To Have and To Hold
John arrived at the library earlier than was really necessary – something that seemed to be happening a lot lately. The mysterious lair had become the center of his universe, and he looked forward to its sanctuary – and to its inhabitants.
Bear greeted him enthusiastically, his tail wagging wildly. John gave the dog a hearty pat and slipped him a couple of treats. Funny how such a simple thing could make him feel so good.
"Good morning, Mr. Reese."
The sound of his partner's voice brought with it a pleasant, warm feeling that he had stopped denying long ago. He was not surprised to find Finch already at work, softly tapping away at his keyboard. Harold looked up and accepted the tea John offered him, and John set a small box of pastries on the desk, well out of Bear's reach.
"You're here bright and early, Mr. Reese."
"My polo match was cancelled."
Harold suppressed a smile and shook his head. It was a comfortable routine, and they looked forward to a few relaxing moments together before getting down to work. Their days tended to be unpredictable, to say the least, and it looked like today would be no exception.
"We have a busy day, Mr. Reese. According to her calendar, our new number is getting married in three days, and she has a meeting with her wedding planner at the Manhattan Bridal Exposition in twenty-five minutes. You can get eyes and ears on her there."
As always, the threat could be coming from any number of sources, and John would stick close to the future bride until Harold uncovered some leads. He thought of something as he turned to go.
"Bear is almost out of food. Will you have time to pick some up?"
"Not a problem. I was planning on taking Bear out for some new toys today anyway."
"More toys? Finch, you're spoiling him!"
.
John arrived at the exhibition hall and began his search for the pretty woman pictured in the photo that Finch had provided. He wandered among the vendors - photographers, florists, and wedding cake designers - feeling distinctly out of place. Finch had encouraged him to alter his normal wardrobe for this excursion, ("Mr. Reese, could you please try to blend,") but John hadn't seen the point. Now, as he squeezed between a towering floral display and a rack of pastel bridesmaid dresses, he had to admit that Harold had been right. The Man in the Suit was sticking out like the proverbial sore thumb.
"Father of the bride?"
John blinked at the pleasant, middle-aged woman who had appeared before him. She took his momentary confusion as an affirmation and continued. "Good for you! We encourage family members to get involved. Weddings aren't just for brides anymore!" Having no good response for this, he nodded politely and moved on. Then he spotted his girl.
Jane Marley, 28, was an up-and-coming fashion designer whose work was beginning to draw considerable attention in the world of haute couture. She was chatting enthusiastically with several girlfriends. As they discussed accessories for the eight bridesmaids and two flower girls, it became clear that she was planning a wedding of epic proportions. Jane glanced at her watch and looked around. Apparently she hadn't connected with her wedding planner yet.
Something brushed up against him and John spun around, his hand automatically on his weapon. A man clad in formal wear was attempting to measure him for a tuxedo. "Fifteen percent off if you reserve today," he offered. The man had no idea how fortunate he was to still be attached to his kneecaps.
Jane had spotted the coordinator - Kyle - and was happily waving him over. He appeared to be in his thirties, thin, and more than a little flustered. He walked up quickly and kissed her on both cheeks. This was their final meeting before the wedding, and it was obvious that Jane planned to review every detail. The situation was somewhat complicated by the fact that Kyle carried three phones, all of which were chirping furiously. Jane was not to be deterred, however, and calmly studied the schedule and photographs he presented to her. She suggested several small changes, and when she was satisfied she shook the man's hand generously and turned to leave with her friends.
For John, it was not a moment too soon. A helpful young woman was asking him if he needed any help writing his vows. It was definitely time to go.
.
John was trailing the happy bride to her next destination – the final fitting of her wedding dress – when his phone rang. It was Finch, and he sounded alarmed.
"Mr. Reese! You did a poor job of hiding your fast food wrappers. Have you forgotten our discussion on the dangers of this type of food? The trans fats alone are treacherous, and then there's the sodium content…"
John had to smile. It was nice, that Harold cared about his diet, even if it was getting increasingly difficult to sneak the occasional greasy burger. He tried to get Finch back on track.
"What about Jane? Any ideas about where the threat may be coming from?"
"Not yet. I've conducted thorough background checks on all of Ms. Marley's co-workers and business associates, and cross-referenced that data with recent criminal activity. There appears to be no correlation. Nor have I discovered any animosity towards Jane among her family and friends. I think I'll expand my investigation to include her fiancé. Perhaps he has an unhappy ex-girlfriend in his past. I'll be in touch when I have something."
.
At day's end, no obvious threat had yet materialized, and John planned to continue his surveillance into the evening. To please Harold, he grabbed some dinner at a local health food store before heading off to his next location.
Jane's bachelorette party was being held at a trendy, upscale restaurant. It was a spacious establishment, and as the revelers gathered at the bar, John had no problem securing a small table in the corner of the room.
The bride and her friends were in high spirits. John was on red alert, but so far the night was progressing more or less as expected. He had no idea what was in a "naughty schoolgirl" or a "sex on the beach," but he made a mental note to never again take a good beer for granted.
Jane began opening her presents, and the evening became considerably more raucous. The girls giggled and downed shots as she held up each provocative undergarment. John raised an eyebrow. Women's lingerie seemed to be…evolving.
His reverie was suddenly interrupted.
"Yippee-ki-yay!"
Three buff young men in cowboy outfits had sauntered into the room. The women squealed, and scrambled for their wallets in search of singles. John sighed. He had never encountered this scenario during his time with the CIA. Ever the trained professional, he tried to keep his eyes focused squarely on Jane. But she was in the thick of things, helping to remove cowboy hats and kerchiefs. And when the chaps came off, John knew that his evening could not possibly, ever, in a million years, get any worse.
Then a bleary-eyed blonde from the bar caught sight of him and cheerfully – and loudly – invited him to join in with the now gyrating cowboys.
As all eyes turned toward him, John briefly thought about turning his gun on himself.
.
Finch was waiting for him at the library, and his expression was positively gleeful.
"So, Mr. Reese…" Harold was struggling to get the words out, and John looked at him with amazement. Harold Finch – the epitome of discipline and decorum – was barely holding it together.
"So, Mr. Reese, would you care to share your thoughts regarding the evening's entertainment?"
Actually, John had several thoughts about what he had just observed, including a few interesting ones involving Harold which he simply couldn't process at the moment. So he said nothing and settled for shooting his friend the dirtiest look he could muster. Finch seemed to find this funnier still, and finally dissolved into a fit of laughter. John just stared. It was the most unseemly behavior he had ever witnessed in the other man, and he really hoped that Finch was not picturing him in a cowboy outfit.
Ultimately, Harold's good humor was contagious, and John began to laugh himself. It was good to see Harold enjoying himself, even if John was the source of his current hilarity – or perhaps because he was the source of it. They were devoted to their crusade, but the intensity of their work took its toll. They lived in daily peril, constantly placing themselves – and each other – in mortal jeopardy. It made a moment like this, a shared moment of unreserved mirth, all the more precious, and John thoroughly appreciated it.
.
John was in the library, comfortably biding his time. Harold had found a new restaurant he wanted to try for dinner. John couldn't remember the name of it, but he was fairly certain that there would be no trans fats involved with his meal.
The Marley case was finally resolved. As it turned out, the source of the threat had been Jane's stressed-out wedding planner. After too many years of crying bridezillas, intoxicated grooms and mermaid-themed weddings, the man had finally snapped. John could almost sympathize.
John leaned back and propped his feet up on Harold's desk. He was still thinking about Jane and her wedding spectacular. He privately wished her well. While their primary goal was saving lives, they were also protective of the personal lives of their numbers – the normal lives that they themselves could never have.
He watched Harold throw the ball for Bear, and the dog scramble happily after it.
During those soulless years with the CIA, John had become almost devoid of feeling. It had been necessary, the only way to carry out the often horrific duties of his job. But there had been no reason to believe that he could ever recover, that he could ever feel like a whole person again.
And then, miraculously, Harold Finch and his crazy mission had entered his life. Doing this lifesaving work – and doing it with Harold – was also healing John. Finally, he felt like he was doing what he was meant to do. He had no idea where this journey with Harold and the numbers would lead him, but he was at peace with it. In fact, he was more at peace with his life than he could ever recall.
John smiled as Bear longingly eyed a rare first edition that Harold was moving to safety on a higher shelf. Sometimes he was simply in awe of the many good things that had suddenly come his way.
No, his life wasn't normal. But it certainly felt right.
FIN
A/N: It's so fluffy! I know. I just really want them to be happy. Does John Reese ever really laugh? I don't know. But if he does, I like to think it happens like this, sharing a moment with Harold. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to juxtapose the wedding scenario with moments from John and Harold's own evolving domestic situation. (Giving Bear a bath together? Best scene ever.)I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think.