PIERCE
Logan Pierce was used to making people jump through hoops. It was one of the best parts of being a multi-billionaire. It was like running your own personal dog show; where the treats were checks and grants and donations and infusions of much needed cash.
At the moment, he was watching the first person he'd truly cared about since his father's death walk out of the Ruskie rathskeller without so much as a backward glance. It hurt a bit. To have friends was common enough; he liked being social with a good crowd. But something always held him back; opening his home was different than opening his heart. He knew most of the people in his circle were there because of his social status and bank balance. In fact, he could count the number of people who would even acknowledge him if he went bankrupt tomorrow on 2 fingers. John's antics at the auction had been amusing, and his pitch to stick close had been downright intriguing… a rare thing for a perpetual sufferer of ennui.
Logan didn't believe in mindless collecting. He acquired the finest, the best, the only. One suit, one car, one watch… as long as it was the best, it was all that was needed. He had a sinking feeling that he'd just let a one of a kind walk out the door… a sort he desperately needed: one true friend.
An hour later, Logan's night got exponentially worse. His partner was trying to kill him; one of his oldest acquaintances in the world and the second closest thing he had to a friend was about to have him chucked off of the 342 bridges in the city. All he could think was, John come back. Save me. Please.
Justin sneered as he stalked off to a waiting getaway vehicle. "What the hell do you know about friends? All your friends want you dead! Even your new friend has left you." Drawing a deep breath, he prepared to meet his maker... or at least the frigid water below. When a gunshot rang out and he found himself unceremoniously dumped on the ground, he spotted John and instantly smiled.
When things had settled somewhat and returned as close to normal was for him, "Why didn't you tell me about Justin?" "Haven't you heard? I have a reckless disregard for my own safety." "Maybe you should see someone about that." "I'll think about it," Logan promised. At the mention of John's next 'hapless stranger' the whine of his high performance engine groaned as it was revved in Park. "Just tell me it's not gonna be that guy."
REESE
"And I'm assuming you know how to tie one of these?" Harold had asked, indicating the bowtie chosen to top off the bespoke suit he'd selected. John shot him a look, holding his gaze as he placed the phone to his ear just as the line connected. "Zoe… John. I need a little favor..."
When it came right down to it, John was a man of action. There were two things he couldn't stand: inaction and bad action. He hadn't put any thought into saving Pierce's life, except to access his emergency database and focus on proper intubation technique… tilt the head slightly, ease past the tongue, careful to hit the lung not traverse the esophagus… slow breaths. He'd gotten the decanter to Carter for analysis, and gone to meet Finch, confident his charge would be resting after his ordeal. He'd never been comfortable with stagnation; sitting still made his feet go numb. Even if it was mostly mental activity, the feeling of doing something was better than doing nothing. It wasn't as if the assignment was proving boring- not by a long shot- but when John Reese wanted a breather, things were probably going just a bit too fast.
[Later still] If Logan wasn't going to take this seriously, neither was John. Leaving him to his friends, ignoring his calls to return, and resolutely clicking the screen to clear his text messages, John prepared to go home. Finch had been updating him on Bear's "condition" all day, and John began formulating a 'canine recovery plan' as he stomped down the high street. He had just decided to see if Zoe wanted to take custody for the weekend when he answered a call from Finch about a development in the case. Immediately he changed course and eased off the safety on his Glock. Hang on, Logan. I'm coming.
When he'd been directed to the bridge, he'd acted swiftly, taking down the thugs preparing to dump his charge into the Neva like so much week-old borscht. "Logan, I don't mean to try and run your life, but I think you could use some new friends." As John hauled him to his feet, the billionaire earnestly replied in the affirmative. "But at least I've got you, dude." His arm slung around John's shoulder in a gesture of fraternal camaraderie. It remained there for 4 seconds before John firmly gripped it and returned it to its owner's sphere. As they continued their trek up the road, John spoke in his usual monotone. "Logan?" "Yeah, John?" In a completely unaltered tone that telegraphed the solemnity of the statement, he replied, "Touch me again without my permission, I'll break off your arm and beat you with it."
Some time later, John and Harold were walking Bear through the park. As they sat on a nearby bench to watch Bear enjoy a much needed playdate, John brought out the red giftbox Logan had pressed on him at the basketball court. Recapping the eccentric entrepreneur's description, John passed the pricey timepiece to Finch for inspection. His partner examined it for a moment, then placed it beneath his heel and crushed it to costly shrapnel against the pavement. "Finch. That was a very expensive watch… not to mention a gift. If you're not gonna get me nice things you can't be jealous when someone else does." In a similar deadpan, Harold held up the GPS unit and replied, "Very well, Mr. Reese, but I do reserve the right to destroy any presents you receive with tracking devices. Is that amenable to you?" John turned his attention back to the Malinois romping on the grass. "Fair enough, Harold. Fair enough."
Author's Note: this was dashed off after this week's episode. If you liked it (and even if you didn't) leave me a review and let me know.