Title: In The Heat of the Moment
Author: wildwordwomyn
Word Count: 541
Fandom/Pairing: Person of Interest gen/pre-slash starring John Reese/Harold Finch, Jessica Arndt
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Found this story on my laptop and thought, hey, why not try to finish it while my muse is still cooperating?
Disclaimers/Warnings: No spoilers. I don't own or rent any of the people/places/things involved. Rinch in nature. Read at your own risk.
Summary: Finch saves John over and over again...
In the silence of surveillance John reminisces. Jessica's eyes lighting up when she laughed. The hauntingly bitter smile spreading across her face when she walked away from him in the airport the last time he saw her alive. Her smell. Dove soap, some unscented lotion, and that light, crisp body spray she'd started wearing during his time away. The turn his thoughts take isn't a good one, he's aware, but it loops around and around in his head anyway.
"Mr. Reese? Are you alright?" Finch calls suddenly into his ear. John hadn't even realized he'd called him until now.
"Do you know any good jokes, Finch?" he asks as he recovers. It's the first thing that comes to mind. Stupid, really, especially knowing how dry his employer's humor is, and yet the idea of him actually telling one makes the loop come to a screeching halt.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Jokes, Finch. Do you know any?"
"No, I don't. I'm not a joker, Mr. Reese."
"Well, that's a shame." It's not though. Not really. Because that voice in his ear settles him more than any joke ever could.
"Mr. Reese...," Finch sighs, exasperated. John smiles as he imagines the look on his face. "Was there something you actually needed or did you just want to tease me as per usual?"
Jessica's smile suddenly fades from his memory as he thinks about Finch's question. "No teasing this time," John finally answers. Something feels unfinished even as he says it and he knows he can't just leave it like that. He should, but he won't. "And I think you just gave me what I needed."
There's an almost inaudible noise on the other end of the line. A quick breath or a gasp, John's not sure. What he can be sure of is there's something else, something more going on here.
"Thank you, Finch." Saying it still hasn't gotten old. When did that happen?
Instead of acknowledging him Finch counters with, "Is Ms. Jones on the move?" His tone is hesitant, gentle. Kind.
It's been sounding like that more and more often lately. John, even as he wishes he wasn't, is pleased. Pleased that Finch cares, that he can't hide just how much. John wants him to continue to care despite his own fears. It makes him feel warm inside, rather than the dead iciness he'd carried around before Finch found him. As much as it scares him John needs that warmth to keep going.
"No. She will be soon, though, since her shift starts in an hour."
"Then you should have time to eat something. If I know you you haven't yet."
John smiles, hoping Finch can't see him. "Too well, Finch. You know me too well. I'll go grab a sandwich from a food truck down the street." As he steps away from the store-front he's been using as cover he asks, "Join me?" When he hears a wrapper in the background it's obvious that Finch is also eating. His smile grows wider. He's not thinking about Jessica anymore. Now his concerns are saving Ms. Jones from whoever is after her and returning to the library, to Finch.
Nothing else matters.
The End