Finch wasn't too fond of the helicarrier. He found it too sterile, too reminiscent of the military that had chased him for many years. And advanced as SHIELD tech was, it still did not measure up to what Finch had gotten used to from working with Stark. Still, there was an up-side to being on the helicarrier. All of the personnel on board were seasoned agents, and all were aware of his "condition". They made sure they treated Finch with strict professionalism, and if at times it was tinged with caution, it was also tinged with some relief. A big green rage monster was hardly the weirdest thing these people would have seen, and they would definitely see the advantages of having one fighting on their side. It was nice to be around people who knew what he was and accepted it so easily. And there were some other advantages…
Fury was living up to his name, and Reese was his unfortunate victim. The debrief had been uncomfortable - while they had accomplished their mission it was clear that things could have gone a lot better with a lot less collateral damage and injuries. Most of the others had scattered as soon as possible, but John had remained to give a more detailed briefing. As the non-civilian member of the team (Steve had military experience, but was still trying to acclimate to the present and so was in a sort of in-between status and Widow had been off on a covert op) Reese had unfortunately become the target for Fury's ire (and Stark hadn't helped matters by winding him up before his exit). Knowing that much of Fury's wrath was due more to the situation than his performance he stoically stood there and let his superior vent. Finch, who had remained behind typing away on a pad when the others left and had been almost forgotten by the other occupants of the room, finished what he was doing and walked over to the other two. Looking Fury straight in the eye he stated with finality "It wasn't John's fault." He held Fury's gaze impassively as the other man wrestled down his anger. After a few minutes Finch nodded and with a "come along John" turned and left the room, Reese taking the opportunity to escape by following closely on his heals. As they walked down the corridor Finch glanced at Reese and murmured quietly "it really wasn't your fault John." John didn't say anything, but gave Harold a brief squeeze on the shoulder before heading off for a much wanted shower.
Wednesday was a special day on the helicarrier. It was the day the cook tried out new dessert recipes. A large group had already collected and were jostling each other to try and maneuver into a position to grab one of the limited treats when they were presented. But the mob quieted and parted to allow Finch to the front, where the cook gave him an extra large piece of the scrumptious cake of the day. Finch thanked the cook and took his prize to the table where Captain America was picking disconsolately at his uneaten meal. He barely looked up when Finch slid the tasty confection in front of him, but he did take a bite and start eating.
Stark was in the hangar bay, venting his frustration on the hapless mechanics charged with repairing the damaged quinjet. As most of the damage was dents and holes in the plating, there really wasn't much sophisticated technical work to be done. That didn't stop Stark from disparaging the intelligence of the mechanics at full volume, seemingly unaware of their looming menacingly closer to him. He stopped in mid-rant when Finch cleared his throat and asked if Tony could look over Steve's malfunctioning data pad. (Steve had given Finch the pad a few days earlier. Finch had quickly found and repaired the minor problem but thought Steve would appreciate some time away from the technology. The glitch Finch had just introduced would take Stark much longer to trace and repair. And no doubt he would notice some of the other modifications Finch had made. While the pad was in no way as sophisticated as JARVIS, it was now much more user-friendly in that it could almost operate itself. But instead of executing its functions purely autonomously, it would act by prompting its user to perform the desired functions, thereby training the user on how to use the pad. Finch was sure Tony would add some interesting additions to his training program, and his enthusiasm when he handed Steve back his pad would help to break the other man out of his funk. If nothing else, the two might launch into one of those arguments that they both so enjoyed.)
Finch was of the opinion that the medical staff were being a bit too cautious in their treatment of Thor. Certainly, his injuries had been grave and would have killed a mere mortal. But his Aesir physiology had rebounded quickly, and Thor was now chafing at the bedrest he was prescribed as a precaution. He brightened when Finch stopped by to relieve his monotony. He brightened even more when Finch handed him a six pack of beer. The nurse shot Finch a disapproving look as Thor popped the cap on the first can, but said nothing. When Finch asked Thor to give him a run down of the battle (which he could not remember from his hulked out state) Thor gladly launched into an over the top blow by blow account. Harold settled back and began mapping out in his head the next round of experiments he wanted to perform, keeping half an ear on Thor's tale to determine the salient points and commenting when necessary.