Chapter Twenty-One (All Things Must End…)

Harold watched the two figures, absently putting his lap top into it's carry case, standing slowly. He peered through the people passing by his spot. Edward Miller held out his hand to the waiting traffic, a gentlemanly gesture that the older generation often used when walking with a female.

Finch moved through the people in his path, toward the slowly approaching pair.

One part of him was elated because Cordelia had done the right thing..coming to him. Another could sense, from her frequent, awkward glances that, she was still not sure about her decision or..perhaps it was just that she was no longer wishing to have anything to do with him..in any capacity.

Their eyes had met once or twice and even from this distance, which was rapidly closing..it only took her a second to lower her eyes or..look away. Not a good sign at all.

She smiled brightly for her companion, pulling Miller up short after having crossed the street, fixing his shirt front, straightening his worn corduroy jacket. "Millie.." she chanced a hasty glance to a slowly approaching Harold Finch. "This..gentleman wants to make your acquaintance. I think you will have a lot in common."

She stepped slightly back and away. Harold having reached them, his attention directed to Edward Miller, although he couldn't resist a quiet glance in the woman's way occasionally.

The other man scowled slightly, examining Finch absently.

"Mr. Miller." Harold offered his hand. "It is a great privilege to.."

"..Professor?" the smaller man seem taken aback but then..his face broke into a wide grin. "..It IS you! You don't remember me." It was taken for granted by Harold's blank expression. "Do you." He took the out-stretched hand, shaking it gingerly. "I thought you were dead."

Harold stared into the liquid brown eyes, something trying to click in his head. He had seen those eyes before but..the straggly hair and unkempt beard..

"You used to call me 'William'." Miller helped jog Finch's memory, the thought amusing him, clearly.

"..Did I?" Harold was astonished at such a faux pas. "Why did you never..correct my misconception?"

"Did it matter?" Miller was even more amused.

"It matters..now." Harold was glad he could correct the blunder of before. "It matters..a great deal..Edward. If I may? It was a mistake on my part and I would like it if you would accept my apology."

Miller waved the issue aside. "The 'Gadget' took up everyone's time, Professor..not just your's. We are all guilty of using our time..unwisely. But, you did give new meaning to the word..workaholic."

Finch nodded slowly, memories surfacing rapidly. "The 'Gadget'." He lifted his head, musing to himself. "An apropos label. In reference to the 'Manhattan Project's' project of the same name." the man considered the similarities between his design and that of the other Scientists working on the earlier Los Alamos' collaborative enterprise. "the line from the Hindu scripture quoted by Robert Oppenheimer comes to mind. 'I am become death the destroyer of worlds."

"I prefer to think of all the lives we saved..and will save." Miller corrected Finch's statement. "Someone was going to create the damned thing. At least, our original motives were pure in nature."

Cordelia touched the older man's sleeve, getting his attention. "Millie? You and the gentleman have things to talk about, yes?"

Miller glanced back to a patiently waiting Harold Finch. "..I believe we do, Kiddo."

"Call me." She shoved the rest of her money into his vest pocket. "Don't lose that." She motioned. "And don't give it away."

She hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go. She might not see him again, if she knew Finch. He would whisk Millie away to a safe place. Would they be allowed contact? She didn't think so. "Do you remember my numbe.."

"Stop 'mothering' me." The man kissed her forehead, putting her away from him gently but firmly. "You're a 'Nudge'..go away now. Grown- ups are speaking of important matters."

She hugged him again, closing her eyes to the feel of the moment that she might remember it always. She swallowed hard, then..walked away.

On her way, she noted John Reese, who stood by, close but not too close, as always, keeping viligance over his 'wards'. "…Keep him safe." She whispered brokenly. "Watch over him."

The man nodded minutely, grasping her arm as she passed. "I will watch over you all, Cordelia."

She continued on.

Finch had noted the exchange but was too far away to hear it.

"She's a pip." Miller chuckled his mirth. "But quite the little nag, if you let her get away with it." He returned his attention to Finch.

"Those who assumed control over our project have proven.." Harold brought matters back to the table. "unsuitable custodians."

"Secrecy is paramount..think of the chaos if people knew their every word and action was being scrutinized." Miller pointed out the obvious, however. "that would not set well with the general populace, especially in our part of the world."

"How did you..find out about.."

"We weren't stupid." He laughed. "We could put two and two together..especially the mathematicians, Professor. We figured it out in time but everyone had a vested interest in keeping mum."

"There is secrecy..and then there is a line to be crossed." Harold said. "They have crossed it many times over."

"Not sure if they had any choice." Miller was ideological. "In theory perhaps. Too many variables in the real world. But, you know that already."

Harold wasn't so sure he did any longer, having now met John Reese.

"This…other system." He broached the subject warily. "What do you know of it, Edward? Can you tell me?"

"Not much..after Alpha shut down the project, the same people contacted me about a month later. I thought.." the man shrugged his stocky shoulders. "to be truthful, something had gone wrong with the prototype and we were starting from the ground up again."

'Alpha'..the designated sobriquet for Nathan Ingram. It all seemed so long ago suddenly.

"So these people contact me again, out of the blue and I have a job again. I do much better when I can keep busy." Miller continued his tale. "I was at odds when Alpha closed us down so unexpectedly. Too much time to think, you know? All the time in the world to..think." Miller was..drifting.

Finch hurriedly moved on. "You may call me Harold, if you like."

Miller studied the man carefully. "…Doesn't suit you." Was his decision. "Now, what's this all about? Meeting like this after all these years? I don't believe in coincidences..do you?"

Reese stood a discrete few steps away, smiling at the man's words. Miller did not miss much. John stood at military 'rest' unaware he had adopted the pose. It was simply a part of him now, his hands folded quietly before him.

Miller shifted a cautious stare. "…Is he the young man who saved my Cordelia's life?"

Finch glanced at Reese, motioning the man to another task. John moved off instantly, understanding the subtle hint, but all the time, he kept a close eye on the two men.

"He is a very good friend and yes..indispensable at times." Harold motioned behind them. "Shall we be comfortable?" his back was beginning to kill him. "There is so much to discuss. If you prefer another setting?" he gave the option.

"It's a lovely day." Edward looked up to the clear sky. "Fresh air heals the soul."

"Does it?" Harold wondered.

"Is your soul in need of repair, Sir?" Miller had picked up on the melancholy. "I think perhaps, Cordelia's is."

"Ms Fellows has had a very difficult time of late." Finch sat slowly, as the other man had taken a seat on the bench under the spreading elms. "She is much stronger than either of us give credit, I believe."

"She seems rather fragile to me at the moment." Millie shared his concerns.

Reese returned with hot coffee and tea for Finch.

"Thank you, Mr. Reese." Introductions were made. Reese's phone interrupted the proceedings, however and he excused himself.

Finch's brow furrowed for he noted that John was not using his regular cell. The younger man was up to something. He would question him later.

"Is he the man who broke my Cordelia's heart?" Millie was fatalistic about the matter, smiling over at Finch. "Someone did."

Finch had the grace to be..bothered, keeping his features perfectly placid. "Your..Cordelia?" he had meant to question the idiom before. "I'm not certain I fully understand the significance of that..phrase."

"She's like a daughter to me, better actually..because Delia didn't desert her Father when he cracked up like Sandra did." He quipped. "Although can one really blame another for bailing at such a time? Cordelia thinks I don't remember my true daughter..but I do."

Finch studied the man carefully.

"I just can't resist 'giving her the business' as she says." The dark eyes danced mischievously. "You and I are a lot alike in that fashion..aren't we."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Like the morning Alpha came down and asked how things were going and you delivered, in that dead pan way you have about you..that all the 'Gadget's' circuit boards had fried some time in the night and that you were tending your resignation. That you could no longer work under such primitive, trying conditions."

Harold's memory was suitably jogged. "..Good Lord. I did do that." He was incredulous. "Whatever possessed me?" he certainly could not account for his actions at this moment.

"It was a bad night for everyone." Millie spread his hands. "It was just your way of breaking the tension. We all had a good laugh..except Alpha. I thought he was going to stroke out. Losing you? Not an option." He chuckled lowly.

"What a horrible thing for me to have done." Finch was mortified by his behavior.

"Nahh. It was funny." Miller chuckled again..then sobered. "..Too bad about Alpha. He was a good man. He is missed."

Harold took a moment to remember his friend. Yes, Nathan Ingram was dearly missed.

"Say, you aren't one of Cordelia's 'walking dead' are you?" Miller lightened the conversation. "have you seen those kids out at all hours of the night wearing that garb? I get a kick out of them..as long as one of them doesn't try to eat my face."

Harold..smiled. "I have a job offer for you Mr. Miller. The position calls for your expertise. It would entail relocating but..the money is excellent and the climate is moderate year round." He put it on the line. "Did I mention..the offer has no expiration date. It is permanent, for as long as you wish it."

Millie…blinked.

Reese sat the tea and his coffee down on the computer desk as was his usual M.O. these days. He and Finch had fallen into a routine. Reese found, he enjoyed..routines.

"Oh..John." Finch pulled himself from his reverie. The man had been simply standing, in front of a row of dusty, neatly lined books, staring straight ahead. Until he noted another's presence. "Did our Mr. Miller enjoy the flight out?"

Reese could think of other topics to discuss but.. "He likes the warmer climate. Said New York winters were killing him."

"I dare say." Harold nodded slowly, making his way to his desk and his tea. "Thank you for making the flight with him. He will be safe on the installation."

"It's like Fort Knox there." Reese had felt rather claustrophobic himself. "Are you building another 'A-bomb' out there? Are we going to invade Canada?"

"Atomic Bombs are so very obsolete, Mr. Reese." Harold cut him a chastising glance. "and rather ineffectual by today's standards. I would not waste my time or resources."

"I passed your instructions concerning Miller's..episodes on to your top guy out there." Reese sipped his coffee, enjoying the aromatic scent of the dark beans he preferred. "He said you called him personally to explain the guidelines for dealing with the little guy."

Harold sat his tea aside, booting up his computers.

"Don't you trust this guy?"

"I do but Miller might be difficult at times. I would imagine, when and if he.." Harold shrugged slightly.

"Goes off the deep end?"

"Quaintly put but..yes."

"I explained that he is to be given every consideration and assistance, no matter the circumstance and that anyone not adhering to, or blatantly ignoring said rules will be terminated..I didn't elaborate on the method."

Finch smiled. "Words take on an entirely different meaning when coming from you."

The silence came and it was a comfortable one. Harold's melancholy mood returned, however. "..Did he seem..content, John?"

"Actually, he seemed like a kid with a new toy." John told the truth. "I think you've given him a new lease on life. He did ask about Cordelia Fellows though."

Harold moved carefully, keeping his tone neutral, his features placid. "..What about her?"

"He's concerned for her safety..wants to know when he can see her again."

"..Perhaps you should arrange a call?" Finch turned his body toward Reese, inquiring. "Of course. You would have to transmit from here. It's the only site I trust." He glanced at his office space.

"And you could arrange to be conveniently..elsewhere when I bring her. You want I should throw a black hood over her head?" Reese needled the guy a bit, finally discussing the elephant in the room. "that she not be privy to the location of our 'BatCave'?"

"Ms Fellows can be trusted." Finch snapped. "Not so certain about you any longer."

Reese chuckled lowly.

Finch arose, needing some files from his cabinets across the way. "I'm curious. You've never told me. How you managed to win Bertineau over to your way of thinking. I know you did, however." He stood, looking at the young man.

"Yeah? How do you know that, Finch?" Reese played along, saying his lines.

"I was rather alarmed, actually. I kept close tabs on both our young women, of course while you were away." Harold leaned on the cabinet with his arm supporting a goodly portion of his weight which eased his back somewhat. "Detective Fusco has been very good to help out in your absence. I alerted him. I thought they were being followed, actually, at one point."

Reese remained calm, waiting for the story to unfold.

"Turns out..they were." Finch watched Reese's reaction. There was none. "..I ran a check on the suspected perpetrators. They are hired out of a top notch outfit here in New York City. Someone has hired a full time security detail for the ladies and I was curious to know..who."

"Bertineau." Reese..grinned slyly.

"They are on permanent retainer." Finch nodded minutely. "What..did you do?"

"That day you met with Miller? Before..that morning?" Reese jogged the other man's memory. "I took a little trip upstate. It was no trouble at all to..borrow the guy's daughter and youngest son for a spell."

Finch..straightened.

"I just wanted to show him..our word is our bond." Reese shrugged innocently. "they were never in any danger and I told him, when he called. That a GPS tracker would arrive by FedEx any minute..which it did, while we were chatting. But now he knows how simply we can carry out.."

"Your threats."

"My promises."

Harold made a sound in his throat but..he let it go. "I see."

"I did good?"

"..'Good' is a relative term but..it was necessary. The end justifies the means with some people."

"I thought so too." Reese concurred. "You're going to act like everything is fine, though, right? We're going to pretend you don't miss Cordelia Fellows."

Finch's attitude altered visibly. "I do not inquire about your personal life, please desist from doing so of mine."

"I would tell you." John wasn't bothered by Finch's mood. "Davidivitch and I are still seeing each other..occasionally. I enjoy her company. I like her. She's a good woman."

Finch was still standoffish. "I am pleased you have found a ..friend. But that does not negate.."

"Come on, Harold." Reese exasperated. "I don't like to see you like this. Davidivitch says Cordelia is miserable too. What is that getting anyone?"

Finch was clearly interested in the news but his pride refused allow him say as much. "I have not been..that." he informed John. "I have been preoccupied. We had two numbers in your absen.."

"Which Lionel handled."

"..Yes. Detective Fusco is proving an invaluable asset although perhaps it's best to keep that to ourselves for a while longer."

"We aren't discussing Fusco."

"We aren't discussing..anyone." Finch sent Reese a 'look'. "If you aren't needed here, and it appears you are not, for the moment..perhaps you would enjoy some time off. Well deserved, as it is." He mellowed just a bit.

"Not talking about it won't make it better." Reese pushed the envelope. "Is it so horrible, Finch..that I care if you're feeling like shit?"

Finch..sat, leaning back wearily in his chair, relaxing his stance. "No..of course not." He inclined his head slightly in deference to his friend. "Of course not, John. Thank you..truly. I appreciate your concern."

"But..you're fine and mind my own damned business." Reese nodded sagely.

Harold thought it through..for a long time. "..No." he made his decision. "No, I am..troubled, it's true." He sighed lightl, adjusting his glasses. "I regret how matters ended with..Cordelia." he trailed off again. John remained quiet, giving him space. "but frankly, I have no notion of how to right matters, even if she would welcome such an eventuality, which..I doubt."

He lifted a grim gaze. "I haven't been able to dismiss such thoughts from my mind."

"Then maybe there is hope for you yet." Reese sat on the edge of the man's desk. Which he knew Harold disliked but the man didn't even seem to note.

"I don't mean that ..we should continue where we left off. That would be wrong, I realize that..finally." Harold had made peace with that part of it..he hoped. "It just seemed so…cold. How we left it and I do not feel such emotions toward her. I was angry, true but..no longer. I wish matters were different, that's all."

"You always tell me.. 'wishing won't get it done'"

"I have never said any such thing to you, Mr. Reese."

"Well, maybe you should have." Reese arose. "Get your coat, boss..we're going to take a much needed trip."

"I don't think.."

"That's your problem, Finch…you think too much."