A/N: For various reasons, I haven't written anything in years which is why I haven't touched any of my stories. I've missed writing, but I just couldn't do it. Things are slowly turning around, so I decided to give another chapter for this story a whirl. Sorry for the wait, and thanks to those that have either sent me a message or left a review.

Special shout out to wolfmusic218 and the other ladies in our group who've been there over the years. You know who you are. ;)

John knew the second she stepped up behind him. He wasn't sure if it was the faint hint of jasmine that floated on the mid-April breeze, or his innate ability to always sense her presence. It had long since failed to matter, but it never failed to amaze him when he allowed himself to think about it hard enough.

A small smile lifted one corner of his mouth. "Good morning, Detective."

Keeping his eyes trained on the surface of the gently rippling water of the East River below, he passed her the steaming cup of coffee he'd picked up for her. Joss paused for a moment, her surprise by the gesture evident. A small gust of wind swirled around them, blowing a few loose strands of dark hair across her face. She tugged at the lapels of her short black pea coat, closing it more firmly against the insistent morning chill.

"I wasn't expecting gifts," she said as she took the cup from him, her fingers brushing against his.

"I'm full of surprises."

"You can say that again," she murmured, lifting the blue and white paper cup to her lips. He turned his head slightly to watch as she took a small, careful sip of the steaming liquid. She closed her eyes in appreciation, visibly savoring the lightly-sweetened, heavily-creamed gourmet concoction. "God, that tastes amazing. Definitely not from The Lyric."

"No," he chuckled lightly. "Not this time."

She took another sip, smiling at him over the rim. Even the dreariness of the dark-grey sky couldn't diminish its brilliance and warmth. "Thanks. I didn't have time to make any this morning."

His shoulders lifted and fell in a casual shrug. "You're welcome."

Unable to help himself he let his eyes roam over her face, taking in her full lips, her round cheeks, and her huge, brown eyes. As his gaze dropped lower to where her palms were gingerly wrapped around the warmth of her cup, his mood turned sour. The snow-white bandage enclosing her left hand stood out in glaring contrast against her brown skin, cruelly reminding him once again of her mortality. Taunting him with the ugly realization that he wouldn't always be there in time.

Jaw clenched, the playful smirk slid off his face as he turned back to face the dark water. His eyes settled onto the majesty of the Queensboro Bridge, seeing but not really registering the huge structure stretching far out into the distance in front of him. Grasping the cold railing beneath his hands in a death grip, John desperately tried to quell the rage he thought he'd purged 48 hours ago.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Joss' eyes fall to the bandage for a second before coming to rest on the side of his face. Her gaze was like a soft caress against his skin. He felt himself relax a bit as some of the tension drained from his muscles. She always seemed to have that effect on him; once again, he wasn't the least bit surprised.

"I'm fine," she assured him as if she knew what he was thinking. And as intuitive as she was, she probably did. She'd said those exact same words to him many times over the past several days, but her reassurance was only slightly comforting. Before he could respond she added, "But it's more than I can say for Russell Scribner."

At the mere mention of the felon's name, his body immediately tensed again. He could feel his shoulders lift a fraction of an inch toward his ears before he managed to regain control of his emotions.

"Who?" he asked in a flat voice. Schooling his features into neutral mask, he watched a dingy white ferry chugging along in the distance as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Really? That's what we're doing?" Out of the corner of his eye he could see her huff in exasperation. "It's way too early in the morning for BS, John."

Knowing there was no way in heck she was going to let it go he sighed and turned to face her again. As expected, her expression matched her tone. Her arched eyebrows were dipped low and her lips were drawn into a small frown.

"What do you want me to say, Carter?"

"I want you to tell me the story of how Scribner ended up with a broken hand and a few broken ribs."

John mentally winced at the stern schoolteacher voice he'd been on the receiving end of more times than he could count. "It's a short story."

"Then it shouldn't take long to tell it."

"It begins and ends with a car door."

"How did you even know he was out on released on bail?" Before he could answer, she rolled her eyes and held up her hand. "Never mind. I don't know why I even asked. I already know."

He remained silent, choosing to neither confirm nor deny her statement.

"Why, John? Why do you keep doing things like this?" Her voice had grown quiet, the anger and irritation replaced with a grudging resignation.

"Because I can't not do it."

And that was the unfiltered truth.

The second he'd found out from Finch that Joss had been injured in an arrest gone wrong John had begun plotting his revenge. How. What. When. He'd never shown his hand as he'd snuck into the emergency room to see that she was okay with his own two eyes, and then for the several days after as he'd tended to her in any way that she'd allow. She'd only had five stitches across the palm of her hand from the jagged edge of the broken bottle that an erratic Scribner had been drunkenly waving around that night, but he'd barely left her side since it had happened.

He knew he'd probably hovered over her far too much for her liking, but he hadn't been able to help himself. Protecting her was his default setting. A feature and not a bug, as Finch would say.

It had been a given that when she found out what he'd done, she'd be none too pleased. But at the time he'd been filled with a seething rage that needed an outlet, and he hadn't cared about the consequences. The only thing that had mattered was hurting the man who'd hurt Joss. And he had. With magnificent, pain-inducing glory.

"Meaning?" she pressed.

"Exactly what I said. If someone hurts you, I'm going to hurt them."

At his unwavering declaration, she closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. He wasn't sure why his stanch protectiveness always seemed to catch her off guard. It had been this way since the moment he'd laid eyes on her in that small, dingy police interrogation room. And it would be this way right up until the day he closed his eyes for the final time.

Joss sighed again and this time the sound was devoid of her earlier indignation. "I appreciate you having my back. I do. But I'm a cop in one of the largest cities in the world. Odds are that I'm going to get injured every once in a while. You can't rough up every lowlife that puts his or her hands on me."

"I can try."

Her frown returned. "I mean it. You can't keep doing this."

"I do what needs to be done."

"But it doesn't need to be done," she said, taking a small step toward him. Her head tilted backward as she stared up at him, her expression imploring. "You're gonna get yourself caught. Don't you care? Or am I the only one?"

He ignored the warm feeling that spread through his chest at her admission. As much as the thought that she cared about him filled him with elation, this wasn't about him. It never had been.

"I'll do anything to keep you safe, Joss. Anything. And if someone is stupid enough to hurt you, then…" he trailed off and shrugged. His expression was hard and unyielding.

"And if I ask you not to?"

"Are you asking me not to?"

"What if I am?"

Balking at the mere suggestion, he pursed his lips with displeasure and began to slowly shake his head. "You know I'd do anything for you, Joss, but don't ask me to do that. Don't ask me to make that promise."

"John…please…" She was almost pleading with him now.

He hated to deny her, but he couldn't give her what she wanted. Not this time.

Somehow, he had to make her understand. "I do a hell of a lot of bad things, but lying to you has never been one of them. Don't ask me to make a promise that I know I won't be able to keep. Don't ask me to lie to you. If you need to hear the words, I'll say them, but they won't be the truth."

Joss stared at him, time seeming to slow as the city continued to come alive around them. The low babble of voices surrounding them had steadily grown louder, becoming a nonstop stream as people rushed by. The discordant sound of traffic had picked up as well. The overabundance of honking horns mixed with the distant shouts of impatient drivers signaled the true start of a new day even more than the rising sun could.

Finally, her dark eyes fell from his, dropping to the coffee cup still clutched in her bandaged hand. They widened slightly as though she was surprised to see that it was still there. She raised it to her lips and took a distracted sip. Her nose wrinkled adorably at what he could only guess was the taste of a bitter, lukewarm liquid that had long since lost its flavor.

After frowning at it unhappily as if was the source of all her woes, she pinned him with her gaze again and tried one last time. "So that's the way it's gonna be?"

"No," he replied matter-of-factly. "That's the way it is."

They stared at each other, their stubborn battle of wills temporarily put on hold. He knew that this argument wasn't over, however. It had just been paused until the feisty woman staring him down brought it up again. And she would bring it up again. Guaranteed.

His Joss was a clever and talented tactician; a damn good detective and an even better interrogator. She chose her battles wisely and would revisit their impasse at another carefully chosen moment when she thought she'd have the upper hand. And she'd keep revisiting it as she tried to wear him down until she got her way. Or so she thought. Because it was never going to happen.

It was the one thing he couldn't give her. He would always protect her, and he would always be her avenging angel.

Whether she realized it or not, he'd burn the whole world to the ground if it meant keeping her safe; if it meant punishing anyone who was foolish enough to do her harm. He'd do it without shame and without hesitation. Every single time.

"Guess that's it then." She had conceded.

For now.

"It is."

Joss gave him a small nod and a matching smile as she began to back away from him. "Guess I'll see you around."

One corner of his mouth lifted in return as she turned and began to walk away. He was pretty sure she wasn't looking for an answer, but he gave her one anyway.

"Always."