Person of Interest 1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is part of the Christmas Fic Exchange. I had the pleasure to write a story for devereauxpoi based on the prompt: Careese's first Christmas spent together (fluff, angst, smut, whatever you're feeling). This will have multiple chapters that will be posted today and tomorrow. I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>Joss went to open the door, wondering who could possibly ring her bell at this hour. It was late into the night. The sky had been gray all day, the air filled with the telltale signs that snow was about to fall, but was now a deep black dotted with stars, the moon hanging low.<p>

When she opened the door it felt like she'd been punched in the gut. All air left her lungs, she found herself rooted on the spot. She took in the long dark coat that covered the usual suit, his hands red from the cold, his sunken eyes and sharp cheekbones, as well as his scruffy face. It was all she needed to know he had lost his way again.

She felt overwhelmed with emotions. Sorrow and happiness were fighting for dominance, anger at him and herself, soon followed by fear until relief took over. She reached to touch his face; the need to assure herself he was really here was too great. His skin was cold under her palm and the thought that maybe it wasn't as real as she'd thought, that maybe he wasn't here in the flesh after all, frightened her for a brief second. If she could touch him, she reasoned, it meant he was here.

Joss abruptly lowered her hand, as though it burned her. The only thing burning was her anger. How dare he show up to her door as though nothing happened? How could he? But it was what she wanted was it not? That was why she issued the invitation in the first place. She'd known neither Shaw or Finch would accept it, that neither of them would have celebrated Christmas with her and her family but John, she'd held out hope he would find his way back to her somehow.

She'd prayed he was okay, prayed he was safe and would come back. She had convinced herself that was what she really wanted no matter what happened between them. Only now that he was here, she felt betrayed. Still, he was here at her doorstep. That counted for something, right?

"John..." Her voice caught in her throat, her eyes filled with tears she was too proud to shed.

It took him days to gather the courage to see her. Weeks even. He'd driven by her brownstone many times since he'd been back. He'd sometimes stand on the other side of the sidewalk and watch her live without him. When he caught her smiling he thought he'd made the right decision, that leaving her behind had been the right thing to do, that maybe she'd come to see that and appreciate his efforts in trying to do what was right. Then she would get this look of worry on her face and absently look out the window, almost as though she knew he was out there. In those moments he wanted to cross the street to get to her. He had a couple of times, but he could never bring himself to knock on her door or ring her bell.

He called her one night, when the scotch hadn't been strong enough to numb him. The bottle had lied empty and long forgotten on the floor of his loft, mocking him. It taunted him to sink lower, to open another bottle to dull the ache, to fill the void. He'd known then he didn't want to go back to this dark place, he still had enough fight left in him, still had time to pull himself up. So he'd called her in the middle of the night and she'd answered.

Her voice was laced with sleep and worry. He could have kicked himself then. Of course she would worry, no one called in the middle of the night unless there was an emergency. He should have hung up as soon as she answered, but he was selfish. He just had to hear her voice. Somehow she had known it was him, or maybe she had hoped it was the case. That's when he'd chosen to hung up. He wasn't ready to talk to her then. He was ready now. At least he thought he was.

When she opened the door dressed in tight leggings, feet clad in Christmas themed socks, the really corny ones she loved to wear around the holidays, one of the old, frumpy, and purposefully ugly—she insisted on that—cardigans she wore around the house when she was cold, and a top that gave him a good peek at her bandages, he lost all the courage he'd previously had, along with his words. The bandages were a painful reminder of the fate she almost encountered. A painful reminder of the cruel way he'd almost lost her. She closed the cardigan and crossed her arms blocking his view of her bandages. He must have been staring. He looked her in the eyes instead.

Their usual was spark gone.

When she touched his face, he thought he would break right there and then. He could see the love she still held out for him in her eyes. She still cared. She hadn't given up on him. He closed his eyes for a second, thanking whoever allowed this angel to cross paths with a sinner like him. When he opened them again, he saw the hurt, the pain he'd caused and when she withdrew her hand, he felt the familiar chilling caress of his demons instead. At least she'd blinded them with her light and gave him a reprieve, a few seconds of peace.

"John..." she said with tears in her eyes and he lost all the resolve he had. He cupped her

face and kissed her.

It was hesitant, it was clumsy but she didn't pull away from him. When she kissed him back he felt all his confidence come back to him in a rush. His kiss became passionate, hungry. She backed up into her home pulling him with her by his coat. She was holding on to the fabric like a person lost at sea holds on to a lifeline, with strength and despair. He pushed her door closed with his foot, half-aware they'd given the neighbors something to talk about.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter is not beta proofed, all errors are my own.**

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><p>"I hate you", she half smiled, trying to keep from sobbing. Despite her resolves not to cry in front of him, she was. The love she'd felt pouring out of him when he kissed her proved what had been said weren't lies and it overwhelmed her.<p>

She'd spent nearly a month convincing herself to move on, that what he'd said, what she'd been feeling were not real. She told herself that the situation they were in and the near death experience… all of these things were heightening their emotions. Yes, love was there, but not the romantic kind she told herself over and over again. The more she tried to convince herself of that fact, the more she was sure she was lying to herself.

The words he'd spoken, they had to be true. If it had been any other man she would have been inclined to consider another alternative, but it was John. He didn't say much with words so when he used them, they meant something.

He kissed her forehead. "I know. I'm sorry." He held her tight, wrapping his arms around her, cradling her head.

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><p>"Where is Taylor?" He spoke loud enough for her to hear from the kitchen where she busied herself making hot cocoa for the both of them. She'd been glad he accepted her offer although she was sure he did so for her benefit. She needed the space to think and process what was happening.<p>

"With his father. They wanted me to rest for tomorrow."

They used small talk to fill the silence, purposefully avoiding the elephant in the room. The hurt and anger Joss had felt when first opening the door were still present but the love and happiness his return had brought were overwhelming. Still, they need to talk.

Joss came out of the kitchen with two big mugs filled to the brim. She put extra marshmallows in John's cup in hope to satiate his sweet tooth. She set his in front of him on her wooden coffee table and sat on the couch being careful to leave enough space between them. He'd notice the distance she was deliberately putting between them and shifted slightly so his body was angled towards hers, his legs spread open in the small space between the couch and the table, his knee close to hers. It wasn't subtle at all, he was trying to close the distance between them. That served to rile her up. She moved to the end of the couch, her back to the armrest, her legs to her chest and her mug nestled in her hands. She took a sip, her eyes never leaving him. He looked tense, anxious, nothing like the way he used to be around her.

He took a sip of his own beverage and she giggled once he put the mug back in its place. Serious, intimidating John with a chocolate milk mustache was a sight to be seen. He shot her a questioning look and looked around the living room wondering what had her laughing.

"Nice mustache," she smiled but he didn't smile back, instead he wiped the milk from his upper lip.

It broke her heart. Teasing each other and flirting were a big part of their relationship; the default setting, really. It was their umbrella under the rain, their only way to let the other in without erecting more walls around their hearts. Many times teasing had led to deeper conversations. That's how they got to know each other so well. That's how she came to fall in love with him. If they didn't have this, what was left?

She absently rubbed at her bandages to relieve the itchiness of the healing scar. In an instant he was in her personal space, holding the hand that had been on her chest and a look of concern, laced with something deeper she couldn't quite decipher, on his face.

"Does it hurt? Do you want something for it?" There it was again, the concern, the sign he cared. She pulled her hand from his and wrapped it around her warm mug.

"Don't." She said dryly. He flinched and scooted away from her just enough to leave a gap between them but it wasn't enough. She placed her mug on her coffee table and got up to pace.

"Joss, I'm sorry." There it was again, an apology. She knew he was sorry but she would like to hear him say why he was for once. Did he knew why she was hurt and mad at him? Or did he just know he screwed up and an apology was the way to mellow her out? So she asked. She had to.

"Sorry for what, John? Breaking my heart or leaving the country without a word?" She glared at him daring him to answer but he was smart enough to know when to shut up and when not to. She hated that, she wanted a fight. She wanted him to answer say something so she could let out all the anger rightfully directed at him. But he wasn't one for confrontation, he ran, that's what he did. That's why they were in this situation in the first place.

"'Whether you like it or not, Joss, you're not alone' your words, remember? What changed?"

"You took a bullet to save me." There was no hesitation behind his answer. She stopped pacing to look at him. He was angry at her.

"I was doing my job!" She shouted. He was so unreasonable sometimes. She was a cop. She was here to protect and she did what she had to. For him and for anyone who could have been in the vicinity when Simmons was shooting. Anyone could have been hurt. John was unarmed and wounded she needed to protect him.

"No, you walked into a death trap." She opened her mouth to say something but he cut her off before she had the chance. "I told you I couldn't lose you and you took a bullet for me."

"You were unarmed and Simmons was shooting. What was I supposed to do? Stand by and watch you die?"

"You mean like I did with you?" He'd raised his voice to match hers and that caused her to shut up. Any and all thoughts and cutting words she'd had for him left her. Then his tone was softer. "Your heart stopped. I had your blood on me. I had to leave you on the sidewalk because they would have asked too many questions and that would have put us in danger.

"I had to go through Taylor to know if you'd made it or not. Shaw and Finch, even Fusco, they all told me to stay away from you, to not go visit you because they would want to know who I was to you. I had to lie to be with you in that room. That's always how it's going to be."

"It doesn't have to." Joss said softly. She moved to sit back down on the couch, next to him. She looped her arm with his and rested her head on his shoulder. She sensed him relax as she did so. They stayed like this in silence for a moment, each absorbing what the other said.

"So you had to go to Italy to avoid me, I'm flattered." She joked. She needed the lightness, she hated where her thoughts were going. She felt more than she heard the small chuckle coming from him. Small victory, she thought. "How is it?"

"Very...Italian." John joked and she laughed. "It's beautiful."

"You should take me there sometime." There, it was in the open. She wasn't ready to give up when they were this close to make it happen. She wanted to give them a shot, she knew it could work. She had to believe it. He was free to take her up on her offer or to pass it but at least she tried. If they were doomed as he believed, she could at least say she didn't go down without a fight.

"I'd love to." It came after a few seconds of heavy silence, just as Joss was about to give up hope that they could give this a try. She looked up at him, his smile catching her off guard. She smiled in return, tears filling her eyes. He kissed her then. A tender kiss full of promises. Promises she knew he wouldn't break.

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><p><strong>AN: The third and final chapter will be posted later today. Merry Christmas!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here is the last chapter. Again, this is not beta proofed so all errors are my own. **

**Thank you for reading and I hope everyone enjoyed their day!**

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><p>They talked for hours, slowly rebuilding the base of their relationship. He helped her with her bandages and with the last minute gift wrapping. She battled off sleep not wanting to be one moment without him when he'd just found his way back to her, until he admonished her that sleep was important for recovery. She refrained from telling him she didn't have much sleep lately. In a few hours they found their good place. There was still much to talk about and they would get to it eventually but for now they were taking it slow. She assured him she wasn't tired but fell asleep in front of the Christmas movie they were watching.<p>

She woke up in her couch, her heavy quilt covering her. The mugs that had been left on the table had disappeared and a big, rectangular velvet box with a note were in their place. Her heart hammered in her chest as she sat and pondered whether to open it now or later. He promised he would come and celebrate Christmas with her, Taylor, Paul and her mother, so he could have easily gave her the gift later. She started by reading the note, afraid that he'd run on her once again. But she quickly shook that though away, she had to learn to trust that he would not do it again.

_Had to take a shower and change. Enjoy your gift._

_PS: Remind me to tell you the story behind it on our first date._

She eagerly grabbed the box and opened it to reveal a necklace. The chain was thin with three small and discreet pendants, she could easily conceal them under her shirt if needed. It was a necklace she could wear everyday on the job but it stood out enough that she could wear it on a girl's night out or at a more important event. She took it out of the confined of its box to take a look at the pendants. One was of a jasmines flower with what appeared to be a small diamond at the center, the two others were the letter 'T' and 'J'. She had a good idea what each of these stood for but she would still ask him about it. She wanted to hear the story.

Joss had just emerged from the bathroom after a relaxing shower when she heard the doorbell shrill. She was sure it wasn't Taylor and Paul, Taylor had a key he would have let himself in so that left out her mom or John and as much as she loved her mother she really hoped it was the latter. She wrapped herself in one of her frumpy cardigans and rushed down the stairs, pausing just at the door. It was him, she could tell even through the blurry glass of the front door. She took a moment for a breathing to be normal, smooth out imaginary wrinkles from her clothes and readjust the necklace so he could see she was wearing it. Then she opened the door. She'd expected to see John but seeing her son, Paul and her mother right behind him, that was a surprise.

Taylor gave her a quick peck on the cheek before making a beeline for the living room where she knew he would be opening his gifts. Paul looked confused as to who was John but seemed to go along with it nonetheless. As for her mother she had that knowing smile on her face, the one that promised she would ask questions when she'd have the chance and moved on to the living room, leaving Joss and John alone. He was clean shaven and his trademark smirk was greeting her. He was every bit the man she'd come to know. They were standing close to each other. She wanted to kiss him and she could see he wanted too but both were wary of her guest in the other room. They'd agreed to take it slow and meeting the family was definitely the complete opposite of that, it was best if they kept their new status as a couple to themselves for now. So he he brushed his fingers to hers instead, although, if anyone were to walk in on them, they'd know by their body language and how close they stood to one another that something was going on.

"So you've met my mom, huh?" She had to look up to meet his eyes because he was towering over her. In socks she didn't have to luxury of the thick soles of her combat boots to give her a bit of height—even if it was only one inch or two.

"Your mom? I could have sworn it was your sister" he said in faux disbelief.

"You know it only works if she can hear you?" She laughed.

"I already told her." Of course he did, she shook her head. "Nice necklace," he pointed.

"Isn't it?" She smiled at him. "Thank you, John. It really is beautiful. I love it."

After the hearty Christmas breakfast, the unwrapping of presents and the yearly Christmas picture in front of the tree—much to his surprise, John got to be a part of it. In a way, it served to commemorate his first Christmas with them—John quickly realized why her son had wanted her to rest the night before. Their Christmas day was full of activities. They went to several shelters to give out boxes of food, clothes and toys for kids and when the sky went dark in the late afternoon they went ice skating. Or rather Paul, Taylor and Denise, Joss' mom, went ice skating. John didn't know how to ice skate, Joss promised to teach him and Taylor joked it was a requirement to be a bad ass and so he had to downgrade him to the lower level. Joss couldn't ice skate just yet, physical activities were too painful. So they sat together on a bench, watching Taylor race against his father and grandmother. He loved to hear the laugh coming from Joss any time Taylor did something silly on the ice rink.

She scooted closer to him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, giving her a quick kiss to the temple before she snuggled close to him. It wasn't exactly being discreet, or really taking things slow. They'd tried to keep it a secret but Denise told them in not so many words there was no need to pretend. Her exact words had been "Cut the crap, already. We know." John knew where Joss' no nonsense attitude came from. Finally they came back to Joss' home where they enjoyed Christmas cookies and hot chocolate.

"Let's see if anyone's Christmas wish came true," Denise said as she place a wooden box on the table. At John's confusion, Joss quickly explained their tradition. Each year, on the first of December they wrote down a wish they wanted to see come true by Christmas and on Christmas day they would read them a loud and see if it happened.

"Keeps the magic alive," she'd said with a shrug but he could tell it meant a lot to her.

"I wish for a white Christmas," Denise read. John thought nothing of it but everyone else cracked up laughing around him.

"I wanted to win this year," Taylor whined. Then Joss explained they would have a snow fight whenever it snowed on Christmas.

Every time Denise picked up a piece of paper, John could see Joss tense. He wondered what she'd wished for and how embarrassing it was for her to fidget like she was. Denise kept reading the wishes until there was one more left. When she came down to this one, she didn't read it aloud after reading it for herself like she'd done with the others. Instead she looked to Joss then John before handing Joss the piece of paper. No one seemed to give her grief about her wish not being read like the others, sensing that it was something really personal.

Then came the time to say goodbye, Paul and Joss' mother left first,

John stayed a while longer but soon—too soon if you asked him—Finch gave him a call and he had to go. Joss gave him some of the leftovers Christmas cookies for him, Finch and Shaw, kissed him goodbye—five times because neither of them wanted him to go—before sending him on his way.

When he put his hands in his pocket to try and keep them warm until he got to his car, he found a piece of paper he was sure hadn't been here before. He unfolded it. He immediately recognized Joss' handwriting. He read Joss' wish with a smile.

_I wish John would come back to me._

This one had definitely came true.


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