled, more or less in the right position. But we'll get the x-ray done to confirm if it needs to be surgically repaired. Either way, a chest tube is going to be necessary to drain the air that's formed around your lung cavity."

Jane's neck tightened at the mention of surgery - she had hoped the situation wouldn’t be so serious. But she didn't let her eyes drop away from Kurt's, trying to reassure him silently that he was going to be okay.

"Got it doc," Weller replied, with a nod.

The doctor informed him where to go for the x-rays, then left to attend to another patient. Weller shrugged his shirt onto his back, wincing as he reached to button it up.

Unable to ignore the temptation, Jane stepped towards him and replaced his hands with hers. Then, doing his shirt up slowly, she paused briefly at the bruising to place her palm on the swollen purple skin.

She'd wanted to do it, ever since watching the doctor do her exam. Which made it feel wrong in some way, and yet the opportunity had been impossible to resist.

Weller swallowed, then exhaled. She could feel the movement under her hand, almost too intimately. When he breathed in again, the lack of lung expansion felt clear, even to her inexperienced touch.

The reminders of his injuries shook her back into the moment. It wasn't the time to be stealing a touch, not when he was hurt and vulnerable – even if his heartbeat had quickened underneath her fingers. Jane pulled her hand from his chest, then promptly finished buttoning his shirt up.

"You should go get those x-rays," she said.

Weller looked a little flushed, his pallor better than it had been. But he still wasn't breathing well as she walked him over to the x-ray room and they sat down to wait.

"I don't have time for surgery," he grumbled, closing his eyes and hanging his head. "We have to go check out the lead on Shepherd tomorrow."

Jane shook her head, grinning a little at his annoyance. Of course his concern was about the case, and not about his own well-being. It was a good thing she was there or he'd likely check himself out despite his condition.

"We'll figure that out once you can breathe right," she replied, a bit sardonically.

Weller narrowed his eyes at her, his displeasure at the situation obvious. He did stop complaining though, even during the wait to get his x-rays done.

Once the radiologist was done with the chest scans, Weller was sent back to the same bed to wait for the doctor. He was wearing the same impatient frown as before, now with a little bit of tiredness mixed in too. Jane could tell he was also hurting more than he let on, as if pretending he was okay would fool the doctor.

Weller sat on the bed with pillows supporting his head and shoulders. It was the most comfortable position he could find for his ribs, but it didn't make the shortness of breath any better. His skin had regained that bluish tint and it was clear that he was feeling worse, despite his best effort to be 'fine.'

Jane was relieved when the doctor came in a few minutes later. She had been worried enough about his breathing to consider going to get help, even though Weller would have surely put up a fuss.

The doctor took one look at Kurt and put the oximeter back on his finger; then immediately reached for an oxygen mask and strapped it on. Weller scowled but didn't resist, not even pulling it off after the doctor got the air flow going.

"Your oxygen saturation is lower than I'd like. This will help with that," she said.

"Your x-rays confirm that surgery shouldn't be necessary to stabilize broken rib. But the pneumothorax it created is large enough to require a chest tube, so I will have to admit you until all the air has drained."

Now, Weller pulled the oxygen mask off, as Jane expected.

"I can't stay here. I have to go out of state tomorrow."

The doctor gave him a concerned look.

"Mr. Weller, you need to get this treated before you travel anywhere," she replied.

Kurt shook his head, and Jane could tell he had engaged full stubbornness mode.

"Sorry doc, I'm a FBI agent and it's a time sensitive case. If I'm not released by then, I'm going to leave."

The doctor looked over to Jane, silently seeking support for her side. But even though she was worried for Weller, it was hard to argue with him when Jane knew she would probably do the same thing in his position. Still, she had to try.

"Kurt, be reasonable," she sighed. "The trip can wait a day or two, it's not worth risking your health for."

"You know there's no time," he grunted, sounding short on breath without the oxygen mask on.

"I'm not waiting, Jane."

"Look, we're wasting time here," the doctor interjected. "I'm going to insert the chest tube and get the air draining. If there's significant improvement by morning, it's possible you can leave with the chest tube still in, as long as you come back to finish the treatment."

At least it shut Weller up, and he let Jane put the mask back on while the doctor prepped for the procedure. Then she took it upon herself to unbutton his shirt for him as well, slipping it off just as the doctor had her tools ready.

"You don't have to watch, it's a minor procedure but can be a little unpleasant to witness," the doctor said to Jane, before beginning.

"I'll stay."

She had no intention of leaving Weller alone, even under professional care.

"Okay then. Mr. Weller, I'll start by sterilizing the area with iodine and injecting lidocaine into your ribcage before making an incision and inserting the tube."

It wasn't bad until the doctor used her finger to jab through the lining of his ribs to create an entry into his pleural cavity. Even though Jane knew Kurt couldn't feel it due to the lidocaine, it still made her wince, watching the doctor's bloody finger come out of the hole in his chest.

Quickly, the doctor put the chest tube through, and sutured it into place before connecting it to the drainage container on the floor. Then, after checking all of Weller's vitals again, she left the room, saying she'd be back to look in on him before morning.

Until that moment, Jane hadn't really realized they would be staying there for the next eight hours. Weller still looked pissed off about it, the furrow in his brow clear even with the oxygen mask on. But she was just glad he was there, getting the help he needed. And, equally, she was happy to be the one there with him, even if it did mean an uncomfortable night.

"You should go home," Weller said. "Get some sleep."

Jane shook her head, putting her hand over his, guiding the oxygen mask back into place.

"There's no way that's happening," she replied. "I'm not leaving you here by yourself."

Weller reached for the mask again, but Jane caught his hand with hers and pre-empted his argument.

"I know. You're going to be fine. But I'm still staying to make sure."

She gave his hand a little squeeze, before guiding it down to his side. For a moment though, Jane wondered if he was telling her to leave because he would rather have someone else there.

His relationship with Nas was an open secret amongst the team, and she had done her best not to wonder about it. They just didn't seem all that compatible as people, though Jane recognized that she was biased in her assessment.

Suddenly feeling awkward, like she was using her presence during his medical emergency to coopt a place in Weller's life, Jane let go of his hand and stood back from the bed. When Kurt didn't try to hold on, she took it as a sign to pose the question.

"Or I can call someone else for you. But I don't want you to be here alone."

Weller's expression had shifted, the irritation gone from his brow. Instead, the blue in his eyes had softened from the ice that previously been there.

Pulling the mask down, he looked at her affectionately.

"There isn't anyone else," he said.

Her heart seized for a moment as she forgot to breathe. Then, exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm herself, Jane tried to find other ways to interpret his words, other than the way in which she wanted to hear them.

But, try as she might, Jane couldn't stop her pulse from pounding, and she felt her palms getting clammy as well. Even though nothing about the situation was romantic at all, with Weller lying in a hospital bed in pain, a tube sucking air out of his chest.

"Okay, well. I guess you're stuck with me then," she said, cringing internally at her attempt to keep the mood light.

But then Weller managed a grin at her comment and she could see his shoulders softening into the bed as he finally accepted the situation. Stepping closer again, Jane gave him a tender look while settling the oxygen mask back into position.

"Close your eyes," she coaxed. "You need to rest and heal."

For once, Kurt didn't argue. As her hand drifted to his hairline, his eyelids slid shut and he started to take longer breaths. Before long, he had drifted off to sleep; but Jane still stood there, rubbing little thumb circles against his temple until her legs ached.

[ransomedrogue]

Christmas and the Gang

Repost, sort of? Written for the Blindspot Holiday project 2019 on Tumblr but I didn’t have an account back then. This is set during the two-week time jump between 2.10 and 2.11 so it sorta fits the rewatch timeline too. (I'm sure it makes no sense that Christmas would fall during that time but, then again why not?)

*

Nothing like spending Christmas with your family, Jane thought as she sat on the cold concrete floor outside of Roman's Zero Division cell. Especially when neither of you remember anything about the holidays, what it's all meant to be about.

Jane suspected that holiday celebrations hadn't been a big part of life with Shepherd - she certainly hadn't had any Christmas-related memories pop through. And Roman seemed to be just as much at a loss, though he appreciated the gifts and the take out roast turkey dinner she'd brought him.

But now that the present opening was over, they had run out of things to talk about and the terribleness of spending the holiday in a stark concrete bunker was settling in all around them. Roman seemed a bit fidgety too, like he was nervous about her presence.

"Don't you have something better to be doing on Christmas Day?" he asked, giving her a skeptical look.

Jane shook her head. She genuinely had nothing else planned for that day. The rest of the team was spending the holidays with family; everyone seemed to have relatives in town that year. She was happy that they were all getting a chance to spend time with their loved ones. They deserved it after how hard it had been recently, especially since the ambush that left so many agents dead.

Terrible waves of guilt still crashed within her whenever Jane thought about what had happened. How it had all been her fault, caught out by Sandstorm's mole. She felt so horrible for Patterson, tortured by someone she loved. And for Reade, who was still recovering from his leg injury. Weller too, even though he hadn't been there for the raid. The guilt he had felt about not being there, being played by Sandstorm. Jane knew it was all on her, that none of it would have happened had she never come up with this plan, erased her own memory.

So of course she didn't have any plans for Christmas Day - the only family she'd ever known was probably lost to her forever. And although the environment sucked, at least she had Roman to spend time with. Even if she was just drawing while he read a book, Jane liked being there, trying to connect with him. He was her only family now, all that she had.

Just then her phone chimed an alert and Jane pulled it out to see that it was her FBI locator app going off, indicating a target on the move, just outside the NYO office. There was no information from Patterson attached to the search though and they weren't actively trying to locate anyone.

"What's that?" Roman asked curiously.

"I don't know," Jane replied. "I'm being given a target to catch but we aren't working on anything right now."

"Are you going to go?" he questioned. "Shouldn't you ask Weller about it before you follow a random signal?"

He had a point, Jane thought. But it was Christmas day and Kurt was busy with family along with everyone else. Also the target was still nearby and she was the only one at the NYO. It was up to her to find out what it was about.

"I don't want to bother him if it turns out to be nothing," Jane said. "I'll go investigate first and if I need back up I'll call it in then."

"You just want something to do that isn't sitting in an underground bunker. I don't blame you, you should be out with your friends," he commented. "So go, if it turns out to be something then at least you'll see them on Christmas."

That was sad, she thought. But true. That the only chance she had of seeing the team on Christmas was if they were called in on an emergency.

"Okay, I'm going," she declared, ready to do anything other than sit around and mope. "I'll see you later Roman. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas Jane," her brother replied sincerely.

Jane left the NYO building and started following the tracker uptown. Her quarry looked to be on foot so she walked as well, far enough behind that she wouldn't get made.

It was strange following a signal that she knew nothing about. Jane tracked it for miles and miles until she was in Central Park, amidst families all celebrating Christmas.

Finally, her target had stopped moving and seemed to be staying among the many people ice skating on a large rink in front of her. Jane stared at the crowd of skaters, realizing that she had no hope of finding an unknown subject out on the ice. Especially since she wasn't sure if she knew how to skate and had no reason for even chasing this person.

She was about to give up the search, glad to have at least gotten some outdoor exercise and entertainment, when a familiar figure caught her eye. Jane turned her attention back to the ice rink and stared at the object of her interest.

It was definitely Assistant Director Kurt Weller, skating with his nephew and his sister. Even from that distance she could tell that he was laughing at Sarah, who was rather wobbly on her skates.

Jane stood there staring, thinking that it couldn't be a coincidence. The city was huge and the tracker had led her to exactly where Weller was. But it didn't make any sense. She was sure that Kurt had not set it up, would not want her at this family outing.

She felt like a creep even watching them from the edge of the rink and had just turned to leave when a familiar voice called out her name.

Jane turned back, feeling like she had been caught spying. But then again, it was Christmas. And now at least she would get to see Kurt for a minute, although the circumstances were odd.

Weller was just skidding to a stop in front of her, wearing a slightly confused smile

"Jane," he repeated, a bit out of breath from hurrying over. "Hey."

*

Kurt Weller chased his nephew around the crowded ice of the Wollman rink, thinking how he hadn't done anything like this in years. Though he still thought it was very strange that Sarah won free tickets specifically for Christmas Day, especially since she couldn't remember having entered any contests and didn't even live in New York anymore.

But something something about looking a gift horse in the mouth, and what could be sinister about a family ice skating excursion on Christmas?

He hadn't been on skates since he was a kid but he hadn't forgotten how, though it took him a few times around to get his balance again. Sawyer wasn't bad either, considering he was only ten and hadn't been ice skating very many times. But Weller had to really keep an eye out for his sister who had already almost crashed into other skaters a few times that day.

He was scanning the crowd for Sarah when he spied a familiar movement at the edge of a group of people who were watching the skaters. He couldn't consciously determine what it was that he saw but Kurt knew he had to investigate and went over to check.

Weller tried to keep his eye on his target as he skated to the edge of the rink but it was difficult amongst the holiday crowds. Still, he was able to spot her just as she was turning to leave, easily identifying the way her body moved.

"Jane!" he hollered, unsure what to make of her appearance there.

It could just be a coincidence, he thought. Maybe she was out for a walk and happened to stop and watch.

Or maybe it was the universe trying to do him a favour.

Luckily Jane must have heard him, because she turned back towards the rink and watched as he thankfully managed to skid to a stop without falling.

"Jane," he called again, slightly out of breath. "Hey."

Jane smiled, coming down to meet him at the edge of the ice.

"Hey Kurt," she said, a bit shyly. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," he replied. "What are you doing here?"

Jane looked at him nervously and Weller wondered what she could possibly be worried about, before thinking how adorable she was with that little furrow in her brow.

Stop it, he admonished himself mentally. It was a constant battle to keep inappropriate Jane-related thoughts out of his head. Even after everything that had happened between them.

Maybe because of everything that had happened between them.

"This is going to sound weird," she started, pulling out her phone and showing him the indicator on her locator app. "But this started going off when I was with Roman and it was right outside the NYO so I followed it. And it led me here."

"You followed a lead on your own without knowing anything about it?" he exclaimed, already looking around the rink in alarm, searching for possible danger.

"Why didn't you call me?"

Jane sighed, pulling into a defensive posture.

"It's Christmas and I didn't want to disturb you if it turned out to be nothing. Which it did," she grumbled.

Dammit, he thought. He always did this, pissed her off by being overprotective.

Weller took a few deep breaths and told himself to calm down. It was Christmas, and nothing nefarious seemed to be happening at the ice rink. Plus, Jane was right there. What else could he want from life?

"Sorry," he apologized. "I just don't like the idea of you being out there on your own."

Jane's expression softened and she gave him a small shrug.

"Good thing it led me to you then," she said, her green eyes flickering playfully.

Every day he loved her more. He could admit that to himself now.

"We should find out if you know how to skate," he said, the line coming to him out of nowhere. "Someday it might be required for tactical purposes."

Jane flashed a sly grin and he knew he'd already won.

"Well, when you put it that way, it does seem pretty important to find out," she replied mock seriously.

Weller grinned, unsure what to make of of his good luck. But for once he wasn't going to let his worries get in the way.

"Let's get you some skates," he said.

They rented some skates for Jane and immediately Kurt knew he was in trouble. She laced them up like a pro and walked over to the ice confidently, then stepped onto the rink and started skating away from him faster than he could manage.

Goddammit, he thought. She was good at everything.

It was nice to have a goal though, someone to chase. Kurt dodged other skaters, keeping his eyes on Jane whipping about. But, try as he might, he couldn't catch up to her until she mercifully stopped.

"That was fun!" she gasped, her cheeks ridiculously pink.

"I guess ice skating is part of Navy SEAL training now," he commented, impressed by her as always.

Jane grinned and shrugged.

"Maybe I had to go undercover as a Canadian," she conjectured. "Part of the essential skill set."

Weller laughed at the impish look on her face; she looked more relaxed than he'd seen her in awhile. Things had been so dire for Jane ever since she escaped from the black site, her life constantly in danger. At least now she was done with being a double agent. He slept so much better knowing she wasn't out there alone with a bunch of terrorists.

He would sleep even better if she were close enough to personally observe.

Kurt shook the thought out of his head but couldn't stop himself from offering her his hand, feeling as nervous as a schoolboy. And his heart thumped in his chest when she snaked her fingers between his, grasping his hand tightly.

"So, you think you're qualified to catch a perp on skates?" Jane asked with a twinkle in her eye.

Not if that perp is you, for the crime of stealing my heart.

Thankfully Weller managed to keep his corny line to himself, again trying to shake the thought out of his head.

"I think I'll leave that one up to the undercover Canadians," he said instead.

They made their way around the rink a few more times, Jane tugging him along. Kurt was just looking around for his sister and his nephew when a teenage girl started skating right beside them.

"Kurt Weller?" the girl said. "This is for you."

She produced a plain white envelope and he took it without thinking, so bewildered by the situation that he didn't even notice the delivery girl skate away.

They slid to a stop and Weller looked at Jane in surprise. He could see that she was also confused, looking at the envelope with suspicion.

Unless it was some sort of chemical or biological agent, there wasn't much that could fit in the envelope in his hand. Really, it did not appear dangerous so Weller threw all caution to the wind and just opened it.

Inside was a pair of tickets to the rare Christmas Day NFL game that afternoon, the seats were even quite good. Kurt glanced around again, baffled, but the courier was long gone by then. All he saw was Jane, standing in front of him, a frosty rosy delight, biting her lower lip in anticipation.

He should have been suspicious, ready for some elaborate set up. But it was Christmas, and he had Jane right there, along with two tickets to the game in his hand.

It was a good thing his nephew and sister had other plans for the afternoon and wouldn't be into a NFL game anyhow.

"Bet you've never been to a football game," Weller said with a grin. "Beer and hot dogs are on me. But we can't tell Zapata and Reade about these tickets, they would give us so much crap about not being real football fans."

*

Tasha Zapata was not a holiday person - she just couldn't be bothered with all the lights and tinsel that had to come back down afterwards. And family gatherings generally led to too many insinuations about boyfriends and babies and the life she'd chosen.

Though she could get down with the whole drinking aspect of the season; in fact, saw alcohol as her only chance at surviving the ordeal.

Case in point, she was already a few drinks in and it was only early afternoon. She had started with a bloody Mary at breakfast, a little hair of the dog to chase away the remnants of the previous night. And then of course there was a celebratory mimosa, followed by another glass of champagne.

Tasha sighed, felt the need to both slow things down and speed it all up. She was not usually that hard a drinker, at least not anymore. It had been bad at one point, after her partner had died on the job while she was with the NYPD. But then alcohol had started to take a toll on her job performance and she had just managed to shut it down before it got in the way of her future. But really she'd only replaced one bad habit with another, more expensive one.

Since then she only drank socially and not usually to excess. But things had been stressful as fuck at work pretty much ever since Jane showed up just over six months ago. First with Carter blackmailing her then with Weitz doing the same shit. She was done with shady powerful men screwing with her life. She wanted the ability to take them all down.

The tattoos were such a mind fuck because of that. They pointed at corruption and created action, which Zapata loved. But Jane had been planted by terrorists, hell Jane was a terrorist before she wiped her own memory. It was still hard for Tasha not to think of Jane as anything but the Trojan horse she was meant to be. Especially with Weller being so insanely sure that Jane was on their side, unwilling to even consider the idea that she could be stringing them along.

But then again, when had Weller ever been objective about Jane? Even when she had just escaped the CIA and come back, he hadn't been able to shoot her, despite Jane trying to goad him into doing it. Tasha had stepped up with no qualms at all. In fact, she'd been more worried about stopping at one shot than she had been about shooting their former teammate.

Then ever since, Weller had trusted Jane. He'd been consistently worried for her, not about her. Even when he'd been angry as hell and said he didn't want Jane around. He'd obviously been disproportionately concerned about her and his support for her had never wavered.

It was hard for Tasha to wrap her head around, especially since what happened at the Sandstorm compound - the explosion that had caused so many deaths. She wanted to blame Jane, because she had led them there. And because she had started this all by lying to them in the first place. But Zapata knew deep down that Jane was with them, that she had been from the start. Sure, she had made mistakes but Tasha had fucked up too, by selling her teammate out to the CIA. She still felt guilty about that, and about sleazy fucking Matthew Weitz.

The truth was, Zapata just wanted to have someone to pin the blame on, someone that wasn't herself. Jane had gotten played, outed by her own plan, and her own recruit. But she had almost died too and was doing her best to fix the mistakes of her past. So it was hard to be too mad at her.

After all, none of them had suspected Borden of being a mole, so that was on them. Tasha shuddered, thought about how she had encouraged Patterson to go out with him. And now Patterson had been horribly hurt both physically and mentally, clearly still trying to repress all the trauma she had gone through. Zapata had even tried to convince her to spend Christmas together, because she knew her friend would spend the day working from home and hiding from the world. But of course Patterson had declined the invite, mumbling some excuse about having to skype with her parents.

Zapata sighed. She hated being half-cut and maudlin, just wanted to call Reade up and bitch to him about all the crap in their lives. But of course even that relationship had gone to shit since he had unexpectedly come on to her.

Now that was a topic she wasn't meant to think about. She had been so shocked in the moment, unsure how to respond. Her first thought had been 'this is a terrible idea'. Her second thought, 'but possibly terrible in a very good way'.

Of course she had run away instead of confronting it, cutting it off quickly and hopefully permanently so she wouldn't ever have to make that choice again. Because the thought of having a relationship with Reade made Zapata extremely nervous in a way she didn't want to explore.

Tasha shook her head, annoyed with herself. She was moping by herself on the couch while the rest of the family was in the kitchen helping prepare dinner. But the thought of joining in with them wasn't appealing either, it would just lead to more drinking and behaviour that she'd end up regretting.

Thankfully there was a knock on the door just at that moment and no one else could hear it due to the din in the kitchen. Zapata figured that any distraction was better than nothing, wondering who could be at the door on Christmas Day when everyone invited was already there.

She answered the door and it was a courier, with an envelope generically addressed to Female FBI Agent. Which made no sense at all, receiving mail not in her name, especially since she was at her grandma's house. But the courier didn't know anything about the package, just saying it was for a female FBI agent at that address before handing it to her and leaving.

Tasha did a visual inspection of the envelope, and then probed it with her fingers. It seemed like nothing except paper was inside. Which didn't mean there wasn't any risk but Zapata was drunk and curious, so she slit it open anyways.

Inside were two lower tier tickets to the NY Giants game that afternoon, great seats that she could never afford for herself. Zapata ran into the kitchen and interrogated her family until she was satisfied that none of them had any idea about where the envelope had come from. When it was clear that the tickets were a gift from an unknown deity, Tasha shrugged and decided it did not matter who had sent them, even if it was some sort of trap.

She was going to the football game! And of course she knew what she needed to do next. No matter how awkward things would be. If she went to the game without taking Reade, he would hold it against her for life. And really there was no one else she wanted to go with, even with the weirdness between them.

Zapata pulled out her phone, already dialing his number.

*

It had been a pretty shit year, Edgar Reade concluded as he watched his relatives argue about politics and the state of the government. Sometimes they seemed to forget he worked for the FBI, and that the whole distrust of authority thing pissed him off.

Though he had to admit he was seeing things in a different light since they had started investigating the tattoo cases. As screwed up as it was to be lead by terrorists into an anti-corruption effort, it had highlighted a lot of the problems in the system.

Then again the same terrorists had just tried to kill him, his leg still not quite a hundred percent after nearly two weeks of recovery. Though he was determined to go back to work after Christmas; he'd had enough of sitting around and thinking about all the things that had gone wrong in his life recently.

The whole Coach Jones situation. Freddy. That tape he hadn't watched yet. All this was hanging over his head, tinting every thought.

That and the other thing.

Zapata.

Damn. In some ways that was worse to think about than the possible childhood abuse he'd suffered. He hadn't talked to her since he'd made a move on her, mistaking her sympathy for something else.

Reade told himself it was the drugs, or emotional residue from almost dying in that explosion. That he didn't want to make out with his best friend, that he hadn't always wondered what it would be like if they fucked.

It was Tasha. His partner, his wingman. She was off limits and he'd screwed it up.

She would forgive him of course. But it was going to be awkward between them for awhile. Zapata was not going to want to talk about it, her disdain of any discussions involving feelings well documented. And she was going to bug him about it forever.

Reade sighed to himself, wishing he was anywhere else so that he could at least stop lying about how he injured his leg, escape from feeling so disconnected from his family.

Of course he really just wanted to be with Tasha, despite all the ribbing he would take from her. He couldn't stop thinking about waking up to her holding his hand, that worried expression on her face. It still made him feel less sorry for himself, even if he had messed it up afterwards.

Reade had just decided to have another drink in an attempt to knock all thoughts of Tasha Zapata of his head when his phone rang, and of course, it was Zapata.

"You have an hour to get to Metlife stadium, I have tickets to the game. Don't ask questions, don't tell me you can't ditch your cousins," she stated firmly. "I'll see you there."

Well, that was unexpected and slightly bewildering, he thought to himself. And yet, Zapata had said she had tickets to the game so it was a pretty big risk to ask questions, or challenge her conditions.

Reade pushed himself to his feet, making the rounds and effectively ditching his relatives with excuses of an urgent work matter. It was only half a lie, he figured. Tasha was from work and free tickets to an NFL game could certainly be construed as an urgent situation.

With that settled, he got an uber, wondering what the hell was going on. Zapata had sounded serious but possibly drunk. Which could go all kinds of sideways considering their recent history.

Damn, he hated overthinking things with Tasha. They had always been such good friends. He would just play it cool, act like nothing had happened unless she brought it up.

Reade got out of the car at the stadium, looked around and spotted Zapata right away. She saw him too and came walking over, waving the two tickets in her hand.

"Look at these seats!" she crowed, holding the tickets right up to his face. "I've never sat this close before."

"Where did these tickets come from?" Reade asked, his suspicions immediately aroused. There's no way Zapata got them from family, not at the price of NFL games those days. And she was obviously already way past tipsy, had that looseness to her body language.

"Courier showed up at my grandma's place, had an envelope for me," Tasha admitted. "All that was in it was the tickets."

"What?" Reade asked. "That's nuts, Tasha. Wait. This envelope just says Female FBI Agent, it's not even addressed to your name. And how did a courier know to go to your grandma's house with something for you? I can't believe you opened it, there could have been anthrax in there or something."

"You think I didn't think of that?" Zapata replied hotly. "But it felt like just paper, no powder or anything. And I was pretty drunk so I just went for it."

"Oh you're pretty drunk are you?" he teased. "I couldn't tell."

"Screw you, Reade," she replied easily. "So we going to this game or not?"

Damn, well obviously they were going to end up at the game, he realized. No matter how strange the circumstances of the tickets were. They were there and they had amazing seats.

"Well, it's really weird," he declared. "I think we should do our due diligence and check it out, make sure it's nothing."

Tasha grinned at him winningly and they headed into the stadium, searching for their seats. It was almost game time so they hurried, as fast as his healing leg could manage. Of course Zapata still managed to stop for drinks too, clearly getting ready for a rowdy time.

When they got nearer to their seats Reade started to feel a sense of something odd. He couldn't quite put his finger on it until he looked down the row at the only empty seats left and saw a strip of tattooed skin.

As he and Zapata made their way down to their seats, Weller and Jane stood up too, looking as confused as he was.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" Tasha exclaimed loudly.

Weller shrugged, also looking suspicious but not overly worried. Which was unusual in itself.

"We were skating in Central Park when a teenager approached me with an envelope and then took off," he explained. "These tickets were in the envelope. What about you?"

"So weird, basically the same shit. Courier came to my grandma's place with an envelope for me," Tasha replied. "No way to trace it so I thought I better go to the game and rescue Reade from being a sad sack on Christmas."

Damn, she was pretty drunk already, Reade thought yet again.

"Wait, you guys were skating?" Zapata asked, switching tracks.

Both Weller and Jane started blushing, looking away shyly though it wasn't exactly a surprise to anyone. Even after she had been exposed as a liar, Weller still looked at her the same desperate way. The way that said I think about you all the time even though I know I shouldn't.

"Yeah well the locator tracker on my phone just started going off, and I followed it to the rink," Jane explained hastily. "And Weller was there with his sister and nephew but he made me go skating. For tactical purposes."

It was clearly an inside joke of some kind because Kurt grinned idiotically at her, the way he does when he thinks no one is looking.

"There's been a lot of strange things going on today," Reade concluded, looking at his teammates. "All of which to set us up to be here. Should we not be worried?"

He didn't want to be the guy who put a damper on things but they were fighting a terrorist organization with a huge reach. What if they were targeting the game and trying to take the team down with the rest of the stadium?

"Oh lighten up Eddie," Zapata said, stressing the nickname she liked to annoy him with. "It's Christmas and it's football. Look at these seats! And even Weller is drinking beer. So relax and take this."

She passed him a beer and he didn't have much choice but to let go of his misgivings, sit back and drink his beverage, enjoy the game and the fact that Tasha was too drunk to care about the current state of their relationship. After all, she was right. Even Weller seemed loose, was explaining the rules of football to Jane, leaning in closer than necessary even with the loudness of the crowd.

The game was a close one, with the Giants scoring first but the visiting Steelers coming right back to tie it. It went back and forth all game right up to the start of the fourth quarter, which started with the Giants up by three.

Tasha was trying to get a rise out of Weller by dissing the Pennsylvania-based football team with Jane looking on in amusement when the game went to commercial break on television and the in-arena entertainment started flashing on the jumbotron.

Reade looked up and saw that it was the Kiss Cam, groaned inwardly feeling like the universe was poking fun at his mistake. The camera flashed to a few different couples who all seemed happy to satisfy the crowd's desire to see smooching.

And then he saw a familiar hair flip on the screen, a toss of long brown strands that he would recognize anywhere.

"You're on the screen, Tasha!" he shouted, even though she was sitting right next to him.

Now he could see Weller too, and the cameraman was flashing between showing just Weller and Zapata on the screen to just Weller and Jane. It was clear what the question was, the only thing Reade was unsure about was whether Kurt had drunk enough beer to answer it.

What he had never anticipated was that Jane had drunk enough beer and had such epically low alcohol tolerance that she was the one to step up and answer the question for the cameraman. She leaned over and kissed Weller, tentatively for about a nanosecond before they were both all in, unstoppable.

Zapata grinned like a maniac watching, turned to Reade and winked.

"You think I should have gone for it before Jane jumped him?" she asked.

Reade laughed and looked back at the jumbotron just then, saw, to his dismay, that the kiss cam had only just moved over two seats and was firmly focused on Tasha and him.

Shit, he thought. Like a fucking nightmare come to life.

Or like a dream.

Because Zapata was now wasted, like probably not going to remember the second half of the game wasted. And so she reached up to pull him towards her, then was kissing him before he even realized what the hell was going on.

It took him half a moment to decide that he had better just go with it. To try and control Tasha at that point would have been pointless. And even if she did remember, there was no doubt who made the move this time.

Reade pulled her to him, the kiss lasting longer than he expected. It felt so good to be connected with Tasha at that level, so illicit too. He didn't want it to end, kept reaching for her lips even as she drunkenly pulled away, flashed him a self-satisfied look.

"I didn't do that," she slurred at him seriously.

Reade was still stunned, Weller and Jane too by all appearances. They all stared at Tasha in amazement, barely noticed as the jumbotron announced that they were all winners in the contest, that a team representative would be by shortly to give them their prizes.

When the prize arrived it was again just a plain envelope, with what appeared to be cardboard inside. No one even questioned the safety of the situation this time around and Reade opened the envelope to reveal five tickets to the Rockettes show at Radio City Music Hall that night.

Jane voiced what they must all have been thinking.

"That doesn't make any sense. There are four of us why would they give us five tickets?"

But of course none of it made any sense at all. From the tracker that had sent Jane to the ice rink, to the envelopes with the football tickets in them. The Broadway tickets were just another oddity along the way. And it was obvious to all of them who the fifth ticket was meant for.

So they all hopped into a cab, ready to spread their weird Christmas luck.

*

Patterson had reverted to an old coping mechanism. Whenever her feelings had overwhelmed her as a child, she had hidden away in her closet by herself. For whatever reason it had helped her feel like her emotions were contained within that space - that they couldn't follow her out into the world and upset her there.

Not that she was hiding in a closet. But her apartment was her closet now, or her lab at work. A place where she could hide away from the world and pretend it didn't exist. Trick herself into believing that none of the horrible things that had happened to her that year could hurt her.

She had lied to her family, telling them she had to work on Christmas so she couldn't make her usual visit home. There was no way she could have dealt with seeing her parents. She would have fallen apart with them, and they would have gotten it out of her somehow. The whole terrible ordeal, at least everything that wasn't classified. And there's no way Patterson could have dealt with that. She wasn't ready to tell her story, wasn't sure she ever would be.

So she had hidden away with junk food and her pain. Tasha had asked her if she wanted to spend Christmas with her but Patterson had declined her friend's well-intentioned invite. Like everyone else, Zapata just wanted to help. But Patterson wasn't the kind of person that accepted help easily, or at all.

She was already far into the second Lord of the Rings movie, the extended cut of course, when there was a knock at her door. Patterson considered who it could be at dinnertime on Christmas Day, then stopped to grab her service weapon on her way to the door.

Patterson opened it a crack and was not particularly surprised to find Tasha Zapata there, reeking of alcohol and hollering somewhat incoherently. She was, however, quite shocked to find Reade, Weller, and Jane on her doorstep as well, all of them also exhibiting various levels of inebriation.

They all yelled Merry Christmas at her together, a bit out of sync but overall it was still pretty adorable. Even when she was at her worst, at least her friends could make her smile. Especially when Zapata was rambling about the Giants game, the kiss cam, tickets to the Rockettes show and everyone else looked somewhere between self-satisfied and embarrassed.

"Wait, did you just say Jane and Weller won the kiss cam contest?" Patterson exclaimed, all her troubles put aside for the moment.

Jane blushed like crazy, then shook her head in desperate denial.

"No," she replied. "There's no way we would have won without Tasha and Reade jumping in on the action."

"What!" Patterson yelped. "I would have sat through football to see that."

"I was drunk!" Tasha shouted, as if it wasn't obvious. "And Jane's right, I totally won us these Rockettes tickets. So let's go. Our cab is waiting for you, Patterson."

Leaving her apartment and going to a cheesy Christmas Broadway show was the last thing that Patterson wanted to do. But she didn't want to argue with her team, especially with a wasted Zapata. And she had to admit it was kind of nice to see them all together on the holiday.

So Patterson quickly got ready to go out and they pulled up to the show just in time to get to their seats before it started. Just like the football tickets, their seats were great, the dancers right there in front of them.

The show was better than Patterson expected and she found herself getting into the magical dance scenes, especially because Jane was sitting beside her, as wide-eyed as a child watching the spectacle. Patterson thought about how nice it was to see everyone so comfortable with Jane again, that they were together for Christmas after such a brutal year for all of them.

Maybe it wasn't so bad that she wasn't able to complete the Lord of the Rings trilogy by herself, that these mysterious things had been happening to the team all day. Even though she felt like she should be more suspicious of everything and the oddness of it all. The rest of them seemed to have thrown all logic out the door, probably due to the holiday drinking. But Patterson was still on the lookout for some sort of trap, anything strange.

It finally happened near the end of the show, during the big finale. Patterson saw a man sneak onto the stage, pulling out a gun. Then another man stood up in the middle of the crowd and fired a shot into the air.

Both men started running after that and the team mobilized quickly despite the amount of alcohol still affecting them. They all pulled out their weapons and split up to chase the two different gunmen. Jane and Weller followed the guy from the stage while Patterson, Zapata and Reade chased the man in the crowd.

Patterson ran ahead, glad that at least someone was sober amongst the five of them. The man they were chasing made for the emergency stairs, then started heading up towards the roof. Patterson followed close behind, her gun drawn and ready for action.

When they finally got up to the roof, the man they were after was nowhere to be seen. Patterson, Zapata and Reade looked at each other, befuddled. There was no way he could have escaped them.

Just then, another door to the roof opened and Jane and Weller appeared out of it, looking just as confused as Patterson felt.

"What the hell?" Weller yelled. "I saw our target come up here, he would have run right into you guys. Where is he?"

"Same thing happened to us," Patterson replied. "We got on the roof and our guy had just disappeared."

She tried to say something more but found herself being drowned out by the sound of an incoming helicopter. Patterson looked up to see what looked like an FBI chopper about to land on the same roof they were on. The team all pulled back to a safe distance and stared at each other, clearly all baffled by the situation.

When the helicopter finally landed, an FBI agent jumped out and called out their names, said there was an urgent situation that their presence was needed for. Weller questioned the agent and seemed to be satisfied with the answers he got because he waved them into the chopper, told them all it seemed legit.

Except for the part where no one at the FBI could have known that they would be at the Rockettes show, much less on the roof at that exact moment. Unless Weller had called it in, but even so, that seemed like a huge stretch.

Patterson exhaled worriedly, wondered what they were getting themselves into. Her teammates were still somewhat drunk and they weren't properly armed or dressed for a mission. Yet she wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else at the moment, certainly not at home alone while her friends were together on a sketchy Christmas field op. Despite the large possibility that they were walking straight into an elaborate trap.

*

As her beer buzz started to fade and the situation became less shrouded with alcohol, worry began to creep up Jane's neck. Even though Weller had checked the agent's ID and authorization, none of it made any sense at all. How could a helicopter have known that they would be chasing disappearing suspects on the roof of Radio City Music Hall?

But at least she was the team. Christmas had already been better than expected, even if it did end up with them abducted. Jane flushed at the memory of skating with Weller, his hand warm in hers. Then reaching up to kiss him in front of an entire stadium full of people. She still couldn't believe she had done that. Well, yes she could. She had been quite drunk and it's not like she didn't still think about how perfect it had felt, the first time she found a moment just for them. Right before her life got exponentially complicated.

The helicopter began to descend in a densely wooded area, presumably in upstate New York based on the direction and time traveled. When it landed, there was nothing nearby except a cabin, all lit up with Christmas lights on the outside.

They all got out of the chopper and it flew away without giving them any more information on why they were there. The pilot had claimed to know nothing except that where he was meant to drop them off, and that further instructions would be given once they arrived.

Everyone drew their weapons and they split up into groups to do a perimeter check of the building before entering. Jane and Weller went around back, seeing that the cabin had a nice deck and a fire pit, with a bonfire already going, and more wood piled nearby. They approached the back door and the windows that looked out onto the deck. It didn't appear that anyone was inside, but it was lit and prepped for festivities.

Jane reached for the doorknob, and wasn't all that surprised to find it unlocked. The day had been extremely strange already - she was no longer shocked by anything.

When she opened the door and walked into the cabin Jane was assaulted by multiple aromas all at once. The scents of roasted turkey and pine trees and spiced cider tickled her nose as she looked around to see a full Christmas dinner laid out on the table, along with copious amounts of alcohol, and mistletoe. A lot of mistletoe.

Jane looked at Weller, and saw that he appeared to be as confused as she was. Just then the rest of the team entered the cabin through the front door and they all stood around staring at the table full of food, as well as the absurd amount of decorations.

"What's that?" Patterson asked, pointing at a package in the middle of the table.

It was a slim gift-wrapped item, arranged as the centrepiece with a placard that said "The Gang". Weller grabbed it and tore off the paper.

"It's a tablet," he stated, handing it to Patterson.

Patterson took the device and looked it over, powered it up.

"It's only got one video on it," she reported.

"Well play it," Zapata urged. "So we can start drinking again."

Patterson pressed play on the video and a familiar face appeared on the screen, followed by his equally familiar, grating voice. Weller groaned as soon as he heard who it was and Jane sighed as well, shaking her head in exasperation.

"Merry Christmas my FBI friends! Or Happy Hannukah, if you prefer, though I think that was done days ago and none of you present as Jewish. Anyways, happy holidays from your friendly neighbourhood felon, I hope you've all had a better day than I've had. Which isn't exactly hard considering I'm enjoying the fine amenities of the federal penitentiary system. Not that I'm complaining, but there isn't a lot of opportunity to go ice skating or to a football game or to a Broadway musical. Or even just to have Christmas dinner with your family."

Patterson pressed pause and they all looked at each other, stunned.

"Rich did this? How?" Weller grunted irritably. "He's in prison. And why would he do this?"

"I bet he tells us," Reade commented dryly. "Let's hear what else he's got to say."

Patterson pressed play again and the video of Rich continued.

"So I bet you guys are wondering how I did this all from my cold lonely prison cell. But what you should be asking is why I did this all from my cold lonely prison cell. Because the thing is, criminals, they really can be such gossips. And word on the street was my favourite FBI team just took some hits so I thought to myself, Rich, it is your duty to give your good friends at the bureau a Christmas together. So I did this for you. Well, really, I did it for Stubbles and Jane but they're such suckers for the rest of you that I couldn't leave anyone out. Well, except for that scary NSA lady, I definitely left her out. That was for you, Jane."

Rich paused and winked at that point, leaving time for everyone to stare at Jane and Weller who were both blushing, trying not to look at each other. Jane shook her head and bit down hard on her lower lip trying to tame the pitter patter that her heart made at Rich's words.

"So that's it. I did this all so you guys would spend Christmas together, like a family should. Well, that and you know, there's the whole I scratch your ass, you scratch mine kind of thing. I figure a favour owed by my FBI compadres is always a plus. Also, on an unrelated note, did you know I get conjugal visits? Jane, Weller, that's for your info. Although I think it's a one at a time thing in here, the federal prison system isn't in on threesome cultures yet, they're not very progressive that way."

Jane looked at Kurt, could see his jaw grinding as he glared at the image of Rich. She had to grin though, as much as Rich annoyed the crap out of her too, at least he was consistent. And he had done a very thoughtful expensive thing for them, somehow giving them all a great day at a difficult time.

"Anyways, that's all I wanted to say from my sad cold corner of the inmate world. Please think of me while you enjoy the luxuries of the outside. And the next time we meet, remember I could have had you all killed instead of sending you on a romantic adventure."

With that the screen went dark and Christmas music came on to replace Rich's voice. For a moment they all just looked at each other trying to process what had happened. But then Tasha grabbed a bottle of wine off the table and started pouring herself a glass, so Weller shrugged and popped open beer for himself too. After that they took down the dinner in record time, Jane eating more than she ever had in a single sitting and then getting laughed at by the rest of the group by moaning about how much she regretted her second plateful.

"Oh my god, she doesn't know about wearing pants with elastic waistbands for holidays," Zapata exclaimed. "Or about saving room for dessert."

Jane joined in the laughter because she genuinely didn't know about either of those things; had never considered eating so much that her pants would feel uncomfortable. Or that there could be another whole course after the huge amount of food they'd already eaten. Usually when she was reminded of her lifetime of missing memories Jane would feel empty and disconnected. But this time she suspected she had never had a Christmas as full of happiness before - that the previous holidays of her life had not been full of turkey and pumpkin pie.

After dinner, Jane felt the need to move around a bit so she walked out back for some fresh air and added some wood to the fire that had died down while they were eating. Once the bonfire was going again she stood by it absorbing the warmth and watching the flickering flames.

She heard the patio door open and looked up to see Weller walking towards her. Rich's innuendo came back to her in the moment and she almost blushed again. Despite the fairy tale day, and the ridiculous kiss cam situation, Jane knew that Kurt wasn't hers, would likely never be. His trust in her was still fragile, he had barely just started treating her as a friend again. And he was sleeping with Nas, pretty clearly not looking to start a relationship with a former terrorist.

Weller came to stand next to her at the fire, huddling up close to her and looking up at the sky.

"It's starting to snow," he commented, a lazy smile on his face.

She loved seeing him like that, so at ease with everything. She knew things had been hard for him lately, that he was troubled by Shepherd's role in his life. It had to have been terrible to find out you'd been watched from afar, every since you were a kid. And despite the merry atmosphere and alcohol, she felt bad about having planned it all with Shepherd, no matter what she was doing to counter it now.

"Yeah, it's so pretty," she replied.

Jane looked up at Weller, wondered if he had come out to talk to her for a reason. She wished things could be easy between them again, that she could heal all the hurt wrought by her lies. But she had broken a fundamental trust between them and she didn't know if Kurt could ever truly forgive her for everything she had done, everything she kept from him.

She was still searching for something to say when Weller turned to look at her, wearing a slightly anxious expression. Jane braced herself for some sort of disappointment, though she couldn't imagine what she was so afraid of. Kurt had been so kind to her all day, so she supposed she was just worried because the fairy tale had to end some time.

"So, um, Jane," Weller started, glancing at her nervously. "I know we didn't talk about this, and I don't want to put you on the spot."

Now she was really confused, her shoulders starting to tense up with fear about whatever bomb he's about to drop on Christmas, of all days.

"What are you talking about Kurt?" she managed to squeak out, her heart rate ramping up with anticipation.

Weller sighed, pulling something out of his pocket.

"I got you something for Christmas. I know, I shouldn't have, so there's no reason to feel bad that you didn't get me anything. But I saw it and it made me think of you. It was an impulse thing and it was probably a mistake. And then I brought it skating because I wanted to figure how to give it to you without it being weird and so I had it here with me..."

"Kurt, you're rambling," Jane interrupted, taking the small box from his hand, feeling her heart flutter.

Weller had given her something in a similar box before and the moment caught in her chest, stopped her in her tracks. But she could tell that this was something different, that it was something for her, not Taylor.

Jane opened the box to reveal a vibrant green gemstone, cut sharp and shaped like a miniature dagger. She pulled the pendent out to admire it closely, run her fingers admiringly over the sharp edges.

"Kurt, it's gorgeous," she said. "But I can't accept this."

Kurt silently reached out to take the necklace from her and put it around her neck.

"Yes it is," he agreed. "And yes you can."

"It's the colour of your eyes," he murmured in her ear. "And its beautiful, but deadly. Just like you."

Maybe Christmas really was a magical season. Or maybe she was just delusional.

But either way, Weller was saying absurd things to her and Jane was going to run with it.

"I love it," she replied, unable to form any more coherent words. "Thank you, Kurt. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything."

Weller shook his head, smiled at her winningly.

"This day together, being here right now to give it to you. That's everything I could have wanted," he replied.

Honestly it's everything she could have wanted too. This day with her team, the people she considered to be her family. And time with Kurt, without the endless stress of their regular lives.

Still Jane wished she had gotten something for him, just had never thought that he would buy her a Christmas present. Especially something that was so thoughtful, and, by all appearances, expensive too. She had thought about whether she was meant to buy something for Kurt but wouldn't have been able to get him anything much, considering her meagre asset stipend. Still, she could have drawn him something, or tried her hand at baking something chocolatey. Now though, it was obviously too late to remedy the situation.

Or was it?

For an instant Jane's mind turned to the gaudy Christmas decorations in the cabin, then to her own favourite memory of the day.

She looked at Weller wistfully, glad he couldn't read what was going on in her mind. They were friends again and that was already more than she expected. And he wasn't hers, no matter how much she wanted him.

But that moment of letting it all go, reaching up for his lips in front of a roaring stadium. It kept coming back to her, taunting her.

'What would Rich do?'

The question flashed through her mind, seemingly out of nowhere. And there was clearly only one answer.

"This is everything that I want," she replied as she reached her arms up around Kurt's neck, pulling him towards her until their lips met.

Again, the kiss was soft and shy to start but Weller's initial surprised hesitation only lasted a split second before his hands came up to her face, and his mouth started exploring hers hungrily.

Jane had never felt more connected, passionate, content. Being wrapped up in Kurt, the heat of his body warming her in intense unfamiliar ways. She tugged him to her fiercely and ran her fingers down the back of his neck, trying to permanently record the moment in her memory.

She was just thinking she could just stand there and make out with Kurt forever when the patio door opened again and she heard Zapata's voice hollering a half-joking warning about no more kissing.

Weller pulled away at the interruption, then looked at her with dazed eyes.

Jane grinned, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth playfully at him.

"Merry Christmas, Kurt," she whispered.

Weller broke into a huge smile, slinging his arm around her shoulders.

"This whole day was a dream right?" he replied. "I'm pretending none of this ever happened."

Jane knew what he meant, and felt the same way herself as the rest of the team came up to join them around the fire. It was Christmas and she was with her family, wrapped up in Kurt Weller's arms, with him insisting that she's too thin and needed to be kept warm.

So, of course, Jane chose to not tell him that it was already the warmest she had felt in ages - that she couldn't possibly dream up a better Christmas. Instead she just snuggled into Kurt, mentally thanking their felonious frenemy for the most absurdly wonderful day of her life.

[pacyt]

🔥🔥🔥

Okay, now for scene two. This isn’t my usual steeze… but trying to branch out a little with more romance, less angst :P

2.19 - The Bar

All of this. That led me to you, and you to me. And that is something that I would never want to change.

Even with Weller’s words still echoing in her mind, Jane refused to think it was possible, until he leaned in so close she could smell the booze on his breath.

They had come so far in their relationship, considering it hadn’t been long since he was uncomfortable just being around her. Yet she had been careful not to assume anything, even as they started being friends again. The fact remained that her place in his life was due to circumstance and necessity, not because he wanted her around.

She had messed everything up so thoroughly the first time, right when they had gotten so close. The thought that Weller would give her a second chance had been too much to even consider.

But now there was no doubt about his intentions, even as they were interrupted by Patterson and Zapata, returning with the next round. His wink and sly grin made her cheeks flush as they pulled away from each other and settled back into their seats. Patterson made a quip about finding the answers at the bottom of the round but Jane was suddenly having a hard time focusing on anything other than Kurt’s mouth.

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