The South Street Seaport Chorus Tree, Chapter Two

A Person of Interest fan fiction

A/N: For the purpose of this story, "Present Day" is December of Season Four.

Two Years Ago

"I thought I might find you here," Carter said, sitting down in the chair opposite the reclusive billionaire she'd come to speak to.

"Do you play, Detective?" Harold asked, absently petting Bear, whose head had risen at the arrival of their companion.

Carter looked at the chessboard placed between them on the table. It would be a good day to sit in the park and play chess; though it was the middle of December, it wasn't too cold, and there was no risk of wind knocking over the pieces. "I play very badly. I'd rather not sit here and be defeated."

Finch's gentle smile graced his features as he said, "Fair enough. So, what is it you require? I would posit you didn't leave work for no reason, and I now know that the reason was not to play chess."

Carter gave a small smile. She liked talking to this man. Sure, he was a little odd, but he was whip-smart and very little got past him. These were qualities she admired, and they made him a delightful conversation partner if she was in the right mood. She also saw how much he cared about people. Obviously he believed in what they did and in helping humanity as a whole, but he also showed affection for John in his own unique way and he extended great kindness to those people they found who were victims. Indeed, Harold Finch (thought she wasn't sure that was his real name) was a man she held in high regard.

What the detective might not have guessed was that Finch felt the same way about her. He found this woman to be fiercely intelligent, but she did not let this intellect make her superior. She was kind to everyone and marvelous at determining the best way to speak with people. He admired her strength; he always thought it could not have been easy to be a woman in the Army nor to be a female homicide detective. But she had a softness about her too, evident much of the time when she was with John and at any moment that she was speaking about her son. Harold found the detective incredible, and he was very glad to have her on their side.

"Two nights from now, I'm going to be out of commission. Don't call me for anything. If you need police material, you'd better get Fusco, because I am busy," Carter said, looking him straight in the eye.

A bit of a smirk snuck its way onto Harold's face at the detective's stern tone. "Noted, Detective. I will not attempt to reach you. May I ask why?"

"Frankly, I'm surprised you don't already know. Usually you're all over my business," Carter replied, an eyebrow raised.

Finch didn't have a response to that, knowing that he couldn't give her any more information than he already had regarding his ability to know what was going on in her life, or in the lives of a variety of people. He simply waited quietly, continuing to pet Bear. If she wanted to tell him, she would.

"Taylor and I are going to the Christmas tree at the South Street Seaport. It's a tradition we have," Carter said. Though she'd had a teasing tone before, she couldn't help but smile genuinely when she thought about this Christmas tradition with her son.

"The South Street Seaport. That's the Chorus Tree, isn't it? Is there a group performing on Thursday nights?" Harold asked.

Detective Carter chuckled. "No, there isn't. That's why we always go on Thursday. Less crowded. You actually feel like it's okay to stand there for a while, not like you have to immediately get out of the way because other people want to see the tree. It's nice, and it allows us to do a little gift exchange."

"Well, I would never wish to infringe on a Christmas tradition you have with your son. You will be considered off limits Thursday evening," Finch said with all sincerity. He knew being a mother gave the detective a feeling of normalcy, and what could be more normal than a family Christmas celebration?

"Thank you, Finch. It means a lot." Carter hesitated a moment, then briefly laid her hand on top of the one Finch had resting on the table. After a few seconds, she broke the contact and stood up. "Well, back to work."

"Merry Christmas, Joss," Harold said.

"Merry Christmas to you, Harold," the detective said, smiling widely. And with that, she turned and walked away.

Finch checked his watch and realized it was later than he thought. He stood, said, "Bear komen," and began his walk back to the library, his faithful dog by his side.