The clock had just struck six in the evening when John strutted into The Library with Bear hot on his heels to check if Harold had eaten, drunk and just generally done anything to keep himself alive since John had left him at his desk that morning. A day off was a rare thing, Shaw hadn't been seen at all, John had – for once – enjoyed the peaceful quiet but John suspected Finch had been playing alias and combing through every scrap of information he could find on Samaritan. Sometimes Reese thought Harold worse than himself. Sure enough he found Harold right where he'd left him but the man wasn't typing, just stared straight through the clear board and out the window in utter silence.
Bear rushed passed Reese and hopped into his bed but that didn't draw Finch's attention. For a split second the ex-agent wondered if his boss and friend was dead and posed by some sick and twisted killer but then his bold eyes noted the way Harold's chest rose and fell; definitely not dead.
"You okay there, Harold?" John asked in his usual deep voice. Harold still didn't move a muscle, clearly off in his own world. "Hey, Finch?!"
The sudden loud volume jolted the elder man out of his inner thoughts and back to the world. He turned bodily to see Reese stood not five steps away then felt Bear nuzzle into his knee for affection that the dog quickly got. When Finch realized the sun had just started to set he found himself wondering just how long he'd been sat there blankly.
"I'm fine, thank you, Mister Reese." Finch assured as he continued to tickle Bear's ears. "Nothing is wrong, I am fine."
Reese wasn't dumb, far from it, he didn't fall for Harold's words for a single second. That was how John ended up stood before the bespectacled man with his arms folded and an expectant look on his face. Finch said nothing, not a single word but Reese didn't give up easily, he could wait and wait if needed and that was exactly what John did until his friend finally caved and spilt.
"I might have... told Harbor I love her." Harold managed after a few minutes.
John's eyebrows shot up but soon a smile bloomed on his lips. "That's great, Harold. What did she say?"
Reese had been trying to get Harold to admit he loved Harbor for months without any success so this was the best news Reese could have heard. Finally Finch had come to his senses and Reese found himself genuinely happy for his employer.
"... That she loves me as well."
John nodded to himself even through the surprise in Harold's voice, how the man hadn't seen this sooner was a mystery.
"Yeah, we all already knew that." Reese informed Harold as he went to grab Bear a treat. "Shaw is closer with her than you think, they talk and then Shaw talks to me." Bear perked up at the sound of his treat box opening and quickly rushed to his other master. "I also don't suggest ever upsetting Harbor or Shaw is likely to turn you into an eunuch."
Finch paled at the comment while Bear munched down treats with glee.
"Dear God, I hope not."
Reese shrugged in that sad but true way of his before he flashed Finch a smile again and set the treats down much to Bear's irritation.
"Proud of you, Harold. Didn't think you had it in you to tell her."
Harold left out that he hadn't exactly told her but that it had more slipped out without his expressed permission. Reese went on a little longer about Harbor and being proud of Finch but the elder man only listened to around thirty percent of it all, he'd been too deep inside his head. Finch did, however, hear the words 'she's good for you' loud and clear. Was she good for him? She'd been there for breakfast to chit-chat about literature, Harbor had been there when they'd lost Carter and had comforted him throughout his, for lack of a better tern, mini breakdown. Thinking about it, Harbor Caldwell was good for him, he'd been smiling more often and generally felt happier in himself even after all the horrors and cruelties he'd seen. Yes, Harbor was good for him.
"... and don't worry about the girl being in danger, Finch," Reese assured, "whatever happens we'll deal with it and your girlfriend will be fine … especially if Sameen Shaw has taught her anything."
Harold started to relax about the situation then, it wasn't as though Harbor was completely incapable of defending herself and Miss Shaw was a very good teacher; the worried lingered though. Harold would do all he could to keep his green-eyed angel safe, Mister Reese appeared keen to protect her as well, and they already knew Miss Shaw's standpoint.
~X~
It was roughly nine in the evening when Harold finally showed up at Harbor's door, he had a bag of Thai in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other; he tucked said wine under his arm so he could knock then waited patiently. Didn't take her more than a few moments to answer the door and when she came into sight Harold couldn't stop the small smile which settled across his face. Sailor shorts with tiny golden buttons, small and round like a polished tear drop, as well as a red and black striped t-shirt. Hardly any make up and bare feet because Harbor wasn't putting on a show like she did for her clients, this was just her natural beauty and Harbor was all his. Her clients got Cassandra, sweet little Cassie, but Harold got the real woman underneath. He'd deal with the 'my girlfriend is a prostitute' worries later; frankly he was more concerned with the 'girlfriend' part of that sentence.
Finch took the Thai food straight through into the kitchen area with Harbor close behind him as if lured by the scent and knowing that girl she was. The sound of glass on the steel top kitchen island snapped her out of whatever Thai food heaven she'd been in and she instead made a detour to get a bottle opener for the wine. She tried to slip past him but Harold grabbed her by the hips and pulled her to him so her back was flush against his suit clad chest; practically melted into him. Harbor's head fell back on his shoulder so she could kiss his cheek; Harold honestly couldn't remember being so happy in a very long time.
Finch had done a lot of thinking before Reese had found him staring out a window back at The Library. He'd talked himself out of the urge to fake his death again in an attempt to protect Harbor, wasn't like she'd fall for it anyway. Eventually Harold had come to terms with the idea. Finch couldn't follow Grace around for the rest of his life, he'd always, always, love her but he loved Harbor too and he actually had a chance be with her. It felt right.
Harbor smiled at him, that smile she gave him when she knew he'd gotten deep inside his head. She smelt of coconuts, why did she always smell so heavenly of coconuts?
"So, honey," she teased "how was your day?"
That got a smile out of the elder man as she left his arms to find the bottle opener.
"Well, you were right, my assistant thinks Mister Olsen and I are passing a prostitute back and forth." He admitted. "Honestly she seemed disgusted by the whole situation." Finch sighed a moment while Harbor uncorked the wine. "Mister Reese is also now aware of what transpired earlier today-"
"Oh, that's why Sameen has been blowing up my phone with strange and thinly veiled threats towards you."
The eunuch comment of Mister Reese returned to Harold then but he tried not think about it, though his eye did twitch. Also, on a less violent note, should Harold have been concerned at how easy they found it to be domestic?
Harbor turned from the open wine bottle only to chuckle at his puzzlement.
"I think they've been waiting for this to happen."
Finch nodded as best the pins in his neck would allow. "Mister Reese certainly has."
Harbor hopped up onto the island beside the food and nudged him towards her with bare feet; Finch went willingly.
"You just know they'd made a bet."
Harold couldn't argue with that, he knew Shaw and Reese better than almost anyone else, a bet was totally the sort of thing they'd do. Although, instead of money changing hands a FN SCAR probably had. He stoped himself getting lost in his thoughts again when Harbor pressed a kiss to his forehead then went in search of bowls and chopsticks. Finch had missed such domestic moments. They'd had dinner before but she'd not been his girlfriend back then … and damn wasn't that going to take some getting used to.
"I thought we could watch Casablanca." She told him when she returned with bowls. Finch raised a questioning eyebrow. "From what I've deduced of you I'm pretty sure you don't watch much TV but I assumed you'd like the classics."
"To say you know nothing about me you know a lot about me." Said the billionaire with a twitch of a smile.
The raven-haired beauty didn't miss a beat while she unpacked the bag of food and he got the wine glasses.
"I don't need to know details, my dear walking question mark, I know you."
Finch's heart warmed by that sweet comment. She'd split him into two boxes as was her compartmentalizing way. The details, the dates and names, childhood pets and occupations that people thought were what made a person. Then there was the 'him' box, the favorite colors and books, which side of the bed he preferred and how long he could last before having to point out to an idiot that the word was 'specifically' and not 'pacifically' because that was an ocean. Most people didn't seem to realize or care that knowing details about a person didn't necessarily mean one knew said person.
Harold just had to stare at her for a few seconds. Oh how different his life would have been had he known her back at MIT.
"You honestly are the most unique woman I have ever met."
"Is that good or bad?"
Having poured the wine he left the glasses forgotten on the kitchen island and limped the short distance to her side where he cupped her cheek softly.
"Oh, it is most certainly a good thing, darling girl." He cleared his throat. "Now, the food is getting cold and we can't have that."
With their attention firmly back on their dinner but Harbor grinned when he opened the largest tub of soup he'd ever purchased.
"You brought Tom Yum Goong?"
Finch grinned at the way her face lit up. "You're not the only one who notices things."
It had been fairly obvious to Harold very early on that Harbor adored spicy food, probably would have drunk Tabasco if it had been socially acceptable or even remotely medically backed. Her favorite color was blue, she worshipped the ground Richard Kruspe walked on, had an unhealthy obsession with Alan Tudyk, would sell her liver if it meant she could touch Jeremy Renner, would kill a man before she let them put milk or cream in her coffee and despised, despised, the beech. Of all the bits and pieces he's learnt about Harbor though, the fact that Tom Yum Goong was her favorite food had so far been the only useful piece of information he'd been able to pick up on.
The pair sat down together and Harbor turned on the movie so they could eat happily together and sip their wine. Finch had almost forgotten how nice it was to just sit and be with someone, no lying about who he was because … he was her boyfriend; no matter how strange that word seemed at his time of life. Frankly 'boyfriend' would be harder to get used to than 'girlfriend' and he wasn't a hundred percent sure why.
About half way through the film she snuggled up to him, Harbor's legs tucked under herself and her head on his shoulder. Then five minutes later she was kissing at his neck and unbuckling his belt with nimble fingers. Harold gasped when she slipped her hand inside to cup his quickly hardening length. Soon her soft lips found his and the movie went on forgotten when she tugged him off towards her bedroom.
Instead of pushing him down like she probably wanted to Harbor calmly crawled into the bed, where she made sure to give him a perfect view of her backside in those little shorts then peered at him seductively.
"Come play with me?"
Harold seriously doubted any man alive could have resisted her … well, any straight man at least. He'd seen the way she'd smiled at Malcolm Olsen, it was fake but the one she gave him was real, it reached her eyes and made them twinkle.
Harold stripped off his suit jacket and waistcoat where they fell easily to the floor. He couldn't slide onto the bed, crawl over her and pin her down, his body wouldn't allow it no matter how much he wanted to, Harbor didn't mind though. Once he'd sat down on the bed she started to pull his tie free and tossed it behind her like an after thought before she went back for his shirt buttons. When their lips locked again it became a free-for-all to get one another's clothes off.
Somehow she ended up on her stomach with the elder man over her kissing down her porcelain back. His neck complained but Finch ignored it because it was as close to the position he'd wanted as his body was ever likely to get. Harbor pushed her backside up against his hard member and Harold groaned. Finch wasn't normally a domineering man, he didn't force others to his will if he could help it, but with Harbor he found his animalistic side came out quite happily … and she seemed to like it. With the pleasure and want having shut off his pain receptors for a while Finch gripped Harbor by the hips and tugged her up onto her knees and elbows. Gods she was perfect. His fingers found her wet heat with ease and worked her open as mews and pants escaped her. His neck, hip and leg would scream at him in the morning but Harold honestly couldn't have cared less with this goddess of a woman splayed out before him.
"Hank, please." She breathed. "Stop tormenting me and just fuck me." She cried out and he clamped his jaw down on her shoulder as an inner wolf he'd not known about came out.
Harold's fingers left her wet core but Harbor didn't have to mourn him long as he filled her suddenly with his hardened length. Christ, what had he done to deserve this woman?
The green-eyed angel panted and moaned his name beneath him, such perfect sounds that Finch would have been happy to die listening to. When he found that sweet spot Harbor gasped and bucked her hips back against him in surprise which got a needy grunt from the elder man as his thrusts shifted to something slightly more erratic.
"Harder, Harold, please, harder."
How could he deny her as he sucked a purple bruise where he'd bitten her; Harbor's walls quivered around him at the pang of pain. That was another thing he'd noticed about her, tender and gentle was all well and good but deep down Harbor preferred sex to be something a little rougher; than was how he ended up with a hand in her hair so he could tug her backwards for a kiss. Finch continued to gently lick the new marks on her shoulder as he reached a hand under her perfect body in order to stroke her clit. She immediately gasped and her hips bucked into his touch. He rubbed and lightly pinch the little nub despite the voice at the very back of his brain screaming at him to take the weight off his bad leg and stop arching his neck. No, Harold put up with pain every single day for little more than getting a morning cup of tea, he's sure as fuck put up with it to be with Harbor.
Finch could feel her legs trembling beneath them as they fought to keep her up; Harbor's elbows would give out soon he suspected. The large hand still tangled in her hair finally released and slipped down her milky skin so his fingers could trail over the inside of one of those perfect thighs which caused her walls to suddenly clamp down around him at the sensation and Harold could take it no longer. With a deep grunt that ended as a breathy moan his climax found him and he filled the perfect goddess beneath him. Harold's thrusts grew erratic and desperate as he desperately tried to prologue his orgasm but when Harbor's mews turned to wanton sounds of need he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. There is was having found his climax while his stunning girl still begged for her own. Not very gentlemanly.
Finch rocked up onto his haunches a moment and instantly regretted it, pain shot to a twelve on the old one to ten scale and Harbor noticed instantly because instead of moaning into the mattress she was suddenly on her knees with a hand cupping his cheek.
"Are you alright, Hank?"
He looked at her then, once he'd shifted position, her hair was a mess where he'd pulled on it and need still sparkled in her green eyes. He adored how sweet and kind Harbor was, a truly good person to prove to him they still existed despite all the horrors and atrocities he'd seen in his life.
Harold couldn't leave her unsatisfied though, he just wouldn't. His blue orbs flicked down her smooth body, past her supple breasts, flat stomach to her wet core between those firm thighs. He longed to push her back down and ravish her but his body wasn't capable of more, not that night. An idea struck him then and one of those naughty, knowing smiles settled on his lips. Harbor eyed him suspiciously as he went to lie on his back then tugged her by the hand so she'd straddle him. Without a single word he shuffled down until he was face to face with her sex and pressed his tongue to her.
"Fuck! Harold!" She groaned.
Finch coaxed her legs open a little more with his hands while he licked her, not at all caring if a bit of his own release dripped down onto his tongue. Soon she grew close and her hips bucked so Finch wrapped his arms around her thighs to keep her still while he drew every swear word and every pant he could out of her. Harbor's orgasm hit her like a freight train when Harold pressed his lips to her wet sex and sucked. Suddenly and without warning the escort's legs gave out but Harold carefully angled her so she fell softly beside him on the bed. For a moment she didn't speak, just lay there with her eyes closed and mouth open as she sucked in much needed air.
Harold wanted to roll onto his side but he'd not been able to sleep on his side since the bombing, instead he settled for snaking his right arm around Harbor and drew her to him; she went limply. Normally Harold hated the feeling of sweat on his skin, found it messy, uncomfortable and unhygienic but in that moment he couldn't have cared if someone had tarred and feathered him.
His eyes snapped down to Harbor when she chuckled quietly to herself.
"Embarrassing, isn't it." What was? What have I done? I thought you- "I'm an escort who completely forgot a condom. I should probably hand in my prostitute card now."
"I'm sorry-" Harold began, it had been just as much his fault, but Harbor cut him off as easily she had his thoughts.
"It's okay, Hank, I'm on the pill, I'm not angry with you." Harbor cuddled closer to his chest. "I'm an escort, Hank, sex gets boring for me sometimes, but that-" she gestured loosely to the bed area. "-that was some of the best sex I've ever had. Know why?"
Those perfect polished emeralds flashed up at him in the dark lit only by the moonlight that snuck in through the windows.
"No, why?"
Harbor smiled up at him softly, so young, so beautiful, so incredibly intelligent, and somehow so totally his.
"Because I don't love them." The twenty-three year old stretched up to kiss him, a kiss Harold gladly accepted. "I do love you though."
He beamed. "Fill you full of Thai food and you'll say anything, won't you."
That got a lyrical laugh out of Harbor. "You got me."
It didn't take long for Harbor to fall asleep in Finch's arms. As much as he wanted to drift off into slumber as well he couldn't stop himself just watching her. Her chest rose and fell softly, her cheek on his chest and a hand thrown over his stomach. Harbor was too good for him, Harold was convinced of that, he suspected she was too good for just about anyone. Still, the bespectacled genius would take whatever she was willing to give him. Maybe that was greedy, maybe not, Finch didn't know any longer and if he'd learned anything from Mister Reese it was that he needed to stop over-thinking every little thing. So Harold Finch wasn't going to think, he was just going to enjoy it for once.
XXXX
I'll level with you, I'm not quite sure how that turned into porn. This was originally going in a different direction.
