When John managed to get Harbor to the safehouse he found Harold was already there with Bear curled up at his feet while Finch tapped away on his laptop at the large dining table. As soon as his blue-eyes spotted Harbor he was up on his feet and fretting over her. Reese rolled his eyes; and he says he doesn't have feelings for the girl.
"Are you alright, Harbor, Darling?"
The raven-haired beauty nodded and pressed a kiss to his cheek, she was certainly nicer than most Numbers they encountered.
"I'm fine." She assured. "Looks like I'm taking a sabbatical though."
Harbor easily perched on the table and tickled Bear's ears when he came to say hello while Harold sat back down before his laptop. John had to admire the young woman, she wasn't prone to panic, took everything in her stride, he could see why Harold had been so taken with her.
"Finch, from what I could gather the gunman wasn't trained, not government or special forces, not so much as a uses a firing range on the weekends vibe from him." He said as he came to stand on the opposite side of the table, he nodded his thanks when Harbor handed him back his jacket.
Harold hummed. "Interesting. I can't find anyone who stands out as our potential perpetrators."
The escort raised a questioning eyebrow when she clocked what was on his laptop screen.
"You're in my cellphone?"
Finch flashed her an apologetic expression. "Forgive us breaching your privacy, but I needed to see this so I could assess who might be trying to kill you."
Both men watched as her face softened from irritation to understanding, she nodded to herself before speaking.
"And?"
Finch cleared his throat while John slipped his jacket back on and returned his weapon to its holster.
"I'm unfortunately slowed down since I'm having to go through everyone by hand. You have everyone saved under a nickname or a characteristic which – quite frankly – I'm not surprised about given your line of work. Again forgive us breaching your privacy, but I needed to do this. Friendly Giant, Mister Confidence, The Honest One." He muttered as he listed some of the nicknames.
"I can write them all down with their real names if it'll make things quicker. Anything I can do to help you, you know, keep me alive."
Harold nodded instantly and pushed a legal pad towards her with a pen atop it. "Thank you, Harbor, that would be most helpful."
She wasted no time in grabbing the pen and jotting her clients down from memory – that wonderfully unique memory.
"I'm afraid most of them aren't all that exciting as day-to-day people, most are businessmen and such." She told him without taking her polished emeralds from the legal pad.
"I'll confirm all of that." Finch replied. "I the meantime you'll stay her where you're safe."
Harbor nodded in agreement. "Em, weird question for the situation and all, but is there a shower."
Reese raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I smell of daddy issues."
John smirked at that but still clocked that momentary pang of jealously in Harold's eyes before the elder man got his mask back on.
"Yes, there is." Said Finch after he'd cleared his throat. "Down the hall on your right, third door down."
With a quick 'thank you' the twenty-two year old vanished off in search of the bathroom. Reese just continued to smile across the table at his friend.
"You picked one hell of a girl, Finch. You're girl's a strong one."
"She's not my girl, Mister Reese." Harold said a little too quickly as he tried to brush off the insinuation and got back to work.
Reese shook his head as he pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, stuck his feet up on the table and everything. Harold huffed, always hated it when John put his dirty feet on the furniture.
"You found anything yet, Finch? Anything to give us an idea what the fuck is happening here?"
Harold stayed hushed a moment while his blue-eyes scanned back and forth as he read, Reese debated asking again but Harold finally piped up.
"Harbor is most likely correct." He said as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. "Businessmen who only have arrest records from when they were in college and a couple of speeding tickets here and there."
"Well, keep looking, Finch, something has to be going on. Maybe a wife found out she's sleeping with her husband."
"Oh, I don't think that would lead to murder, a divorce yes, but murder?"
Reese just shrugged. "Never underestimate how people will react, Finch. I've learnt two things in my life; one, people will often choose murder over the longer, legal option."
"And the second?" Enquired the genius.
"Always trust scrawled messages, scrawlers don't lie." A quietude lingered between them for a short time as Reese reloaded his weapon and Finch sifted through the data on Harbor's phone until John finally broke it again. "She is the first one to ask for a shower though. I'd expected her to freak out like most of the others."
Harold spoke without taking his blue-eyes from his laptop. "Harbor's mind is distinctive, Mister Reese. Photographic. Her father was a marine, she's also an escort so it's likely Harbor has probably gotten used to the idea that she could be in danger some day." However, Harold doubted she'd expected danger to come quite like this.
"Okay, so I think I can rule out Anthony O'Neill, his wife served him with divorce papers four months ago. If he wanted Harbor dead he'd have done it before the wife found out about the prostitutes. Same goes for George Cole, he's not been in the country for almost a month and Harbor has him scheduled for the day he returns. Isaac MacFarlane seems unlikely as well, he's a trust fund baby and doesn't seem to care who he's seen with."
John nodded as he digested the information. "Okay, well it narrows it down a little but. Better than nothing, I guess."
"Give me some time, I'll find out who."
Reese stood and pushed the chair back in. He wasn't stupid, he knew Harold's words had been a promise; Harold could deny it all he wanted but John knew he cared about this girl.
"I'm going to head back to Harbor's apartment, see what I can find out. Maybe get us some fresh leads."
Harold nodded. "Good idea, Mister Reese. "I'll keep at it here and when Harbor gets out of the shower I'll see if she can think of anything to help." Reese didn't speak, just headed off out the safehouse although he only got a few steps before his boss brought him virbally to a stand still again. "Em, Mister Reece, while you're there – and if you don't find unsavoury characters there – would you please get Harbor some clothes? I don't think such high heels and a pink dress are going to be the best choice should we she be located."
John sighed childishly … well, as childishly as a man like John Reese could. "I'm not a valet, Harold."
Finch gave a little shrug. "Pretend you are?"
The taller man said nothing just left, the sound of the safehouse door closing and locking behind him was Finch's only indication John had ever been there.
Meanwhile Harbor listened to the door close from the bathroom over the sound of running water. She'd just been standing there under the spray in silence, naked as the day she was born. With a deep breath she slipped down the cold tile and onto the shower floor where she pulled her legs up and cuddled herself as she shook. Harbor's job was assess what men wanted and find the best way to give it to them, to act and pretend. So she'd pretended when Mister Reese had pulled her out of her apartment building, he'd not needed nor wanted some scared little girl stumbling along in her shoes, so she'd played strong young woman. The unafraid whore. It had all been a lie though. Harbor's father had taught her how to protect herself, how to use a gun and yet there she was sitting on the floor of a ridiculously large shower, shaking as warm water rolled over her; didn't exactly look like Sebastian Caldwell's daughter.
The hot water washed away her make-up to reveal the girl underneath, a young woman all alone in the world. Her vision blurred as water seeped over her face but she hardly blinked, just focused on trying to get her breathing under control. Then it suddenly hit her, full force and had Harbor raking a hand over her face and blinking rapidly. Harbor wasn't alone, if she was alone in the world she'd have most likely been dead not taking a shower. Out in that apartment at his laptop was Harold. The walking mystery. He was there for her and so was his friend, John. They helped people. When she'd said that she'd just been keeping up an act for Reese she'd been right but maybe it didn't need to be an act. They were there for her, they'd fix whatever this craziness was, they'd save her.
Slowly Harbor finished up in the shower and found herself a fluffy robe hung on the back of the bathroom door once she'd dried herself off. She slipped it on and tied it but left her clothes behind save for her underwear which she slipped on easily.
After a calming breath she made her way back to Harold and sure enough he, nor Bear, appeared to have moved so much as an inch.
"How's it going?" She asked and Harold looked up.
Harbor's hair was still damp and her make up was gone, Harold couldn't help thinking she was even more beautiful without it. Finch cleared his throat and tried not to appear as though he was checking a Number out, he was supposed to be protecting her. Blue-eyes watched as she rounded the large dining table and sat herself on the table to the side of his laptop. Harold could see her legs, so smooth and perfect as they slipped out of the fluffy robe where her legs crossed.
"I haven't come across anything definitive yet, no." He told her honestly.
"Why would anyone want me dead? I'm just a whore."
Finch moved to look at her fully. "Why do you call yourself that? Yes, you work as an escort but you are not ... a whore. There is a difference, maybe not in dictionary definition but in actuality there certainly is." Harold hadn't meant to sound quite so forceful.
Harbor smiles at him and rested a hand on his shoulder softly. "Sometimes I forget that, but being a whore isn't a bad thing, Harold."
"Maybe not but it doesn't seem to have worked out too wonderfully for you as of late."
The prostitute shrugged. "Fortunately I have my knight in bespoke suit."
Finch found himself forcing his attention back to the subject at hand before he got down the rabbit hole of why Harbor smiled at him so brightly.
"Are there any people – they don't have to be clients – that you can think of who could be responsible for trying to kill you?"
"You and John but I doubt it was you in that mask, I know you when I see you." She tried to think of someone she really did, wanted to help him as best she could but she made a point of staying out of her clients' personal lives and professions; she wasn't there for that. "I'm sorry, I don't know. I don't really have any friends so they're not going to try and kill me and I though all my clients liked me until a few hours ago."
Harbor watched as Harold typed and searched through her list over and over again looking for anything to answer their questions but it didn't happen. Finch couldn't find anyone who'd want her dead. No one seemed like a loose cannon or had a quick to violence spouse.
"I make sure to vet my clients before I accept seeing them, I have done since I started working for myself. There are a few left over from when I worked at The Coronet Hotel for Fowler's ring but most I found for myself. I tell you now it's not Richard Van Dune, other than you he's the sweetest man I've ever met."
"I already ruled your Friendly Giant out, he's been in Tewksbury all day visiting his sister and her family."
Harbor breathed out a sigh of relief at that, Richard was such a kind man, he'd not be capable of doing something like this.
The safehouse door opened and closed loudly then and Reese returned to the room where he dumped a large, stuffed bag on the table.
"That was remarkably fast, Mister Reese." Said Harold with a little surprise.
"I work quickly." The tall man responded gruffly, clearly he'd not been all that happy to go through the content of Harbor's closet.
"Are these my clothes?" Harbor asked as she fully unzipped the bag with mild irritation.
"You're welcome. Go get dressed."
The raven-hair beauty didn't say a word, just hopped down from the table – careful to avoid Bear who still lay spread out on the floor – and grabbed the bag before she returned to the bathroom. Once alone again Harold and Reese turned their attention back to one another and their work.
"Did you find anything?"
John shook his head with a sigh. "Nah. The place has been turned over but it doesn't look like anything is actually gone. It's strange, Finch, like these people don't really know what they're doing. It all seemed panicked."
Harold shrugged slightly. "Well, not every threat comes from someone as heavily trained as yourself, Mister Reece."
Reese didn't seem convinced as he raked a hand through his salt and pepper locks. "Hmm, something about this is off, Finch"
John slumped down into the same chair as before and smiled when Bear hopped up in search of snuggles and attention that he quickly got. They noticed Harbor then and two sets of eyes watched as she went to sit on a chair beside Harold. She'd obviously not got any make up on any longer but even Reese had to admire her enchanting features; a real belle. Big eyes, full lips, Finch had outdone himself. Reese had just shoved an oversized t-shirt with something in German written out on it and a pair of black wash jeans.
"Harold Finch." She said to test out the name. "Hank Finch. I like it better than Dove." Harbor chuckled. "You like bird names, don't you."
The Man in the Suit let out a deep hum of agreement then. "Been wondering about that myself."
Reese's comment ignored, Finch's attention was too focused on Harbor.
"You prefer Finch?"
The elder man nodded. "I do, yes."
"Then Hank Finch it is."
"Not to kill the mood," began Reese sensing they were headed down a tangent, "but someone is trying to kill you and we should probably focus on that."
Harbor sighed and looked off at the ground for a while. Harold knew that look, it was the far off expression she got when raking through her photograph memory for something – sort of like a Rolodex – though he suspected she was going through the list of everyone she'd ever slept with. The look of irritation sealed it, she'd got no idea who'd do this.
"I don't know who or why. I'm an escort, I have one job and I don't – oh my god!"
Realization dawned on Harbor and she felt back in her chair, slumped, leaving Finch and John to just stare at her wide eyes with matching questioning expressions. They gave her a moment before Reese cleared his throat.
"Going to tell us?" He demanded a little more roughly than intended wich got him a sharp glare from Harold.
"Please explain, Harbor."
She didn't look at them, just stared off as if watching something in her mind rather than the real world.
"Craig Weatherly. He's down as Tech Boy on my phone. He works for some tech firm, he's not overly high up and I don't think he's all that smart to be honest. Sometimes he'll send his assistant on these really long lunches, he does it so he can see me. Obviously his assistant wasn't there so I just walk right into his office. He was using his laptop."
"And you saw the image." Harold finished for her only to get a nod.
"Yes, only for a split second but I saw it. Two days ago I saw him again, we were laughing and joking about something and I told him about my memory thing. That I can't forget. See it once, remember it forever. He got quiet after that and I couldn't get him out of it no matter what I tried, it was weird. He's usually really easy to bolster."
John already didn't like this Weatherly guy, frankly he sounded like a total dick.
"What did you see?" Harold pushed softly.
"Some sort of code that I didn't understand, I'm not even sure it's important. It was just a black background and endless lines of code. I thought it was for his work."
Quickly Harold shoved the legal pad and pen back towards her.
Reese raised an eyebrow. "You expect her to remember a million random letters and backslash?"
"I told you, Mister Reese, Harbor's mind is photographic."
Harbor took the pen quickly and started to carefully copy it all down from memory; monumentally impressive.
"Will you be able to figure out what the code is?" Reese shook his head like he was being an idiot. "Stupid question, of course you will."
"Once Harbor has finished writing it out I'll be able to examine it and should be able to decipher what it was intend to do. It must be very important if he's willing to try and kill Harbor just for seeing a fraction of it."
Seemingly satisfied with Finch's answer Reese turned to face Harbor as her hand jotted down code quickly.
"How would Weatherly know where you live?"
She shrugged but didn't look up from her task. "I haven't got a clue, maybe he followed me."
John watched as her writing grew faster and faster until, eventually, it was all down and she pushed it towards Harold like a child showing a teacher. He took up the legal pad and started to read, his blue orbs flicked back and forth behind his glasses while the others waited.
"Oh dear." Well that didn't bode well. "I can't be sure until I run it through a few programs to check, but I'd say that this is part of a virus that can install a back door onto government servers remotely. If it is then it's certainly something one would kill to keep hidden."
Reese leant forwards. "I want to go check out this Weatherly guy. Now."
Harold kit a few keys as he searched for Craig Weatherly.
"Craig Augustus Weatherly, forty-three years old, never been married and no kids. Lives in Yorkville."
"Yeah, yeah, text me his address, I'm going to have a little look around."
"Very well." A few more key hits. "I have access to the security cameras on the roof of the building across from his office, he's still in there."
Reese was gone then and Harold found himself alone with a now fully dressed Harbor Caldwell.
She watched quietly as he worked on the code Harbor had supplied him with, her head tilted to the side slightly as she smiled at the elder man. After a while he noticed her eyes on him.
"What?" He enquired finding her soft smile infectious.
"You're cute when you work."
He seemed a little taken aback. "I've never been called 'cute' before."
"Well, now you have."
She forced her way into his lap then, straddled his suit clad thighs and loosely wrapped her arms around his neck. Harbor wasn't trying to seduce him, just wanted to be close.
"Now probably isn't the best time, Harbor, Darling." He told her, the entire time his hands rested on her hips and his eyes raked over her lips.
"I know, I'm not making a move."
Harbor kissed him then, light and chaste, before she cuddled into his chest. She stayed there like that for a long time, didn't speak just cuddled him happily. Harold could have gone back to work if he'd wanted and he did for a while, but eventually his arms wrapped around her and he held Harbor close sensing she needed comfort.
"I like it when you hold me." She said against his neck. "Makes me feel safe."
Finch was surprised at that and raised an incredulous eyebrow behind his glasses. "If you get that just from me we should ask Mister Reece to give you a hug." He teased.
Harbor shook her head, her raven-hair was still a bit wet. "No, I'd prefer you. Can you still work around me okay?"
"Of course, Darling." He already had been doing.
Before Finch even knew what he'd done he'd pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. The act had hurt his neck a little with the strain but the pain hardly bothered him. Instead of thinking too much about said forehead kiss Harold returned to his work while the twenty-two year old continued to find comfort in his touch. After a time her hands slipped from around his neck and instead to clutch the lapels of his gray waistcoat; to an outsider it would look like a father with a young child who'd nodded off. He could smell her, so sweet and perfect and freshly clean. What him mentally purring though was the shampoo she smelt of, it was his, he'd been known to shower at the safehouse sometimes so the only toiletries there were Harold's own; she'd even been in his robe earlier. He couldn't let himself get distracted by her though, he had things to do.
Harbor had actually fallen asleep when suddenly she heard the elder man call out 'eureka' loudly, it hadn't been a shout but it had certainly sounded loud with her being so close. Harbor's head jolted up.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."
Finch didn't seem all that concerned. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Harbor shifted to sit in his lap rather than straddle him, she'd started to cease up. "I figured out where this came from, there's always a signature, but the way this was written was a bit unusual. I think it's Chinese. Mister Weatherly is doing something very, very illegal."
"What is it?" She enquired as her head turned to face the screen of his laptop.
"The company Weatherly works for is Athantex and they have a contract to produce servers for military use. If he works for the Chinese then he would be in a fantastic position to put this virus on the servers, it could then lay dormant until the servers had been installed after which the Chinese could remotely access it and infect the other servers in the farm."
"I don't really understand all that but it sounds bad."
Harold flashed her an expression that said 'no shit'. "Very bad, Harbor. If he's working for the Chinese then he'll be permanently on thin ice and if you've seen this then you could be the thing that gets him locked up for a really long time."
"But why would he do this? I always thought he was an asshole but I honestly didn't think Craig was smart enough for something like this."
"I did some more digging while you were asleep and it turns out he has a rather large gambling debt. It's possible that a Chinese agent learnt about this and his position at Athantex and used it to their advantage, it's what I would do in their position."
"And yet he still paid for me?"
Harold didn't appear overly surprised. "Not to attack my own gender but ... he is a man."
She seemed satisfied with that answer.
"Does your friend know?" She asked in that lyrical voice of hers.
"Not yet, I was just about to contact him when I accidentally woke you." She watched as he opened a line to Reese and started to fill him in. "Mister Reese, I think I've figured out how all of this fits together. Weatherly is in bed with the Chinese."
"Fucking perfect." Came Reese's sighed reply through the earpiece.
"I don't think the Chinese are aware of the fact Harbor has seen a fragment of the code, that would explain why you believed this murder attempt to be so amateur."
"Oh, I don't think he'll be a problem. You looked at that camera you have on Weatherly's office recently?"
"Em, no, I've been working on the code."
Harold quickly brought up the security camera footage to find Reese waving at the camera from inside Craig Weathery's office.
"Mister Reese, what did you do?"
"Well I found nothing at his place so I came here for a look around – really easy to get in here by the way, you'd be proud – and it looks like he's sent his assistant of for the day so I couldn't resist just walking on in. Fucking idiot just had a Glock and a ski mask sat on his coffee table."
Harold rolled his eyes. "And where, pray tell, is Mister Weatherly now?"
"He came back from his lunch break so I had to knock him out. He's on the floor behind the desk." Replied John.
Sure enough, when Harold peered closer at the camera footage he could see feet sticking out from the other side of the desk.
"Asshole spat on me. Can you believe that?!"
"I'll have all our findings as well as a copy of the computer virus sent to Detective Carter, if Mister Weatherly is unconscious he's not going anywhere and she'll be able to handle things from here. Thank you, Mister Reese."
"Is that it? Asked Harbor once Finch had closed his line to John. "Am I safe now? A couple hours and I'm all good to go home?"
He smiled. "I'm sorry if you feel deprived of action, our perpetrators are usually more accomplished, then again maybe it's a good thing he isn't. Normally Mister Reese ends up shooting someone despite me not being fond of that. I don't want you going back to your apartment though, Mister Weatherly might have been trying to fix his mistake quietly but if the Chinese have gotten wind of your involvement you could still be in danger."
Harbor peered up at him with polished emeralds. "Then where am I supposed to go?"
That was a good question. "I'll make a reservation for you at a hotel."
Probably the one he owned where Harold had done a deep background check on every member of staff and Miss Brozi ran a tight ship. He flashed a smile when she stretched up and kissed his cheek.
"Thank you, Hank."
Finch shrugged it off. "It's what we do."
Bear barked then clearly feeling left out of the conversation and Harbor chuckled.
"Yes, thank you too, Teddy Bear."
She really just can't stop giving things nicknames, can she, muttered Harold's mind quietly.
It didn't take long for Harold to get Harbor a room at The Cornet Hotel and as soon as he'd packed away his things and Harbor had grabbed the bag that Reese had brought her, they headed over to the hotel. Harold made sure to get her situated quickly, Harbor wasn't in hiding but he didn't want her lingering around on the street too long.
Finch did a quick check for bugs but that was more for Harold's paranoia than Harbor's protection. When he was finished he went to stand before her and tossed his things back into his bag; he'd not found anything.
Those green-eyes sparkled. Harbor grabbed him by the lapels and rose up on her tip-toes to kiss his thin lips, deep and passionate. A kiss that came with the promise of realness, a primal desire that ignited every time Harbor's lips met Harold's. Her scent flooded his senses as their foreheads touched between kisses and Finch couldn't fight the thoughts that shot through his damaged body. He could feel her smiling into the kiss. Automatically his arms snaked around her slender waist as if they belonged there.
"My big brave hero needs a reward, I think."
Harold tried to assure her that there wasn't any need, he and Reese didn't help her to gain favors, Harold didn't want her feeling obligated. He even went so far as to pusher her gently away but it didn't work, his heart wasn't really in it. The only hint of his reluctance as she softly pushed him to sit on the bed was a tiny voice in the back of his head, however, that voice hadn't won once yet and this time didn't look good either.
"Hank, shut up. We've had this conversation and I'm not on the clock when I'm with you."
When her nimble fingers clicked open his belt Harold made a decision, a decision to shut off his brain and just let it happen. He wanted it and so did Harbor. Every time they'd been together he'd over-thought it rather than just shutting off his brain. So he did, for once Harold would shut of his paranoia, his constant worry about everything and push the weight off his shoulders for a while, and just be with this goddess of a woman.
It turned out to be the best decision of his life. He'd not been so happy and relaxed since he was a child. His calloused fingers across her hot skin, the stunning porcelain punctuated by little bruises and nips that he trailed down her neck. Her moans and mews, so perfect.
Afterwards was much like the second time, he lay there on his back with Harbor at his side who had her head on his chest and an arm thrown over him. Harold hadn't been able to help looping an arm around her side to keep her close.
"Will you stay?" She asked softly.
So many questions and thoughts flooded into his mind; why? I have to get back to the Library. Wouldn't you be happier snuggled up with this big bed to yourself? To name a few. None of those left his brain though.
"Alright." He agreed instead.
Yes, he shouldn't stay but Finch loved just lying quietly with Harbor. He didn't want to get up and go back to the trials and tribulations of his day-to-day life. So he didn't.
Didn't take long for his mind to fill with thoughts of Grace, he'd left her, he'd hurt her and … no, not time to think of that. Finch turned his attention back down to Harbor and smiled. He'd done what he had to protect Grace and he'd done what he'd had to in order to protect Harbor. Maybe Reese had been right and it didn't need to end the same way. Harold liked this young woman, and for once he was going to let himself enjoy it. What man in his right mind would ever turn down spending the night with such a beautiful and intelligent woman as Harbor Caldwell? Finch just tried to ignore that many probably wouldn't think him in his right mind.