Part One

Cold air bit at his face as he entered the old library. His breath hung in front of him in a heavy mist before being taken away by the rush of air that came as he opened the door.

It wasn't much warmer on the lower level of the library. John still saw his breath as he ran up the steps to the second floor. He ran a hand through his hair, hoping no ice crystals had formed. It felt like they had on his nose and ears.

His partner was nowhere to be found in the makeshift office amongst the shelves of books and papers. John glanced out the window, snow had started falling again. This was setting up to be one of the colder winters New York had seen in a while.

"Glad you were able to thaw yourself out long enough to join me, Mr. Reese," Finch's familiar drawl came from amongst the book shelves.

He appeared, holding a tall, lidded cup and handed it to John. The heat from the coffee loosened the muscles in his hand, seemed to travel all the way up his arm as he held it.

"Thanks," John said, taking a sip and sighing out of relief.

"They're saying we're going to have a record freeze after sunset this evening. I hope you have extra blankets," Finch lifted his eyebrows.

"I'll be just fine, Finch. It is nice that you worry about me, though."

Finch rolled his eyes. "We have another number, Mr. Reese. It came up last night. A Mr. Conrad Frederick De Kamp III."

"The Freddie De Kamp?" Reese leaned down so he was level with the computer monitors.

Finch cleared his throat. Reese stood up and Finch took his seat at the desk.

"I'm not surprised you've heard of him. He's one of the richest people in the country. Several countries, in fact."

"Well, so are you."

"But as I am dead, I don't count, Mr. Reese." Finch scrolled through a page on one of the monitors. "The point is that he will be difficult to get to. His list of potential enemies is extensive. He's bought out businesses thus causing many to lose their jobs; his political viewpoints are very public. Unofficially, he's done business with a few of our late mob bosses. Needless to say he has round the clock security in his houses, his offices, both of his jets, and boats. Wherever he goes, he's watched and protected, in some ways better than the President. Along with being a brilliant business man, he's abnormally paranoid."

Reese blinked. "Sounds like you two would get along, Finch. So, with all of this security, why would he need me to help him?"

Finch swiveled in his chair, looking up at John. "He may not be the victim, Mr. Reese. Your job is to find out which he is and act accordingly, remember? My advice is that you keep your surveillance to public arenas. It will be slower work, but I have a few ideas that will help you along."

"Such as?"

Finch turned back to the monitors. "Mr. De Kamp is always busy, almost always in the public eye. Press conferences, charity events and so on. You can almost take your pick."

"Why do I feel like you're not telling me the whole story?" John eyed him suspiciously.

"There is a particular event that I think you should attend. It will be difficult to get into, but I believe I can manage it."

"What is it?"

"It's a charity event that Mr. De Kamp holds every year for his father's foundation. Security is tight on the outside, but once you get in, there's a little more breathing room."

John studied his partner for a moment. "What's the catch, Finch?"

"You'll only need to observe, perhaps get close to Mr. De Kamp if possible. There is also a press conference being held the day before. That should be easy enough for you to infiltrate."

"Finch," John said sternly.

Finch glanced up at John, like a mouse caught in a trap. "I'm afraid you won't like it, Mr. Reese."

Great, it was snowing again. Sam blew on her hot chocolate after it nearly burned her lips off a few seconds earlier. Instead of taking a sip, however, she set the mug down on the counter in response to a squawk that came from the living room.

Wrapping herself in her blanket, Sam shuffled into the living room when someone knocked at the door.

"Okay. I'm coming!" she called. Sam peeked into the Pack & Play that sat next to the couch before scampering over to the door.

Sam opened the door and had to resist her first impulse. "John!" she said. Rather than tackle him, which is what she first considered doing, she stood on tip toe and wrapped her arms around his neck. John smiled and hugged her back.

"You are freezing! Haven't you ever heard of a hat?" She put her hands to his face as they broke apart.

"I was outside for just a minute," John said, smiling.

"Yeah, tell that to your ears. They're like lobsters. Come in and warm up."

A cry came from inside the apartment. John peered curiously past Sam as she invited him in.

John breathed as he entered Sam's apartment. It was as though, with her, he was allowed to breathe for a moment.

The apartment itself looked rather barren. A few boxes lined one bare wall, and the only furniture was a couch, rocking chair, and the Pack & Play.

The crying grew louder, more forceful.

"Ooooh, whassamatter?" Sam cooed, reaching into the Pack & Play. She pulled out a baby, swaddled in several blankets and also wearing a tiny knit hat.

She bounced him up and down, but he continued fussing. "I just changed you, and you just had your nap… are you hungry again?" Sam asked the little baby, acting as though he was able to answer. The baby remained upset despite her dulcet tones.

John watched her and took off his coat, but there wasn't really anywhere to put it.

"Oh, hang on," Sam shuffled up to him, her blanket lay forgotten on the floor next to the makeshift crib. "Will you take him for a second?"

She gently set the baby in John's arms and laughed at the way he held him. She pulled at John's right arm, "One arm under his bum," she explained. "The other to support his back and head," Sam guided John's hand to the baby's back and neck. "There. He's only about two and a half months, and they can't really support themselves yet at that age. I'll hang your coat up, and I'll make him a bottle. Oh," she looked to the couch, which was made up as a bed at the moment. With one sweep, she ripped the bedding off of the couch and threw it in a corner. "Have a seat."

Sam scampered into a hallway with John's coat. Then back in and past John into the kitchen.

"Did you just move in?" he called to her. He lowered himself slowly onto the couch so as not to jostle the still fussy baby.

Sam laughed from the kitchen. "Yeah! About three months ago. Don't judge me too harshly."

John smiled to himself. "No, not too harshly," he said. "I shouldn't, should I? Judge her too harshly." He continued talking in a low voice to the baby until the baby stopped, and rested on John's chest as though exhausted from the effort of crying.

Sam came out of the kitchen, holding a bottle and looking astounded. "He's quiet."

John shrugged innocently, gently patting the baby's back to a slow rhythm.

Sam rushed over and sat down next to them, looking at the baby's face. "He's just sitting there. He's not asleep, he's just… there. What did you do?"

John shook his head. "Baby's tend to... like me."

Sam laughed, baffled. "I'll add that to my list then. Do you want to feed him?" She held up the bottle.

"I'd better not," John said, lifting the baby into Sam's arms. She sat back, cradling the little boy, who began to fuss once he left John, and put the rubber nipple to his mouth. He calmed down again, busy with his new task.

"What list?" John asked.

Sam grinned slyly. She hefted the baby up a little and crossed her legs upon the couch cushion, resting the child in her lap as she fed him. "I'm compiling a list of Interesting Facts About John Reese. 'Good With Babies' will be added to it. Eventually, I plan to publish it on the internet."

John frowned and glared a little.

"Wow. I'm kidding! Calm down, John."

John relaxed again. "So, whose…" he gestured to the baby.

"Right, yes, this is Benjamin Kenneth Jefferson. Eva's son. I'm giving her and her mother-in-law a break. I took him for the weekend," she took off Ben's little hat and stroked the shock of dark hair on his head. "Thank the maker it's Sunday. She'll be coming to pick him up a little later. One thing they neglected to tell me about this place when I moved in was that the heating isn't very reliable, especially in this cold. This room stays the warmest. We both have been sleeping out here." Sam pulled the bottle out of Ben's mouth and looked at the remaining contents. Ben squawked again and the bottle went back in.

John smiled as he watched her. "That's kind of a good look for you, Sam," he said before he could stop himself.

Sam raised her eyebrows in surprise. "The rock hard feminist inside me wants to smack you for that, but thank you. I've always liked kids. I'm pretty sure I'd like my own a lot more."

Ben began battling the bottle with is curled up fists.

"Are you finished?" Sam asked in a high voice. "You don't want it anymore?" She wiped off his face and sat him up. Ben leaned forward in her lap, his front supported by Sam's hand. He looked around blearily as Sam patted his back.

"How have you been doing?" John asked.

Sam looked back up at John, "To be completely honest, I'm tired of that question."

"Makes sense," John nodded. It had only been a little over three months since Sam had lost her family and her life had been turned upside down.

Ben let out a mini burp, disturbing the quiet.

"Ah! There we go!" Sam said happily.

Ben burped again in the silence. Sam continued patting him gently on the back.

"John."

"Yes?"

"You're not here just for a visit." She wasn't guessing.

John leaned forward and sighed. "No, I'm not. Sam – do you know how to dance?"

Sam's mouth opened out of surprise. "Is this your round about way of asking me out?"

"No," John went over Finch's explanation in his head once more. There had to be some way out of this. "There is a place I have to get into, but they don't allow singles inside."

"Single what?"

"People."

"So you need someone as a sort of… escort?"

Ben let out a big one and Sam, figuring that was the end of it, wrapped him up again and rested him against her.

"In a manner of speaking," John said.

"John, just tell me why you're here, and we can go from there."

"There is a charity event I have to go to this Friday night. In order to keep the numbers even, they don't allow singles inside. Being a cop, Carter can't do it, and Zoe will probably already be there with someone, and Finch says she's too recognizable anyway." John went on as though he were talking to himself.

"Zoe? Who's Zoe?"

"Just someone I've bumped into when I was working," John explained quickly.

"John, I don't think I've ever heard you say so much in one breath. Are you asking me to go to this thing with you?"

"Finch is, yes," John corrected, appearing a little uncomfortable. "It will only be for observation."

Sam's eyes widened and she gaped at him. "You're asking me to help you save someone, aren't you?"

"Sure."

"I'd love to," Sam said quickly.

John eyed her, uncomfortable with her eagerness. "It's formal, black tie, and a traditional dance, so I'm told."

Sam inhaled sharply through her teeth, her expression pained. "Do you dance? I don't really. Just a little swing."

"I've never had to, no."

"So what do we do?"

"When is Eva coming to pick up Ben?"

John's timing couldn't have been more perfect, because there was a knock at the door. John stood with Sam. She cradled the baby into his arms. Ben was asleep. John held him carefully so as not to wake him.

Sam opened the door. "Hey, I thought you weren't coming until this afternoon?"

"He couldn't stop worrying. You're our first sitter," Eva entered the room followed by a man with thick curly hair, glasses and a goatee. John turned holding the sleeping baby.

"Sam, who is this man holding my child?" the man with Eva asked. Eva elbowed him in the ribs.

"That's my friend, John, he just stopped by a few minutes ago." Sam introduced the man as Eva's husband, Leo.

"Is this the guy from the coffee shop?" He looked at Eva who nodded and winked at John.

"Eva says that you beat up some dude who was waving a gun in her face," Leo said, approaching John.

"More or less, yes," John muttered.

"Come on, babe, your Mom's waiting," Eva said. She took Ben from John and strapped the baby into a car seat.

"You know that I will shake this man's hand!" Leo pronounced.

"Yes, sweetie. Shake his hand, then let's go."