It wasn't really hard to find Snow again. The man had made no discernible effort to hide. Actually, he was very much out in the open now after the not-so-incidental meeting outside the downtown office building.

Like an invitation.

To resume their game.

And Reese had watched him for three consecutive days, alternating his surveillance with Shaw. He knew where he stayed - small apartment, rented fully furnished; no other place this time – and he knew he had no job to speak of. Snow usually spent the day walking around the city, sitting and watching people, having a sandwich and coffee, and then more walking.

He didn't meet them face to face, nor did he really look at his watchers. Snow was aware of them, but the confrontation of before had been an exception, it seemed.

Shaw knew everything there was on the man and still she looked undecided as to what to make of the lone alpha patrolling New York City. And yes, it was patrolling. Always the same route. A few alternate ways for kicks. Always the same time.

He was starting a routine.

It intrigued her to no end.

Reese didn't comment.

"You ran with his pack," she told Reese as they stood at the Hudson, watching the water, the skyline of New York a nice background panorama. "He was your team leader. Doesn't mean you know werewolf pack mentality."

He didn't react, just shot her a brief look.

She grimaced.

"Wolves are complicated pack animals, Reese. You're a born loner who needs a handler to be effective. Wolves don't. They need a strong alpha. It makes them such an effective team, but they fail at being functional on their own for too long. The CIA took a huge risk including werewolf teams in their operations and maybe it worked for you, but you see what happened. Do you really believe Snow would willingly, voluntarily, kill off his beta?"

"Probably."

"Wrong. The beta is the most trusted. He is the stand-in for the alpha. For him to agree that Stanton had to be taken care of, something must have happened. Alphas are very strong, but they rely on the pack, the team, to keep that strength. He told you, someone who isn't even a werewolf, to kill his beta."

"He was told we were compromised."

"Yes. By whom?"

His eyes were cold, distant. "Alicia Corwin."

"Who is conveniently dead. Who did she work for?"

Reese stared out over the water. "Someone we still have to find out about."

Shaw nodded slowly. "You were manipulated. As was Stanton. As was Snow. Everyone involved. Me, my team, my handler, my partner. It's a big game and we're pawns."

Disdain was clearly audible in her voice. Shaw had believed in what she had done until the day her partner had been killed because of what he had discovered. Her survival was thanks to Finch and Reese. As was he continued active involvement.

"You were supposed to be dead. Like Stanton. You were suddenly back, like Stanton. All Snow did was follow orders again. I think he finally cut those ties, Reese."

"So you think we should trust him?" he challenged.

Shaw laughed humorlessly. "No."

Reese cocked an eyebrow.

"I'll keep tailing him," she simply said. "I know wolves inside out. He might have seen me, but he won't see me again. He's alone, Reese. It will either kill him or drive him into doing something very rash that probably ends with his death, too. Alphas can't exist on their own."

"Are you suggesting we adopt strays?" he teased.

Shaw grimaced, then turned to look at the skyline again. "Who knows? He might turn out to be an asset after all."

Reese doubted it.

Shaw's smile turned darker. "At least he would be an expendable one that doesn't care about whether he dies or not."

Reese's lips reflected a dark smile. It was simply the truth. Having Snow around might just make his day one day after all, Shaw mused.

And right now it gave her an interesting puzzle to solve.

And a game to play on her own.

Sam Shaw knew that a lone alpha was not to be underestimated. Snow was walking a fine line between desperation and determination. No pack, living on the edge, on the fringe of it all. But he wanted to live, which showed in his progressively more consistent lifestyle.

She would keep a very close eye on him.

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Finch was busy coding whatever it was he was coding and Reese watched him silently for a while. He knew his partner was a genius programmer, hacker, software engineer and so much more. He knew the man had bought and sold companies within the blink of an eye, had ruined people with a mouse click, and he had more money than Reese was able to grasp.

And still, just standing in the old, abandoned library, watching Finch work, showed Reese more than any snooping into the files had ever done.

"Are you going to stand there all day, Mr. Reese, or has this visit a productive reason?"

He smiled. Finch turned a little, eyes bright behind the glasses. John pushed away from the wall and sauntered over, fingers briefly brushing over Finch's neck.

It was something he had started doing more often, more openly, now that they had finally grown more comfortable with what they were. His thumb caressed the short hair at the neck, then he dropped his hand.

"New number?" he asked casually.

"I would have called you if something had come up. You seem restless."

"It has been very quiet recently."

"I can't control the numbers, nor The Machine."

Reese itched to touch his partner again, to feel the warm skin, and he bit back that notion. Control was of utmost importance, even within the privacy of this room, which wasn't that private at all. Shaw came and went as she pleased, and she was as good as Reese.

"I did, however, place new surveillance on Mr. Snow."

Reese raised his eyebrows. Finch looked rather smug.

"It's just a little program I was experimenting with. It's not yet perfect, but it allows me to follow a target with reasonable accuracy."

"Wherever he goes?"

"Right now it's limited to New York."

"The city?"

"The state, Mr. Reese."

Reese smirked a little. Little program? Finch was starting to get creative again and his mind was razor sharp and devious.

"It can only track one person and it takes up a lot of computing power," the cipher went on. "A downside to it all. I'm working on making it more streamlined and effective."

"Everyone needs a hobby, Harold."

"We can't all lurk in shadows and shoot kneecaps, Mr. Reese."

"No, we can't," he said, voice low and teasing. "Some of us live out their voyeuristic tendencies in a different way."

Finch twisted around a little more, an affronted expression crossing his features. Reese chuckled softly, squeezing one shoulder.

"So, any interesting movements?"

"No. I'm keeping very close eyes on everything concerning Snow, credit cards, debit, movement through the city. It looks rather random, sometimes eccentric."

"He was a good agent."

"Out of your mouth, high praise."

He had to grudgingly agree. He had respected the man who had been his team leader. Snow was till good and he wouldn't be easily followed. He also knew that electronic trails could be followed, though he had no idea about The Machine.

"I also took the liberty of looking into his CIA files again. It seems he was classified as 'defunct'. That seems to be the intelligence term for an agent that wouldn't be activated even under the most dire of circumstances."

"He was sorted out of the system," the hellhound agreed. "The CIA wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole, nor would anyone else."

"Not even Black Ops?"

"Especially not Black Ops or Intelligence."

"His files have been blackened," Finch added. "And there isn't even a search result for his name when I run it through the CIA mainframe."

"Hacking the CIA? Finch, I'm shocked."

"Not so much," the cipher added smoothly. "And they shouldn't use such outdated software when something better is on the market."

"Yours?"

The blue eyes lit up with a smirk and Reese grinned.

"Not that it would really stop me from getting in, seeing that I know how my own backdoors work, but it would stop more unsavory characters."

Reese found himself caressing Finch's neck again. "As opposed to the savory characters we are."

"Exactly. But as I was saying, Mr. Snow has been removed. As has been everything and everyone on his former team. All of them, including you. Not my doing, by the way. Someone scrubbed them out of the intelligence service and dumped him."

"Too bad," Reese rumbled, not feeling sorry at all.

Finch turned completely, dislodging the fingers on his neck. "I know you don't approve of Mr. Snow and I can hardly fault you for that. He has caused a lot of pain and I'm personally not in favor of getting any closer than we absolutely have to. All I'm say is that I doubt this is a complicated ploy to find you, Mr. Reese. I believe it is a desperate attempt to have a purpose."

Reese stared at the screen that showed him his former team leader's face.

"We need to be careful in handling new numbers, just in case," Finch added as he rose, drawing John's attention to himself.

There was a faint ring of silver around the blue eyes of the hellhound.

"I will let Detectives Carter and Fusco know about our… guest. I highly doubt Snow would come close to either, but they might run into him nonetheless."

"If he crosses my path, I won't hold back, Finch," Reese said, voice gritty.

"I would never ask you to anyway, John."

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Shaw had made it her new hobby to keep a close eye on the alpha werewolf, except when Finch had a new number for her to handle. The Machine was giving them mostly one or two, sometimes more, which meant Carter and Fusco had their share of work. Finch handled them all in his usual manner. Calm, collected, slightly worried, sometimes with a little snark Shaw enjoyed, and a quiet intelligence she found very much appealing. She had gone through several handlers already and while Finch had never been trained by any kind of intelligence operation or agency, he was very, very good.

She trusted his intel, she trusted his information, and she had started to trust him.

That had come as a shock.

And now she had indirectly, without actually telling him, volunteered to follow Snow around.

It was… entertaining. Far from boring, actually. And it kept her sharp, on her toes, ready to disappear quite literally if she had to.

The man couldn't hide the wolf in him and she doubted her wanted. Not anymore. The CIA had trained him to be human on the outside, to keep the edge hidden, to only let go if the situation required it.

Shaw knew werewolves and she pitied those who had let themselves be recruited to work in agency packs. It crippled them, made them unfit for anything else, and she had yet to hear of one who had reached retirement age.

Werewolves were pack animals; they didn't retire. The pack was family and stability.

So for Snow to still function as he did, not going feral or selling his considerable talents on the open market, there had to be some honor left. Alphas were about the only ones who could run without family support for a while, but even they would reach their limits. They didn't lose alpha status and they wouldn't simply usurp another pack, but that was what made it so difficult for them to survive without a handler. A beta didn't have that problem. Neither did non-military trained wolves. There were loners out there, with weak family ties that were enough stability for them not to flip or fall into a depression.

Snow wasn't like them.

He needed something to focus on or he would simply break.

Shaw didn't really want to be around when that limit caught up with Snow, though she knew she would be.

It was one reason she was watching; to hopefully stave off a meltdown.

For now, the former intelligence operative followed him and she was amused by the fact that Snow knew and tried to catch her unawares, sneaking up on her in turn, only to find her gone.

Hide and seek.

Now and then she went to higher ground as he caught up to her last known position, nostrils flaring as if to catch her scent. If he was frustrated, Snow didn't show. If Shaw was elated by the thrill, she never so much as twitched a smile.

It was becoming an entertaining way to pass the time.

tbc...