She'd not planned on going up to Harold's assistant, especially not right after she'd had sex with Malcolm Olsen in the office over, but an unseen force had pushed her along with a muted sense of urgency. Soon the prostitute found herself stood before the assistant – not too much older than herself – with a cautious smile on her face.

"Hello." She greeted the busy assistant pleasantly. "I was wondering if Mister Wren is available."

As soon as Harold's assistant glanced up it was clear to Harbor that she'd been seen getting dragged into Olsen's office. The look on this woman's face was as if she were staring at scum, Harbor could cope though, she'd seen that look before when people figured out what she was.

"I'm sorry," began the elder woman that clearly showed she wasn't sorry in the least, "but Mister Wren is a very busy man and wouldn't want to be disturbed." 'by an escort' was left unsaid but Harbor heard it.

At least she'd figured out he was actually in his office, she'd honestly not expected that. Harbor sighed, this wasn't the best time but when else was Harold going to be so close for her to talk to?

"Please?" The green-eyed beauty persisted. "Could you just say 'Hank' and if he tells you no then okay, I'll go and leave you both alone."

The assistant rolled her eyes as if she were a teenager being asked to take the trash out by their parents but eventually relented when Harbor made no attempt to move even an inch. Slowly she got up and walked the short distance to the office door, knocked and then poked her head in. Harbor expected the negative answer so much she could already hear it but when the assistant came back her face was coated over by surprise.

"You can go in." She told the escort suspiciously.

Harbor nodded her thanks before she went towards Harold's office. Her heart had soared at the fact he'd actually see her but as she stepped through the door it fell to the ground dead when she though that maybe he just wanted to make it clear he'd gotten bored of her.

The pair just looked at one another a moment, Harbor in the middle of the room and Finch at his desk, until green eyes faltered and glanced off elsewhere as though the walls were suddenly far more interesting.

"I like your office." She managed after a moment or two. "It's cleaner but … more bland than Malcolm's office. Less lived in."

Harold just continued to sit there with a pen in his hand as he regarded her. She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow when she turned her attention back to the bespectacled man, her head tilted a little to the side as well.

"That suit isn't as bespoke as your usual ones. You look practically casual." She smiled and finally, finally, Finch spoke.

"Good eye." He lay the pen down. "Harold Wren, though very well off, doesn't quite have the same financial backing that that I do." A moment hung between them, usually their silences were calm and gentle but this one was awkward. "I apologize for cutting off our contact-"

Harbor quickly interrupted. "It's okay, Hank, you were bound to get bored with me eventually."

Finch's brow furrowed deeply as she approached his desk as if she'd be kicked out soon. He never underestimated her ability to shut his brain off but Harbor hadn't ever confused him so much.

"Bored?" Was all he managed to get out.

The twenty-three year old shrugged sadly. "Hank, I'm an escort, it's okay. I see men develop and want something else semi-often. I'm not angry or anything."

The elder man sat there as his puzzlement grew, then his mind shot back to that day she'd left him on the street after she'd met Grace for the first time. Had she really assumed he'd get bored of her and just dismiss her presence like she was nothing? Then Finch thought about it, really thought about it, dismiss her was exactly what he'd done, that was what he'd done the entire time they'd known each other. Even when they'd had breakfast at the café he'd acted like she stopped existing once the meal was done with; he'd not seen it at the time but that was exactly how it would have appeared to Harbor. Add that to the fact he constantly dismissed people, stayed away from them on a personal level no matter what name he was using, faked his death, and what the hell else was Harbor to think?

Harold shook his head as best his neck would allow; which wasn't much. "I am not bored of you, Harbor. I apologize if you feel that way, it was not my intent. Things lately have been … chaotic. Miss Groves returned and in her wake there is always consequences for others to deal with."

Harbor's face changed then, lit up as if she'd suddenly got some hope back. However, when she clocked the sorrowful dullness in his eyes the happiness fell again and morphed into concern. In an instant she'd rounded his desk and crouched down and moved his chair around to face her like one would a crying child.

"How bad is it? Can I help?"

The suit clad man just looked at her a time, she'd not asked what was happening or for details, just if she could help. It was usually the ones society destroyed that grew up to try and save the world.

Harold sighed. "I fear it is quite bad, Harbor. People are likely going to die. And no, there's nothing you can do to help. Unless you can travel back in time to when I was at MIT and give me a warning." He breathed out a laugh.

"I haven't figured time travel out just yet." She replied in jest.

Slowly she stood and settled herself in Harold's lap, she wrapped her arms around the weary man and just cuddled him. If she couldn't do anything to help the situation maybe she could just give him some comfort. Harold let his eyes slip shut as his arms snaked around her tiny waist. How did she do that? How did Harbor just make everything seem alright with a single touch? Her hair smelt of coconut, a scent he'd come to find soothing.

After a moment she pressed a light kiss to Finch's neck as she nestled against him.

"I don't know what's happening, and I know you won't tell me but I'm not worried."

"Why?"

"Because whatever it is has got to get through two super soldiers, a homicide detective, whoever your friend Root is and the best man I've ever met." She told him assuredly. "You can't fail."

One of Harold's large hands left her waist so it could stroke though her heavenly soft hair.

"I don't know how you have so much faith in us, but I thank you for it. I'm not sure I agree that we can't fail though." His voice remained quiet and level.

"Well, if you do then Bear will taken them down. He's a good boy like that."

That got the elder man to smirk and he was truly grateful for it, seemed like he laughed less and less nowadays. He needed to smile. Harbor kissed him properly then and his body drove him forwards to kiss back like a thirty man who'd found an oasis. Harbor gripped his tie – a habit he'd noticed – and moved to straddle him as their lips continued to meet. Both knew it wouldn't lead to sex, they knew it, the pair just needed to kiss one another.

Finch ran his hands up her firm thighs and over her the fabric of her dress to squeeze her ass as her hair tickled his face. So beautiful, so perfect, so … the words didn't even exist. Harbor's little mewlings though, oh they were delightful. He felt happiness surge within him. Samaritan lay forgotten and instead all Harold's big brain could cope with was Harbor Caldwell.

"I love you." He breathed against her ear.

The whisper was hardly there but he'd heard it and he knew she'd heard it. In an instant, jerked motion Harold pulled back from the stunning woman in his arms and his blue orbs cast away from her to the desk. Internal panic took over, screaming at him. He'd not been supposed to say that, he'd meant to keep it locked inside his head where it couldn't hurt her. Harold shouldn't have said anything, now she'd be in even more danger! He couldn't do to her what he'd done to Grace, he couldn't.

Harold's eyes snapped back when he felt Harbor cup his cheek and tilt his attention towards her. Her touch was so soft and kind. Finch looked at her, truly looked at her; emeralds lined subtly with black flicks, no lipstick of course since had been working. So stunning, said his mind. More beautiful than Aphrodite and Andromeda combined.

Then she kissed him and it was different to how they'd kissed before, it wasn't full of passion or want, just love and it melted Harold's paranoid heart. His arms tightened around her without his brain's permission so he could hold her flush against him.

"I love you too, Harold."

Maybe Mister Reese had been right and he had to admit his feelings for this very young woman. Too young in his mind but his body and heart didn't seem to care. Harold felt unworthy of Harbor but damn did he love her. If Root was right and they were all the first to die now Samaritan was active, he needed Harbor to know he loved her; she had that right. Harold loved Grace, always would, but it seemed that hadn't stopped him falling in love with the wildly intelligent goddess in his lap.

He opened his mouth to speak but not before Harbor got one more kiss in.

"Do escorts fall in love with their clients often?" He teased, pleased when she chuckled.

"You've never been a client." She whispered back.

That was true, he hadn't ever been a client to Harbor. She'd always been with him because she'd wanted to be not because of money; despite what he'd assumed the first time.

Their foreheads pressed together and Harold suddenly felt as though he could do anything in the world. Her smooth skin, her gemstones for eyes, her magically unique brain, all of her loved him and Harold had no idea why but he'd take it as long as he could get it.

The pair sat there for a long time without a word passing between them. For that time it was as if only Harold and Harbor existed. Then though he heard a noise outside his office and remembered the world, remembered why she'd been in the building to start with.

Finch sighed before he spoke, voice low and hesitant. "I have no right to ask but … Mister Olsen-"

Harbor cut him off in an instant with a loving kiss.

"No more Malcolm, Promise. There's a difference between knowing I'm an escort and having your girlfriend fuck the guy in the office across from you while you sit here working."

Harold's eyebrows shot up. "Girlfriend?"

Reese had teased him, God had Reese teased him, about that word, slipped it into so many conversations just to annoy the elder man. Finch still thought of Grace as his fiancée though, so having a girlfriend felt wrong – especially with Samaritan coming – but … he couldn't turn those eyes away.

"I'd like to be." She told him shyly; he'd only seen shy from her once before and he wouldn't fuck it up like last time. "I know you still love her and I don't blame you for that, but I'd like to be more than just the girl you sleep with every now and again."

His hand ran gently through her raven locks once more. "You've always been more than that."

The pair kissed again, soft and loving just as before.

"I left Grace to keep her safe and everything is telling me to do the same with you but … you've already seen my world. You know Mister Reese and Miss Shaw, befriended them even, and you've aided us. You're already part of this world and I don't see you leaving it any time soon."

Harbor just chuckled, those impossibly green eyes still on his cerulean ones.

"Is this 'reclusive billionaire' for yes, Harbor, you can be my girlfriend?"

Finch smiled, oh it felt so nice to smile, then nodded bodily. If he spoke in that moment he was likely to change his mind and rebuff her just to keep the woman in his arms safe. He always told himself and Reese that he stayed away from people to keep them safe and that was true but frankly Harold was tired of being alone. Harbor had seen his world and refused to run away, she was far braver than so many others.

The couple ended up just sat there, Finch with his arms wrapped around her slender frame and Harbor settled against his suit clad chest. Neither man nor woman knew how long they stayed there and truthfully didn't care. Eventually though, Harbor straightened and pulled away a little so she could look at him; Harold mourned the loss of her warmth.

"I should go before your assistant starts thinking you and Malcolm share a prostitute, if she doesn't already."

Harold breathed out a short laugh. "Let her, she can always be promoted out if needed."

The escort stared at him a moment and Finch could practically hear the cogs turning inside her head, then it all seemed to click for her.

"You own this place, don't you." It wasn't a question exactly, specially not when it came with her suspicious expression.

Harold shrugged as best his body was able. "Maybe. Or perhaps I just have friends in high places." He teased mysteriously.

Harbor didn't seem impressed. "Yeah, but I suspect ninety-nine percent of those people are all called Harold and walk with a limp."

Finch let out a hum. "Yes, maybe I am getting a little predictable with my identities' names. What was your suggestion? Chris P. Bacon?"

Harbor nodded frantically as though it were the best idea in the universe … and because he'd actually remembered.

"Uh-huh, but I think I'm liking Ben Dover better now."

Finch rolled his eyes. "Remind me never to let you name anything."

They kissed again before the elder man cupped her cheek so he could just look at her. Oh how he adored her. All of her was beautiful but only those eyes were truly stunning; Harold's favorite bit of her.

"I don't deserve you." His brain let that slip without his permission, seemed it was letting a lot slip today.

She shook her head in disagreement. "That's my decision not yours. And who could ever turn down a man who knows exactly which shoes a girl wants and has a military trained guard dog?"

"Bear is actually Mister Reese's dog." He told her off-handedly.

Harbor snorted; a very unladylike noise but it got her opinion across.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You two are like a gay couple who have been married for fifty years when it comes to Bear."

The tech genius raised an eyebrow, was that really how people saw himself and John when they were caring for Bear? Harold had no qualms with people thinking him gay, in fact he was a little impressed people would think him capable of managing to snag such a handsome man, no, it was the old married couple bit that gave him pause. He knew th at he and Reese had developed a sort of short hand over the years they'd been working together but Harold had though them on friends and colleagues level not old, married, guys with a dog level.

Finch found himself knocked out of her thoughts when Harbor left his lap and stood before him to straighten her outfit. She bent over before him for two reasons, one; she wanted another kiss and two; so he could see straight down her dress; her teasing had turned to torment.

"I really have to go." Harbor lamented quietly. "Why don't you come to mine tonight, Hank?"

He smiled, Finch had been slightly unsure about the nickname to begin with but now he treasured it. No matter what he changed his name to or who he pretended to be Harold would always be Hank.

"Are you cooking or would you like me to bring something?"

Harbor's smile darkened and turned coy. "I was thinking I could be dinner."

She wiggled her eyebrows at him and Harold felt his cheeks flush pink. His mind kept telling him no. he needed to stay away from her but his body and heart wouldn't let him. Harold wanted to be with Harbor. He couldn't go back to Grace, not ever, but Harbor was right there and – for some unfathomable reason – loved him.

When he was quiet too long Harbor chuckled knowing she's short circuited him or something so filled the quiet and took pity on him.

"You could bring Thai."

That seemed to reboot him because Harold nodded less than a second later in that bodily way of his and set about fixing his tie in the computer screen's reflection after Harbor had crumpled it.

"Cool, I'll see you later. Just show up whenever you're done playing technophobe underwriter."

One more kiss and then she was gone. Had that just happened? Harold had said he loved her and not only had he not been rejected but he'd found Mister Reese had been right on the money. This utterly perfect goddess of a woman for some strange reason loved him. Harold wasn't a monk, he'd had sex since he'd faked his death and left Grace. Seen the occasional fille de joie or sat in an expensive to flirt someone into his bed for a night. He'd not had a seriously relationship … of any kind, just a friendship with John Reese. No girlfriend, no boyfriend, no nothing. Now though it seemed he had Harbor Caldwell and he loved her. Finch could go back to the ferry bombing knowing everything he did now and he'd still leave Grace, he'd always leave her if it meant she was safe. Harbor though, she was a part of his, Reese's and Shaw's world in the same way Zoe Morgan was, a secondary member of Team Machine, someone in the background always there ready to lend a hand when needed. She wasn't the innocent hearted type like Grace – and Finch hated that he still compared the two women but they were the only meaningful relationships he had.

Harbor really was the Zoe to his John.