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Home For the Holidays	By : mvsanche Category: 1 through F > Blindspot Views: 1940 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Blindspot. No money is made from this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Home For the Holidays
- 1
A/N: While I'm waiting for the category to be added, I wanted to start posting my story based on the television show Blindspot. While the initial chapters deal with the events from the midseason finale, the rest of the story will be taking place throughout various holidays. Hope you all enjoy!

Jane won't tell me what happened between now and our kiss. She won't tell me why I found her wet and shaking on my doorstep. She won't tell me why she looks so lost. And it scares the hell out of me – even as I step aside and invite her in. My mind is racing as I watch her take each shaky step into the foyer. There was maybe an hour between our kiss and now that was unaccounted for. What could have happened in that hour to change her into this empty shell?
My sister walks out of her room. She's just put Sawyer down for the night, we'd planned on sharing a glass of wine, talking about what I should do about this Jane situation. Thanksgiving was coming and I wanted her here – professionally or not so professionally. But Sarah takes one look at Jane and opens her mouth to start asking questions – this obviously isn't a social call. I'm quick to cut her off, the introverted brother she knew being replaced by Jane's protector. If Jane won't answer me, she's in no shape to deal with my sister. So I order Sarah to make some coffee, while I drag Jane into the bathroom.
I don't ask her permission and she doesn't stop me as I peel off first her jacket, then her tank top. I've imagined taking her clothes off more times in the last hour than I'd like to admit. It was hard not to wonder what it would feel like to run my hands down that alabaster skin, to kiss her in the privacy of my home. In any of the dozen scenarios that played through my mind having her half-naked in my bathroom after that mind-numbing kiss would have had me raring to go, but there is nothing sexual about this. My first priority is getting her warm, making her feel safe, fighting the urge to kill whoever did this to her.
"I know you don't want to talk." Jane eyes me warily. "I just want to know you're okay."
Nothing she says will convince me, we both know it, but I need something – anything. My mind is going a mile a minute. Was she mugged? Raped? Had someone from her past finally caught up with her? Was it that fiancé of hers? I pull a towel around her shoulders, rubbing her arms up and down. The longer she goes without answering me the worse I begin to imagine. My only distraction is Sarah, who saw the wet clothes on the floor and brought replacements.
"She can sleep in this," she says, passing me a white cotton nightgown. A weak smile is all I can manage until I meet her expectant eyes. Always a mother.
"Thanks."
Sarah gives me a look of concern before disappearing back into the room she shares with Sawyer. My voice sounds strange even to my own ears. Strained, needing to regain control I've lost. I was grateful my sister made no mention of it. There was going to come a time when Jane needed to say something – to let me know she was alive in there. The longer she kept silent, shivering in my arms, the less able I was to keep it together.
"Jane…"
For the first time since our kiss Jane looked at me, really looked at me, and what I saw was startling. There was ferocity in those eyes, a need to possess, to take control that I'd never seen. She was always a little bit nervous, unsure of her own needs and abilities, unable to communicate them. Half the time I found myself intuitively sensing what was bothering her, the other half I was just guessing. But that look wasn't foreign to me; it didn't leave much to guess work. After all, I'd seen it reflected in my mirror every time I thought of her in that black dress, wearing that ring on her finger.
Jane shrugged the towel onto the floor, peeling off her sports bra, and flinging it at my feet. My mouth hung open a little, shocked by her behavior twice in one night, it was a record. I tried not to stare at her breasts, tried not to think about taking those rosy buds in my mouth, tried not to think anything really. Jane could read my face though, she always could. Not that it mattered; I was too distracted, following the descent of her fingers as she slowly unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied out of them, to cover up my desire to have her.
"Jane I think we should – " I start talking, my ragged voice barely audible, trying desperately to put some space between us.
"Stop talking Kurt."
My mouth opens and snaps shut just as quickly. I can sense the strain inside her and for once I'm not inclined to argue. It's obvious to me Jane is struggling with an inner demon – something eating away at who she's become – and more than that she obviously knows what she needs from me. If not, she would have returned to her safe house, or bureau headquarters. She would've called Zapata or Reade or alerted her detail. But she hadn't.
Jane had shown up on my doorstep for a reason. I watch, torn, as she reaches for the rim of her underwear. Plain and black like her sports bra, my mouth suddenly goes dry. They're functional little things, not made to have an effect on men. But the way she looks at me as she slides them off, that proprietary look, it's fanning the flames of desire –fighting against the fear I'd felt moments before.
So I nod, following her lead. She lifts her arms up as I debate my next step, and just for a moment I see a glimpse of the old Jane. Or the new Jane. Or whoever she had become since I knew her – a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Jane can read me like a book whenever she wants and surprisingly the idea doesn't bother me as much as it would've in the past. I slide the gown over her head, admiring the way it flows over her lithe body in slow motion. She's tinier than Sarah, so the gown is a bit looser than I'd like, but I vow to change that come the weekend.
"Take me to bed Kurt."
It's the second time she's used my name tonight and I'm more than happy to comply. Both arms wrap around me as I pick her up, cradling her still shaking body close to me. Jane's extremities are freezing, but as she leans her head against my chest I know it'll be okay. I've got enough warmth for both of us.
- 1
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Home For the Holidays