Three days. Harold Finch straightened up from the chair he was slumped in with a groan. His damaged body didn't need the extra abuse. Slim, gentle fingers landed on his shoulders, and began to rub, but carefully. He, who kept the truth of everything to himself, had found himself confessing the truth of his injuries and surgery to Stacey. She knew about the fusion surgery, and the pins in his neck, she knew about his back and his hip, and the limp that was permanent.

Then she carefully put her hands on him, and began massage. It was subtle the changes he could read in the level of pain he routinely experienced, and it would never be a permanent improvement she warned him. But perhaps it might help a little.

He nearly drowned then, in the hope in her brown eyes. The glisten of tears he knew were for his suffering. There was nothing she could have done to prevent the accident, and nothing she could do to take away the pain permanently. But that was Stacey, she did what she could.

Right now he was more grateful than he could possibly express for her patience, her understanding, and her determination to keep things on an even keel while John…

Harold stared down at his partner. At least Reese was off the oxygen, and he was lucid in the moments he woke up. Tillmann was pleased with his progress, the fever had come down.

Now he was just tired, lethargic and wiped out from the pneumonia that had wracked his system for three days. Carter had been forced to go back to work, with a reluctance that was both gratifying and strangely unnerving to Finch. Of course, the instant that John awoke with a relatively clear head, he had wanted to get up and return to duty.

It was Stacey who kept him in bed. She sat and argued with him. Reese swept all the arguments that both Finch and Stacey could make aside easily. Then Stacey cried.

She didn't sob and wail. She just allowed her tears to gather and fall. It stopped Reese in his tracks. If it hadn't been serious, Harold Finch would almost have laughed at the confused and guilty expression on John Reese's face. The man faced bullets on a daily basis, thugs armed with all sorts of weapons, he had fought for his life and for the lives of others, now he was stopped in his tracks by the tears of a woman.

Reese backtracked. He promised to stay put. And would she please now stop crying.

"Oh don't stop me." Stacey said, "I discovered this quite by accident when I was eight. Nonno always said it was my most useful skill." She leant in and gave Reese a kiss on the cheek. "You promised." The upward inflection on the end of the word showing that she wasn't to be trifled with.

The way she melted into Harold's arms, the heat seeker kiss that they shared. Reese didn't know whether to die of embarrassment or whether Harold was going to kill him for being privy to such a 'secret'.

Then she was gone.

Reese slumped back against the pillows and turned dazed eyes in Finch's direction.

"Unbelievable." He muttered.

"Y..Yes." It was not lost on Reese that his employer was just as dazed and confused as he was. Stacey Collins was a force to be reckoned with.

Once clear of the building, Stacey started to lay down a trail that a bloodhound wouldn't be able to follow. Keeping Harold and John safe was the most important thing for her right now.

Keeping trouble away from Harold and John meant that they got to do what they did so brilliantly. And Stacey Anne Collins got to spend time with the most brilliant, kind, wonderful man she had ever met.

She had never been in love before. Now all at once, she had blundered into something so powerful it took her breath away. She had known the instant their hands joined in the restaurant at the club, something happened. It was subtle. He was terrified. She was terrified, but going through with what they had done had sent the message that Stacey knew what they were about and she wasn't scared of them. Even though he was terrified, Harold had done everything he could to make the dinner experience a happy one for her. He had flirted with her, he was clever and charming and sweet, and special. She could listen to him talk all day.

She had heard of Carl Elias, she had never met him, but she had heard enough not to care for the man's ambitions. It had been Elias who had taken John and her horse Harold. That he had done that, and not made a move since was bothering her.

Driving back and forth between the city and the beach house that Harold had bought her, made her day very long. But it was worth it until she could re-settle in New York. Besides if she built up the business, she would have some sort of income and be able to put a manager in place for when she did move back. Have more than one shop. That was a prospect that appealed.

She looped back to her car, she was within a block when she spotted someone she had seen before. Incredibly unlucky, she glanced up, spotted the second man and knew that she was going to have to make a fight of it.

Here we go again! Her overriding emotion was one of anger. Here were the idiots who stole her horse, and injured John. "What part of NO, ain't clear." Stacey growled under her breath, fisting her trusty lighter and pulling out a full can of hairspray.

"Time to play boys, and girly's got a whole bag of tricks." She had been dealing with this crap her whole life, and she sure was sick of it.

It was the same two idiots from the building where John had come to her aid. Stacey unleashed something between a howl of rage and a growl of frustration and ignited the hairspray, just as thug number one was reaching for her. "Didn't get enough of this the first time, huh." Thug two grabbed her, Stacey slammed her head back into his face with force. He yelped and let go.

She ran. Platform heels were not made for sprinting, but she had been doing that a long time too. She rounded a corner. Checked, no one seemed to be following her, turned back to walk away, which was when she saw him.

She had never seen him, but she knew who she was looking at. "Elias." She looked down, saw what was in his hand, knew that he was crazy enough to kill her then and there. Survival mattered the most here. He reached out to grab her arm, resistance would get her killed, and all she could think of was how this was going to hurt her lover.