Person of Interest: Mr. & Mr. Rinch: Part 1 (John Reese): Chapter 4
Now that lunch was over, a new game was started. Chris had named this one The Partner Quiz and John wondered if Lucy had just been getting a head start with all of her questions earlier.
"Between the two of you, who would be the one most likely to steal the covers?" Chris asked.
"Francine," Aaron was quick to state.
Francine elbowed Aaron in the ribs, but she was smiling as she did so.
Off to the side, Don made a check mark by the couple's name on a clipboard, keeping score. Behind him, the view of the abandoned farm spread out for miles and John couldn't help staring at it as he listened to the inane chatter around him and enjoyed the feel of grass under his hands. He missed having the time to relax and recoup from some of their numbers. He pushed an image of Leon Tao out of his head and determined that he would get Harold out of the library more often.
While most of the couples were sitting near each other on the grass, some of them were being careful not to touch each other. Others were holding hands and the Borich ladies were giving each other back massages while they participated in the game.
Beside him, Harold leaned against a rock, trying to pretend his back wasn't in some kind of pain from the day's activities. The urge to reach over and give him a bit of a back rub was stronger than he would have thought a few days ago. The realization having taken him by surprise made it that much more difficult to resist.
As the game continued, each couple chimed in with their answers, some bickering as they attempted to answer in a timely manner.
"Remember," Don said. "If you can't agree, your answer doesn't count and you lose the point."
"I thought Chris said this was supposed to be a fun game," John spoke to Harold under his breath.
He was relieved he wasn't married in real life to have to go through all this for real. But what did it matter? He was technically married for the weekend and still going through this, whether he wanted to or not.
"You would steal the covers off me, wouldn't you?" Harold whispered back.
"No, Harold, I'm pretty sure you'd be the one stealing the covers."
"Harold? John? Your answer?"
"John," Harold was quick to accuse.
Chris looked to John for confirmation and, thinking about all that they had been through before, and knowing he was in a support roll for Finch, John nodded agreement. "Yeah, it's me."
She smiled at him before moving on to the next question. "Where is your partner's favorite place in the world?"
"At work," Mike said.
"At the gym." Barbara refused to look at Mike.
"In bed." Damon raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manor and then winked at his wife.
Stella Parris giggled.
"In the library, with all the books," John said.
"He's a lot more athletic and outdoorsy than me so, at the lake house in New Hampshire with our dog, Bear."
"Those two places sound far apart from each other," Chris commented.
"To be fair, there is a large book collection at the lake house, so I like being there too."
The cute smile on Harold's face had John wishing they didn't have to argue so much, even as he began to complain again, "He reads long into the night, won't ever come to bed."
"I do not!"
"Boys! Don't lose this point for your team. Drew? Selina? Who sings in the shower?"
"We both do," they said in unison.
"Ugh," Barbara started. "He does," emphasis on her husband's pronoun strong.
"Why is that such a bad thing?" Mike asked.
"You're terrible! You caterwaul like a drowning cat."
"Hey, now," Don spoke up. "Let's not say negative things toward each other right now. This is meant to be a fun game. Besides, everyone's singing's bad in the shower. Unless you're Beyonce."
John snorted. "I think I'm pretty good in the shower," he commented under his breath.
Harold elbowed him in the ribs. "No you're not."
"How would you know?"
"That first time you got shot?" He whispered. "We spent a lot of time together, remember? I heard you in the shower. More than once."
"I was shot. Of course I wasn't at my best."
"Here's a related question, what genre of music does your spouse prefer?"
"Lucy likes classical music," Shawn said. "She listens to it while she works. It's so irritating. I hear it for hours afterward."
Chris sighed. "And Shawn? What does he like?"
"Nothing. He hates music." Lucy gave her husband a nasty look that John read as 'you must be pond scum to not like music'.
"How can anyone hate music?" John whispered.
"John? What about Harold? What does he listen to the most?"
"Opera." John shivered. "Now THAT sounds like a drowning cat."
"I promised you could choose the music on the way home!"
"That doesn't change the fact that opera sounds like a drowning cat, Harold. It gives me a headache."
"John," Chris said, stepping in, "It sounds like you did reach some sort of agreement about music in the car, so maybe you can try not to be so negative toward Harold over his choice in music?"
"Maybe."
"Harold? What music does John like?"
"Classic rock," Harold said with a sulk.
"What did you do on your first date?"
"We went to see an author talk in the student union building at college," Genevieve said.
"Oh yes, it was a fascinating talk about over farming and what different countries are doing about it," Alexis said with a sparkle to her eyes. "I remember, because this beautiful girl sat next to me, then asked me out for coffee afterward, and I'd never been on a proper date before so I was a total ditz."
"No you weren't!"
"It was pouring rain something crazy," Harold said. "We were bored, so we went to this little tiny theater and saw The Rain People, ironically enough, and Rashomon. I remember liking both of them."
"I still think we should have seen Once Upon a Time in the West at the other theater." John cleared his throat. "Fewer subtitles," he clarified. "And the seats are more comfortable."
Several of the men nodded in agreement. Damon kept glancing back at John out of the corner of his eye. Did he think John didn't notice? How on earth was John going to get him to stop being creepy?
Awhile later when the torture of The Partner Quiz was over, John breathed a huge sigh of relief. He hated having to make up things on the spot, even if he and Harold did have enough experience together that not all of their answers were made up.
Chris and Don started handing out prizes to the couples who made it through the four parts of the long walk working as a team. In third place, Drew and Selina Copek won a dinner for two at the hotel's very nice restaurant. There was a weekend stay at the hotel on a return trip for Alexis and Genevieve Winters-Brown, who came in second. Robyn and Marjorie Borich had come in first place, and were both eager to collect a full spa package. Last, but not least, there was a couple's massage at the hotel's mini spa for John and Harold. While they'd come in almost dead last, they had been working together as a team the entire time, unlike most of the others.
"This would be good for your back, Harold," John whispered, as he sat back down after picking up their prize envelope.
"If you think I'm going to-"
"Relax, Harold. I didn't mean anything by it."
"Sorry. You're right. It's fine."
When John got up again to deal with their lunch trash, Damon Parris approached him, carrying his own trash.
"Arguing again? How did a hottie like you, land a nerd like that?"
John refused to face him. "Damon, right? First off, that's rude. Second, that's none of your business."
Damon leered at him. "I might have married a woman, but we have an open relationship... if you know what I mean?"
"What's your point?" John stared at one of the boarded up windows of the farm house, making sure to keep his expression stony.
"You're gorgeous! I wouldn't mind..."
"Our relationship is NOT open."
"But, are you sure you wouldn't-"
"Thank you for understanding."
Damon frowned, then stalked off as John turned back to Harold, quick to put an arm around him.
"Feeling a little possessive, are we, John?"
"Is a matter of fact, yes."
"Why? What happened?"
"I think Damon just tried to get me to sleep with him, and maybe his wife too."
"What? But..."
"They have an open relationship," John said with a smirk.
"Oh... Oh!" Harold shivered beneath John's arm. "That is not okay. Do I need to go talk to him?" Harold started to get up and John tightened his grip on his waist.
"It's fine, Harold. I'm fine. I took care of it. You don't need to protect me, but thank you for wanting to."
Harold relaxed, leaning into him with a sigh of relief.
As the other couples were standing up, throwing away their trash and getting ready to head back to the hotel, Selina approached the two men, her husband otherwise occupied.
"You two argue a lot, but you're not fooling anyone," she said. "John never hesitated to help you on the obstacle course, Harold, and he did it with kindness, not just a sense of duty. Then, I saw you try to rush off to protect him from poachers, as it were, just now. You listen to each other. Even when you say you lack communication and argue all the time. So, why are you here? Are you undercover cops? Feds?"
There was a pause, and then John said, "we'd tell you..." He winked. "But then we'd have to kill you."
Selina cracked up laughing, her hand covering her mouth doing nothing to dim the high-pitched cackles. "Well, you just tell me if you need my help, whatever it is you're up to. I need a little excitement in my life, you know?"
The walk back to the hotel followed a simple trail with no obstacle courses or tricky questions. John was grateful on Harold's behalf as his friend was leaning on him more and more with each step they took.
"Do you want to stay here and have them send the golf cart back for us?" John suggested.
"No. I'll be fine," Harold refused.
Don had asked if they wanted to set the pace, but Harold had insisted that wasn't necessary, and so they were at the back of the group again. John had to admit, being at the back did have it's advantages. While he worked to hold Harold up, he was able to keep an eye on the others, and observe their behavior. Though most of what he saw was a group of people tired after a long few hours on a strange obstacle course. No one said much.
Harold lurched out of John's grasp, John just managing to grab his hand and pull him close before he would have face planted on the ground.
"Are you okay?" John asked, their faces mere inches apart.
"I tripped on a root. I think. Thanks for catching me."
"You're welcome." John smiled, and was relieved when Harold gave him a small smile back. Exhaustion ringed his eyes though, and John wanted to get him back to the hotel for a nap before dinner as fast as possible.
No one had noticed that they'd stopped, everyone lost in their own inner worlds it seemed. John shifted so Harold could stand on his own feet again, then moved beside him and put an arm around him for better support.
"What would I have ever done without you?" Harold mumbled as they continued on.
And wasn't that the question of the hour? John's heart rate had gone up and his palms were damp. He had to remind himself again that they did not have that kind of relationship, even if he did enjoy having Harold that close... And then another thought slammed into his head. Was Harold so exhausted because of his previous injury and the stress of the activities they'd been doing? Or was it due to something else? Cancer, maybe? Could he be that sick? Was John about to lose the one person who had kept him going and kept him sane these past few years? Harold had always been a private person. John understood that. But this... would Harold tell him if he was terminally ill?
John gripped his hip tighter and kept them going, suddenly frightened out of his mind.