Little something I thought of. Person of Interest does not belong to me.
~POI~
Music. There was always a funny thing about it. There was never a beat that was made for you. Instead, you have to dance to it. Many different beats for many different people, for many different cultures. Slow, fast, exotic, so on and so forth.
But for this type of music, one had to learn quickly. There was no way around it. No lessons. No mistakes. Nada, if it played you had to dance, no matter the beat to it.
At least that was Fusco thought it was. Ever since he had met Reese he had to dance. Whatever, whenever, wherever.
Mr. Glasses was the composer, Reese was the musician, and he was the dancer. Whatever Mr. Glasses composed, and beat Reese played, he moved along with it.
Every once in a while, just as he is getting used to it, there was always another new one to throw him off. Now, he seemed to find Reese's hidden beat. After working sometime with the taller man, he found it. Now he can dance to it. Whatever the beat, whatever the rhythm, whatever the music, he can do it.
Before it would bother him, how the hell he came to this God only knows. But now, seeing how good it was not to have his hands dirty, this is one music he would not mind dancing to. That is, until Reese decides to change the damn beat, and Mr. Glasses the music.
Now knowing the hidden beat, he can dance all that he can. Whatever music Reese played, he can do it.
He pondered on while eating his lunch. Comfortably, until he felt as he was being watched. Fusco sighed, that only meant one thing.
"Hello, Lionel"
Let the music being.
~POI~
A little fic I thought of while watering my grandmother's plants. R&R please.