AN: This was written in response to a prompt from SassyJ. She knew I was having issues with motivation so she threw a bone my way. Her prompt was . . . John and Zoe have been dating for a year. He decides to take a chance on love. He proposes three different times. She rejects two of his proposals, but third time's the charm. And yes, normally four year olds don't run searches on computers, but let's just say, they have been exposed to Harold and have learned a thing or two.

AN2: Not part of the Risk Series. . .


Chapter 1: Once Bitten:

Present:

"Gracie, we aren't supposed to be messing with Uncle Harold's computers," the little girl whispered; her eyes worried as she tugged on her twin sister's arm.

"Shhhh, Joss, it's not like they said we couldn't be up here, they just said be careful," Gracie retorted in a whisper, her eyes taking in the bank of monitors in front at their Uncle Harold desk. "Besides, it's not like we're running lose in the Library. Uncle Harold is right here, somewhere . . ."

"We are so going to get in trouble; we're supposed to stay with Bear," four year old Joss stated, holding Gracie back, their matching blue eyes locking. Their mommy and daddy were both busy so they had to stay with Uncle Harold in the library.

"You are such a nervous Nelly," her twin sister laughed, brushing a strand of her dark hair away from her eyes with a smirk similar to their Daddy's. She sat down at Uncle Harold's desk and started to fiercely tap away at the keyboard.

"It's just like watching Uncle Harold watching Daddy work," Joss said sulkily, but her eyes shone with curiosity as her sister continued to punch at the keyboard.

"Daddy was in the Army?" Gracie asked, her eyes going wide at the overabundance of information suddenly within their fingertips.

"Hey, and the CIA too," Joss added, pulling up a chair and staring at the information Gracie brought up onto the monitors.

They were both looking at the picture frame on their Uncle's desk. It was Auntie Joss she got married. "She's beautiful."

"Did you ever wonder why mommy and daddy don't have a picture like that?"

They heard a door slam. "Oh no! Quick, blank out the screen, blank out the screen," Joss said, hurrying to make it appear as though they weren't doing what they were doing.

"Calm down, I can't think," Gracie shrieked, fiercely tapping at the keyboard.

With a quirk of his lip, Harold Finch asked. "What are you girls up to?"

"Nothing Uncle Harold."


Five Years Ago:

No matter how hard he tried, he never seemed to get it right. Still, after a year, he should have known better than to show up at her apartment out of the blue, but he just couldn't help himself. After everything he had gone through the past several weeks, it was clear that he wasn't invincible, that he wouldn't be able to cheat death again and again. He was finding it difficult, no impossible, to return to the existing situation. His focus wasn't what it used to be. The possibility of having a normal life with her before it was too late was on his mind constantly.

That was why he showed up at her apartment: to ask her. He came to tell her that, despite everything that had been going on, he was so very thankful that it was she who was there for him. He came to tell her that he was appreciative that it was her voice on the other end of the phone in the middle of those long and difficult nights. He came to tell her that, despite the unpleasant circumstances at times, it felt right to be working together on occasion, to protect each other always. Nothing had felt so right for him in a very long time. And, finally, he came to tell her that, whenever he closed his eyes, he saw her and the life they could have together, a life he hadn't permitted himself to yearn for. Until now…

"Zoe Morgan, will you be my wife," he asked earnestly.

Apparently, that wasn't what she was expecting to hear from him. "You're asking me to marry you because you're not getting any younger? You're asking me to marry you because you're afraid of dying alone? Thanks so much John that makes me feel like a prize." That's when the vase came careening toward him. He was glad for his quick reaction. From that point on, their encounter went pretty much as one might expect and came to a rather quick end after she rattled off a succession of curses that slandered both his lineage and himself. She snarled venomously, stomped to her room, and slammed the door behind her.

So why was he still there, perched on the couch like a moron? Because, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to leave. He just couldn't do it anymore; he could no longer walk away from her without knowing if she would be there in the morning or the next or the next. So, he made himself comfortable, lying on her couch, all night if he needed to. He knew that she knew he was still here; she could feel him close-by, just like he could feel her. So he let her fume, it suited him just fine. If her couch was as close as he was getting that night, then he'd rather be there than anywhere else on earth.

He was jolted awake by a sound. He sat up cautiously, half expecting another item to be thrown his way. Instead she just stood in the doorway in her pajamas, her arms crossed at her chest, her brow furrowed in frustration. He sighed, hoping to portray a calmness that wasn't there.

"You're not leaving, are you?" she asked exasperatedly.

"Nope," he replied with a shrug.

"Then I guess you'd better come into the bedroom. Your reasoning leaves a lot to be desired John; think about it more the next time you ask me."