New Person of Interest fic, yay! This idea wouldn't leave my mind, so here we go.

I was hesitating with either having this fic updated as short chapters like this one, or it being a 9k fic like my previous one. But as I can't work on Under Cover as often as I'd like to, I thought that chapters would have to do.
So I'm throwing our boys into more trouble. 'Hope you forgive me.

If you see a mistake don't hesitate to tell me (I'm here to improve my English too...)

CBS owns Person of Interest.

Under Cover

John stretched his muscles, arms straight in front of him then behind his head, legs extended with his toes curled and his heels planted into the matress so his back was slightly raised from the bed. Then all tension was gone and he fell back on the bed with a contented sound.

The rays of the morning sun filtrated through the tall windows of his apartment, warming him as he laid lazily on his bed. With the kind of job John Reese had, moments like these were precious, valuable, and sadly never long enough.

His phone vibrated, the constant contact between the device and the bedside table echoing through the walls of the loft before Reese picked it up to answer the call.

"Good morning, Finch," John greeted the other man with a joyful voice.

"Good morning, Mr. Reese. I trust you slept well?"

"I can't hide anything from you, Finch." John rolled out of bed and grabbed a clean suit. "Is there a new number?"

"Yes." Trust Harold Finch not to waste a breath on elaborated answers that are unecessary.

"I'll be here in ten," John said before hanging up and walking to his bathroom to take a quick shower.

His morning cleaning finished, Reese bought a Sencha green tea for Finch and a coffee for himself, along with a box of pastries before joining Finch at the Library. As usual, Harold was already typing away at his computer, the multiple screens showing either lines of code or information about the new Number. On the board were two pictures: the first one was of a man in his thirties, short wavy brown hair, thick eyebrows over brown eyes, a short, round nose, a heavy bottom lip and a subtle around his mouth and chin. The second one represented a young woman in her late twenties; shoulder-length strawberry blond hair, brown eyes above a thin nose and lips stretched into a happy grin; she radiated joy. Reese glanced at the pictures as he walked over to the desk, placing the cup of tea and the box next to the keyboard Finch was typing on. Bear looked up from his bed hopeful to get a treat, which John gave him immediately.

Harold turned his upper body to acknowledge his partner's presence with a brief smile, then turned back to his work on the computer.

"Peter Smith, works as a cashier in a grocery store. His parents died in a car accident when he was six, he lived with foster parents for the next ten years, and dropped off school to work. He has a girlfriend, Mary Williams, who works as a florist, and they live together in a small apartment. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Victim then?" John asked.

"Well Mr. Reese, I thought you had learnt by now not to make hasty conclusions." Finch's voice held a tinge of amusement, and Reese couldn't help but smirk.

"Send me the address then, I'll investigate his house."

John left the Library and jumped into the first car he had access to, just when his phone rang again as it received the address sent by Finch. The journey to the house went without trouble, and John was able to enter the house and place a camera in the living room.

"Finch, are you here?" John asked as he tapped the earpiece he usually wore during his missions, to start the communication.

"Yes, Mr. Reese."

"The camera is installed, you should receive an image soon."

"Already have."

John smiled at the answer, unsurprised. He had gotten used to Finch's talent with computers, and not much surprised him anymore. Reese quickly got back to his car and drove to the shop where Peter worked. Once there, he entered the shop, looking throught the products as if he was a customer. At the same time, he typed on his phone, trying to pair it with Peter's. Once again the process went without a hitch, and Reese bought a small bottle of water since he was there.

Then he went to the flower shop where Mary worked and repeated his actions. When the phone was paired, John made it for the door, but Mary caught him before he had a chance to open the door.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Her voice was soft, kind, and John found himself doubting that she would have anything to do with a threat.

"Ah, I was just, er, looking around," Reese replied, inwardly slapping himself for not having been caught off-guard.

"And are you looking for something specific?" Mary smiled.

After long seconds of silence, John smiled back. "It's for a friend, as a thank you."

"Close friend?" the woman inquired as she led Reese to some part of the shop.

"You could say that," he replied with a grin, knowing full well that Finch was listening silently.

Mary delicately picked up an Agrimonia. "This one would do nicely, and," she picked up several Campanulas. "This. Thankfulness and gratitude."

"Sounds perfect to me," John smiled. He thanked her and paid for the small bouquet.

The couple's phones had been completely inactive as Reese drove all the way back to the Library. Finch would have been able to hack into their phones anyway, John thought. And indeed, as the former CIA operative walked into the Library holding the flowers, Finch turned around in his chair and fixed Reese with a stare

"Mr. Smith's phone contains pictures of his girlfriend and himself and the contacts are either from his work or simply his friends. And the same goes for Miss Williams."

"Nothing out of the ordinary here either?" John arched an eyebrow in question.

"Absolutely nothing."

"He must be involved in something, or the Machine wouldn't have given us his number."

"I am well aware of that, Mr. Reese," Finch replied with just the slightest annoyance- which was directed at the fact that they still didn't know what the threat was, or if Peter Smith would be the victim or the perpetrator. "Did you have to buy those flowers?"

John smiled a toothy grin as he deposited the bouquet on the desk. "Kill two birds with one stone."

Harold kept silent and John sighed as he sat down on the chair he'd usually bring close to the desk when he had nothing to do while Harold worked. "Well, I suppose there's nothing else to do but wait now."

Finch didn't reply but turned back to face the screens after a last glance at the flowers. He watched the video from the camera Reese had installed earlier; there still was nobody in the house, as both Peter and Mary were working.

There had been no activity for most of the day, apart from a few calls from Mary to her boyfriend in the afternoon. John spent the free time looking through the books in the Library and picking some to read in his chair next to Harold, while the older man worked on his computer.

Finally Reese became bored and restless. "This guy must have the most boring life." His statement earned him an exasperated sigh from his employer.

"If simply waiting doesn't suit you, John, you could always go for a run."

The former agent stared at Finch for a long while, deciding on his next move. He couldn't just stay here and do nothing. "It's just that we don't know what the threat is, that's what's bothering me. So I'll go for a walk and drive to his house. If anything happens at least I'll be there." And without waiting for an answer, Reese stood up, making Bear raise his head in curiosity. With a pat behind the dog's ears, John walked out of the Library.

Finch stared after his employee.

During the evening, Reese was waiting in his car, parked in a street perpendicular to the Number's house; a precise spot where he could observe the house with binoculars and his presence wouldn't be noticed easily. Peter had come home to his girlfriend preparing dinner, and gave her a hand. It was just as boring as it had first been, but Reese didn't complain. He simply waited; he had his earpiece on so he could still talk to Harold when things got too silent. Like now; Peter and Mary had finished their dinner and were watching TV, some soap about a detective.

"Hey, Finch?" John asked as he stretched his legs as most as he could from the front seat of the car.

"What is it, Mr. Reese?" Finch replied quickly, which made Reese think that maybe the older man had kept his earpiece on the whole time. Unsurprising as it was, Reese still felt a smile tug at his lips at the thought.

"Any new information about our guy?"

The sound of fingers hitting the keyboard was his only answer for a few long seconds. "Nothing," Harold finally said. "I've dug further into both their lives and friends', but nothing indicates that they could be in trouble."

"Calm night ahead then."

"I...," Finch started, but paused and Reese frowned. "...I wouldn't say so." Finch, who was able to see directly what was going on via the camera Reese had installed, had an advantage on him as the ex-CIA operative wasn't watching the house at the moment. But Harold's comment had tickled his curiosity, and John raised the binoculars to his eyes. What he saw then made him whisper a soft 'oh' of surprise.

The film apparently voted 'boring' by both parties, Peter and Mary had engaged in more intense activities. They were kissing on the sofa, and didn't seem to be about to stop. Reese placed the binoculars at their previous place, on the passenger seat of the car, and waited. Neither him nor Harold seemed to know what to say, and they stayed in awkward silence for minutes that stretched on and on.

Finally, Reese cleared his throat. "You should probably turn off the video feed from the camera."

"I already have."

"Okay."

It was rare when Reese could tell what Finch was thinking, but in a situation like this one, it was nearly impossible. John even wondered if his partner had taken the earpiece off, as he couldn't hear Finch's breath over the device. And suddenly he wondered if Harold could hear him breathe. Immedialtely being self-conscious, Reese took a deep breath, and if Finch heard, he didn't say anything. He wasn't the kind to be distracted during a job, even by this, but with Harold listening to him at the same time, well, that changed everything.

After what seemed like hours of embarassing silence, Peter's phone rang, alerting both Reese and Finch.

"Finch?"

"Yes," Harold quickly answered the unspoken question and typed on his computer to record the upcoming conversation.

Apparently the couple's activities had come to an end ealier, and Mary was sleeping as Peter answered his phone.

"Hello?" he asked, his voice uncertain.

"We need you, Peter," replied a male voice, though Reese couldn't place it. It wasn't anyone who had been with Peter during the day.

"No, I quit years ago, you'll have to do without me." Peter seemed to have recognised the voice anyway, and his tone slightly rose in anger. With his binoculars, Reese saw the man get up and walk into another room so as to not wake up Mary.

"Too bad, I thought you needed money to propose to your beloved... Mary, isn't it?" the voice went on, unfazed. "It's our last job, six million dollars. Then you're free."

There was a long silence while Peter seemed to consider the offer on the job -whatever it was. "What do you need?" he eventually asked. His voice was cold and he seemed angry at himself for agreeing.

"You, your skills, and you gotta find us a hacker. A professional." The call ended.

Back in the car, Reese saw the communication end on his phone. He knew Finch had listened, and he also knew the lines of the next conversation. He wished he had been wrong when Harold spoke.

"We seem to have found a way to get closer to Mr. Smith, and hopefully keep him alive during this 'job' of his."

"No, Harold."

"Excuse me?"

"I know exactly what you're thinking, but I'm not letting you go along with a gang of thieves that we know nothing about. They're targeting six million dollars, Finch, it's going to be dangerous."

Surprised, Finch was speechless for a moment. "And what do you propose we do, then?"

Reese couldn't infiltrate the group, as apparently they weren't looking for his profile, but he could still try. He'd have to be very discreet however, because raising suspicion would only put Finch in more danger than he'd initially be. And if the former agent couldn't get into the gang, then Harold would have to go under cover, leaving John behind the computer. The sole image of this role reversal made Reese shudder in uneasiness.

One thing was certain however, they'd have to act, and quickly.