Disclaimer: The characters of Person of Interest sadly don't belong to me. I'm just borrowing them with no intention of gaining any profit by doing so.

Welcome to my very first multi-chapter fanfiction. I'm so excited about posting this story, but also a little apprehensive of what you might think. The story is pretty much completed. I'm pretty sure I would be able to re-write all the scenes or add even more, but I figured to just call it quits or this puppy would never be posted. Anyway, what I want to say is, that you don't have to worry about never finding out how it ends. Except if you all agree on how bad this is ... even then, I'll just post :D

English is not my first language and sadly I don't get to use or practice the language a lot lately. So there might certainly be some (if hopefully not a lot) mistakes, which I'm asking you to kindly ignore. Except if they hurt your eyes while reading, then please let me know. And yes, the story is unbeta-ed so far.

Well, having rambled on enough I can only hope you'll be enjoying this story and maybe find the time of dropping me a little feedback. I have to say, getting reviews is actually pretty addictive.

Chapter 1

It had been an unusual slow day at the precinct. Not that anyone would ever complain about it. More the opposite. Slow days were far too few in between and also meant less violence and death. Especially for the Detectives working the homicide task force.

Detective Lionel Fusco was practically counting down the minutes to the time he could officially drop his pen and head home. The prospect of getting home early for a change and enjoying a quiet beer on his sofa put him in a good mood. With only twenty more minutes to go his chances of actually being able to go through with tonight's plans were looking decidedly good.

Drumming his fingers on his desk he let his eyes wander the bull-pen. Apparently he was not the only one who'd decided that enough work had been done for the day, with waiting for quitting time the only task remaining. Until his gaze fell on the person occupying the desk across from his.

Detective Jocelyn Carter's head was the only one still diligently bent over reports and witness statements of one of her 37 open cases. Fusco shook his head, though he had to admire her dedication to the job. Watching her it was easy to understand why Wonderboy had chosen her to work with (or was it for?) him. Her innate sense of duty and doing what was right practically left her no choice but to help out whenever he called.

His cell phone chose that moment to ring. Fusco took a quick glance at the display and seeing a blocked number calling, he knew it could only mean either Wonderboy or his well-spoken friend were trying to reach him. He mentally groaned.

With his luck they needed him to watch or babysit one of their charity cases for the remainder of the night. Cringing at that thought, Lionel decided to just let it ring.

The ringing persisted for what seemed like minutes, earning him an annoyed look from Carter, which he also ignored. It finally stopped just to be replaced with a new happily chirping ring tone originating from Carter's coat pocket.

Lionel shot her a look that tried to convey to her not to answer the damn phone and she really understood where he was coming from. She'd been looking forward to spending some extended quality time alone tonight. Preferably soaking in a nice and warm foamy bath, listening to music and enjoying a glass of wine or maybe two. She'd already gone so far to call her son and asking him to stay at his grandma's tonight.

As great as it all sounded Joss was pretty sure that if she wasn't to answer her guy in a suit's call now, he'd probably be breaking down her front door with his guns blazing while she was basking in her foamy delight.

Sighing, she dropped her pen and pulled out the offending object. She heard Fusco groan, but chose to ignore him answering the phone instead.

Fusco watched Carter turn her body away from him as she took the call. Even though they had known that they were both secretly working for the same guy for a while now, Carter's instincts were still to enter stealth mode whenever Mr. Vocabulary or his intimidating sidekick gave her a call. A sure tell, which Fusco had picked up on pretty fast.

This time, though, he didn't even try to hide his eavesdropping on Carter's side of the conversation.

"Yeah? ... Good evening to you, too, John." she fell silent for a few seconds, listening to the other side. Then she shot Fusco a pointed glance as she said "Because maybe he didn't take his cell with him to the restroom."

The rest of the conversation consisted of her uttering a few "Uh huh"-s and jotting something down on a piece of paper. Finally she told him that they'd be there and dropped her phone back into her pocket.

"Lemme guess?" Lionel groused testily.

"He wants to meet." Carter affirmed is suspicion, then added, "tonight."

"Of course he does!"

Fusco threw up his arms in frustration and lent back into his office chair, crossing his arms across his chest. He looked like a petulant kid about to throw a temper tantrum. After a few seconds of what could be considered pouting he pointed an accusing finger at her.

"You just had to answer that call."

"Well, I'm sorry. I had different plans for tonight, too, you know?"

Fusco visibly deflated, "Fine. Where and when is the meeting supposed to go down?"

Carter held up the piece of sticky note she'd scribbled on while on the phone. "At this address in an hour."

Fusco got up and moved over to her desk. He snapped the note out of her fingers and read the address. "Where the hell is this supposed to be?"

"Knowing our mutual friend's penchant for isolated meeting spots, I'd say it's somewhere far off the beaten path." Carter supplied with a smile.

"Whatever."

Grabbing his coat Fusco made a bee line for the exit.

"Hey, Fusco, where are you going?" Joss called after him. They still had ten more minutes on the clock.

"Logging out early," Lionel tossed over his shoulder. "At least I want to get something decent to eat before having my evening ruined."

Carter just arched an eyebrow and watched Fusco's back until he disappeared through the squad room doors.

Fusco took his sweet time getting to the meeting place, hoping Carter would beat him there. He didn't want to have to spend too much time alone with the ex-CIA-killer ... or whatever he was. The thought of having to try to make small-talk to John Reese made him wince. Sooo, killed anyone lately? Yeah, that would go over just swell.

Still, when he finally did arrive there was no sign of Carter having made it before him. There was no sign of John Reese either, but Fusco knew better than to be relieved. He would bet all his money that the guy was lurking around here somewhere.

He turned off his car and decided to wait right where he was. He didn't have to wait long before a second car – not Carter's he noted – arrived and stopped right behind his. Lionel looked into the rear mirror and watched as John Reese got out of his car. Surrendering to his fate, the Detective sighed and exited his vehicle, as well.

"Carter should be here any minute." Fusco said as he neared the man he called the Bane of his Existence.

"And a nice day to you, too, Detective." Reese greeted with one of those expressions Fusco just did not know how to interpret. Was he making a jibe or was he barely containing his urge to rip Fusco's head off? Lionel just didn't know. He decided to stay at a safe distance and mumbled "Yeah, whatever." John just smirked at him.

Trying to distract the other man from his uneasiness Fusco rubbed his hands together before firmly placing them in his coat pockets. It was going to be a damn cold night again and he really hoped his plans for a relaxed evening at home on his sofa with a couple of beers weren't going to be ruined by whatever Mr. Dark and Mysterious wanted them to do for him. But considering Reese's history of not really caring about how inconveniencing he might be to the Detectives, Fusco didn't hold up any hopes of having his butt actually meet any soft cushioning tonight. He wanted to sigh again but he felt himself being watched by the other man.

Fusco couldn't help himself. The quiet was making him nervous to no end. "It's freezing." Nice, Lionel. Go ahead and state the obvious.

He had to wince at his terrible attempt at small talk. Reese shot him a look that clearly stated 'No shit, Sherlock'. Within seconds Lionel's nervousness changed into crass annoyance. All he wanted to be doing right now, was to sit down somewhere warm and relax. Waiting in a dark, desolate alley with Mr. Happy over there and freezing his butt off was not his idea of having a good time.

"What do you want us to do for you this time?"

"Let's wait until Detective Carter gets here, shall we? I would hate having to repeat myself." Reese half whispered.

Sometimes Fusco wondered if the guy was even capable of speaking at a normal level of tone. Probably got almost strangled one too many times. He had to snort at that thought, which made Reese arch one of his eyebrows. "Is something funny, Detective?"

"Uhm, nah."

John continued to look at him with that unnerving expression of his for a couple more seconds before his eyes started to roam over their surroundings. Probably searching for possible threats, Lionel thought. Old habits died hard.

Where the hell was Carter?

Before Fusco could start another disastrous attempt at conversation he was literally saved by the bell. He pulled out his cell phone and checked the display. He was surprised to see his son's name as the caller's ID.

He looked up at Reese and said in way of an apology "Sorry, I've got to take this." Not waiting for any signs of acknowledgement from Reese Lionel turned around, hit the accept button and put the phone to his ear. "What's up, Buddy?"

Then he froze.