AN: WARNING: READERS BEWARE CRACKFIC ALERT! This story is utter ridiculousness. I mean it really has no point to having been written aside from the fact that I gave myself a chuckle or two writing it, so please bare that in mind as you read this. But the Careese is oh so real ;D
Story wise this is set during early season 4 so this an AU crackfic since our bae Joss Carter is alive and kicking ass. Also I'm posting two chapters a day since there is four in total. I split it up so you can take a break for the weirdness.
Elaine, as always you are phenomenal and a truly wonderful friend. You read these bizarre stories even though that's not your cup of tea. I appreciate it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and after you guys read this you will surely agree that's for the best.
Things were tense ever since Samaritan came online and they had to go into hiding. But since they've come together and began working the numbers once more underneath the evil A.I.'s radar it had only gotten worse.
Finch pinched the bridge of his nose hoping to relieve the pressure building before it formed a full blown headache. Things were a strained mess between his friends. Mr. Reese, Ms. Shaw, Detective Fusco, and Captain Carter meant the world to him but if they didn't do something about the growing tension amongst them Harold was petrified that he would lose them all. He couldn't lose another friend as he had lost Nathan. Nathan was murdered because of him and his invention of the machine. He wasn't going to let his new friends suffer the same fate.
But how could he help them? He had talked to them individually trying to find out what was bothering them, and while he learned what was behind the frustration he had no idea how to fix it.
They were in a new world order; John had to pretend to be a detective and was having a hard time reining in his rule-breaking tendencies and taking orders from Jocelyn. Mr. Reese was used to giving orders rather than receiving, so he was trying to adjust and was struggling. Jocelyn was caught between I.A. wanting her to wrangle him in and trying to be his friend as much as trying to get used to her new promotion as Captain of the 8th precinct, which came with its own unique stresses. She had to run an entire precinct full of cops and detectives while help keep them from falling into Samaritan and Decima's clutches.
Detective Fusco was trying to figure out how to be John's partner without wanting to kill him. And for Ms. Shaw, well she hated her job selling makeup and perfume, and was grossly jealous of John's line of employment. The added pressure of having to hide from Samaritan or they were dead wasn't helping either; so the tension between his friends were mounting to a fever pitch with no end in sight.
Finch had sat alone in his office at the college this afternoon, thinking about how he could fix what was ailing his friends. As Ms. Groves carefully pointed out a few weeks ago, he was the one who had gotten John and Ms. Shaw into this mess and by extension Jocelyn and Detective Fusco. Mr. Reese brought them in as assets to help with a cause that Finch dragged John into. So it was only right that he should be the one that got them out of this. But how was he to get four people that were unwilling to share what was the matter, to speak? He tried talking to them separately and they weren't listening, so perhaps, drastic times meant for drastic actions; he'd have to force his friends to gain an understanding for each other and work things out together. But to do that required meeting up with an old friend.
And that thought brought him to where he was currently; limping, with Bear on his leash, purple fedora on, and in an old cheap suit he was subjected to wear now. Harold Whistler, college professor, didn't have the money for the designer suits Harold Finch once wore.
He headed to the alleyway that he requested to meet his old friend at which was in a dead zone on the shadow map. Sure enough his friend stood there and a real smile filled Harold's face since the ordeal of Samaritan coming online happened.
"Angel," Harold greeted warmly.
The man turned and looked exactly the same as always, just older. Angel had the same olive complexion, but his thick dark hair had long gone white, and Finch noted that the man still had his long beard, but that was white too. He resembled a slimmer Santa Claus and was just as jolly and happy.
Angel smiled, wrinkling his face even more. "Harold," he said as he walked towards him, and they hugged fondly, before stepping back. "I'm glad to see you again, my friend. We haven't talked in a very long time, how have you been?"
Harold forced a smile. He couldn't tell Angel that he had to go into hiding because of a bad A.I. was threatening to try to take control of the world and rewrite it to its wishes. "I've been good," he acknowledged simply. "How have you been Angel? I'm sorry I lost contact with you recently."
Angel waved him off. "Thanks to you my life has been blessed, Harold, I can never express my gratitude for how much you have helped me."
"No, it was you that helped me so much, Angel. I could only return the favor to help you years later, and it was merely monetary. Your help was so much more profound and meaningful than anything money could buy," Harold said gently disagreeing with his dear friend.
Finch met Angel years ago just when he was a young teen and Angel had been just a homeless man on the streets, and offered assistance to Harold. But since then, before Samaritan came online and before the machine even came online, Harold had gone back and found the homeless Angel and provided for him, helped him get on his feet, and find him a real job for which he worked for until he retired nearly a decade ago. But only Finch and others who Angel had helped, and the man himself, knew of Angel's real mystical work.
"I say what you did for me, Harold, was meaningful as well," Angel assured him, deciding a compromise was in order. Harold would never understand what he had done for him meant the world to him.
Harold watched as Angel easily petted Bear, before looking back up in his eyes. "I am hoping you can help my friends in a similar way that you helped me," Harold said slowly.
Angel nodded his head. "Yes, you explained on the phone, and don't you worry, Harold, I can help them," he reassured with an affectionate pat to his forearm to soothe his worry.
Harold eyed him questioningly. "Have you ever done this on four individuals at once before?" he asked.
Angel shook his head. "No, I have helped only one at time; but four people is possible although it will need to be in a controlled setting," to Angel explained. He did not like performing this on four individuals at once; he preferred one individual and removing the memory from the other person's consciousness. But from the sound of Harold's voice it sounded dire. And for his very dear friend, Harold, he would make this one and only exception.
Harold nodded. "I can manage that," he replied. Thanks to Root and the machine having him pose as Egret they had money once again. Not nearly as much as he had as Harold Finch but enough that surely should help fund their endeavors in saving lives until they could somehow someway manage to shut down Samaritan.
He would rent a place out at a remote location and for the lack of a better term 'lure' his friends there to get them away from onlookers and allow Angel to do his mystical work. "Thank you my dear friend," Finch said sincerely with a smile.
"Don't thank me yet, thank me when your friends have new understandings for each other," Angel murmured.
John entered the underground subway irritable and in a foul mood. "I'm here, what's the big emergency, Root?" he demanded gruffly. He was skipping out on his lunch break to meet up with her. It was tough working numbers while working as a detective with Carter breathing down his neck all day. It left him very little time to eat and sleep which he was feeling right now. He was starving after skipping breakfast to work a number before heading to the precinct to put in a full day of work there, and now he had to skip lunch too. If he came back to work late again from lunch he had to buy Fusco and Carter lunch, per Carter's stipulation to try to get him back from lunch-break on time. Normally that wouldn't bother him but as Detective Riley he didn't make nearly as much as he had as John Reese.
"My, my, someone is in a testy mood," Root tsked with a smile lining her face; she was sitting at Harold's computers before eyeing him thoughtfully. "John, have you ever thought of sleeping one of these days because you truly are beginning to look like Lurch," she said in her way of showing concern.
He glared at her. "I don't have time for this. What do you want because if it's nothing important I am going to get a bite to eat and get back to work before my lunch break is over for once so Carter won't reprimand me…again."
And he would prefer to avoid being reprimanded by Carter like the plague. He had been reprimanded several times by her already and no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he couldn't deny the fact that he found her hot as hell. John knew it had more to do with her than her position of power over him; he had female bosses before and none of them ever made him want to rip their clothes off as they dressed him down. Kissing her in the morgue hadn't been one of his brightest ideas because now all he could think about was her warm lips and soft skin that he craved. Not acknowledging his feelings for her had been simpler before kissing her because he didn't have to go to war with himself to keep from wanting to kiss her again. Ever since Samaritan came online it made staying away from her easier because being near him could serve as a death sentence. And he wore that like impenetrable armor when she was around. He told himself it was for her protection and not his own and for the most part he believed his lie.
Root's smile never slid free of her face. "John, SHE knows you enjoy it," she said with a wink and her grin widened at the scowl she received. Root so enjoyed teasing the big lug and SHE knew that Carter and Reese were perfect for each other and very upset that they were still not together yet. "But the big emergency regards Harry," she said bringing up the reason she summoned Sameen and John here.
John stiffened. "Is he alright?" he demanded, his hunger forgotten. John scrunched his face up as a strong repugnant odor filled the air and knew exactly who entered the underground subway. His eyes began to water.
"This better be good!" Shaw growled angrily as she stomped up beside Reese and glared menacingly at Root. "I'm on my lunch break that is being ruined by having to look at you."
"Shaw, are you spraying the tester bottles on anyone aside from yourself?" John asked, trying to breathe through his mouth. She smelled like she bathed in the perfume trying to cover up bad B.O. or something.
Shaw shifted her murderous gaze off Root and onto Reese. "I could show you." she offered bitingly. John smirked knowing she wouldn't just spray him. "I didn't get a cushy job like you, Reese, where you get to play cops and robbers. No, I get a department store job where they stuffed me into the perfume department because apparently I'm not friendly enough to be at the makeup counter anymore; something about complaints that I scare people." Shaw sneered.
"Try smiling," John suggested.
Shaw snorted as she said; "I did."
That didn't surprise him. Shaw's smile probably looked maniacal.
"Well sweetie, you smell perfect to me," Root greeted warmly. John rolled his eyes. And Shaw had the nerve to question him about Carter and their relationship!
"Root, get back to talking about Harold, what's wrong?" he commanded, not wanting to listen to her flirt with Shaw who would only get flustered and annoyed. Did Harold have a new number he needed help with?
"He's missing," Root said simply.
"What do you mean 'he's missing?'" Shaw snapped, forgetting her anger over her lunch break. "When did he go missing?"
"SHE saw him get kidnapped by a man," Root added.
John motioned with his arm when no more information came. "And?—that's it? Our friend doesn't know where he was taken, who it was, or why? Was it Greer?" John rifled off.
Shaw spoke up. "If it's Greer; I'm going to shoot that wax mannequin repeatedly." she threatened.
"I'm going to look into leads but I thought you two should know," Root explained.
"I'll help," John promised. "I'll head back to the precinct and pick up Fusco to head to the college that Harold has been working at and see if there are any clues there," he said immediately as Root nodded and watched him leave.
"It's just you and me, Sameen, whatever shall we do together?" Root said with a wide smile, turning her attention to her favorite brunette.
"It's just you. Ask our friend for any additional info; I'm skipping work and heading to where he was taken. Text me the address of his last known whereabouts," Shaw stated before whirling around and hurrying out.
Root smiled as she connected with Harold. "They are out searching for you. Are you sure this is going to work with their rising tension? I mean Sameen looked ready to kill Lurch, more so than usual. And the big lug is in denial over his feelings for his pretty detective; it's so obvious he's in love with her. SHE is very unhappy that they aren't together yet Harold."
He sighed, "Ms. Groves, there is no way to push Mr. Reese to tell Jocelyn how he feels. He will when he's ready," Finch murmured.
"That's not good enough for HER."
"I'm sure John can handle his love life without his friends or the machine intruding on it," Finch defended John. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that John would not appreciate anyone meddling in his relationship with Jocelyn, no matter how benevolent the gesture was intended to be.
Root chuckled, "Well in any case Harry, we need to stick together if we are going to take down Samaritan and Decima." she said getting back to the point.
"I agree, and this should work. Just in time; give them my location but we need to have acquired Captain Carter and Detective Fusco in the search for me as well since they are dealing with their fair share of strife as well."
Root leaned back putting her feet up on the table. "Of course, we need all the help we can get since we are outnumbered."
"I'll be in touch, Ms. Groves." Harold assured before he hung up.
AN: After this chapter it seems like a pretty normal story but you won't feel like that for long :/ Onto the next...