A/N: I appreciate you all for hanging in there, I'm not done with this there's just a lot going on atm.

As always, enjoy x

Chapter 57: Malfeasance

Christmas Day, Sunday 25th December 2016, 5.12pm, Bay Ridge, Brooklyn

John couldn't help but feel bad that their first Christmas as a married couple wasn't spent under a mistletoe but in a Jeep under the street lights having an ethical debate up the street from Dr Lockett's condo. There wasn't time for Joss to read through the medical research so Shaw summarised the domino effect of treating her patient's H. Pylori infection with a placebo instead of antibiotics; Walter Reeves, 68, died after vomiting blood caused by his inflamed stomach ulcer which could have been avoided if he had proper treatment. "…And if someone wasn't trying to get famous curing cancer by causing it." Shaw's theory wasn't subtle and neither was Zoe's schmoozing of bespectacled friend. She figured if the Dutch sperm donor wasn't in the picture it seemed the next phase of Zoe's plan involved slotting Finch in instead, which was a recipe for disaster.

John wasn't convinced the doctor had caused the death alone. "I cracked Walter's safe; he consented to being part of her research. It's in writing."

Joss took a deep breath, though the information was new, she knew what she had to do next even if it meant ruining a family's Christmas. "The court would argue that Walter wasn't in his right state of mind when he signed, that he didn't know the full repercussions-"

"That he could die." Shaw interjected, finding her lawyer spiel a welcome alternative to Zoe and Finch's weirdly-normal bonding session over a Christmas tree.

"-And Dr Lockett withheld vital information about the risk a man in his late sixties was taking."

"What about his choice?" John asked. "To live or die; to take meds or die naturally."

Joss stuck to the facts, because she didn't like where the conversation was going and to her knowledge he was the only one in the car who had considered making that kind of decision in the past; specifically, on the day they met. "If so, physician-assisted suicide is still manslaughter in the state of New York. Not to mention medical malfeasance. I've gotta bring her in sooner or later, John. Look, I'll review the evidence and take her to the 68th Precinct so that should give you some time to leave Sunset Park Med before the cops come knocking." It was clear her choice was made, but it didn't sit right with him.

7.25pm, Evelyn's Condo, Williamsburg, Brooklyn

For as long as she could remember, Evelyn was a sucker for a forehead kiss; especially an unexpected one that made her sister walk away in jealousy and search the cupboards for more wine. Cammie had already chewed her out over Joss' sudden disappearance and John's beyond-late arrival but she bit down on her tongue long enough not to fire back because of the baby in the manger and counted down the rest of his birthday. "What was that for?" She asked, not that she needed a reason.

"For being nice." Gregory replied.

She blinked in response to what didn't sound like a compliment. "I'm always nice. Very nice."

A few hundred people along the East Coast would beg to differ but he wasn't the type to bring that up. "Aaaaaaaaand for not prodding Cammie about the engagement."

That stunned her almost speechless because it wasn't like Gregory – or anyone else – to be on the front foot when it came to family gossip; especially since she retired. "What?"

"Hamilton left a week ago," He explained. "He's engaged to his-"

"Hot-tailed floozie." Evelyn stated, tapping her fingernails on top of his piano in thought. Cammie always took out her pain on others and her snapping at the grandsons over 'all that X-box noise' was just the tip of the iceberg. There was only one kind of help she would accept. "We need more wine."

"Wine?" He repeated. "What about sympathy?"

Evelyn got her first laugh since her sister arrived. "That would humiliate her more than being dumped before Christmas. Trust me, I know my sister. Gotta keep her liquored up 'til New Year."

"And then?"

"Then she's TSA's problem."

He didn't know what to say; if this was their version of sisterhood, he had no choice than to roll with it. As odd as it was. "So…more wine?"

She smiled brightly. "Red and rosé."

8.14pm, Finch's Townhouse, Carnegie Hill, New York

It had been such a long time since Finch kissed a woman he underestimated how much he'd missed the feeling. The unplanned happening was meant to be a light peck of thanks between friends for making Christmas in the city less lonely, a pleasantry. What it became was an awakening of a need he thought had died along with his chance of being with Grace in this lifetime; company, namely female company. A French proverb came to mind: bon repas doit commencer par la faim, a good meal must start with hunger. And Harold Finch was long starved of affection so a kiss was a crumb; it would never satisfy him.

Zoe was drawn to him; her only friend, her listening ear, the other half of free-flowing conversation. In short, he was there for her and the idea of being there for him made sense somehow. So they tried the polite goodbye kiss again and this time it was wordless and lasted longer and felt less friendly. A lot less friendly.

9.01pm, Paul's House, Elmhurst, Queens

Even though 25 years had passed since Paul and his frat brothers last strutted around the Milton campus with their matching purple and white letters, he was still looking forward to butchering an old step and playing cards with one of his oldest friends and crashing out on the couch with Gina with empty red cups everywhere. But it didn't take much for his blood to boil when an attempt to quiet his girlfriend's annoying ringtone before the short drive to Tony's house led him to a call log going back a month between the woman he loved and the man he almost-hated. "Why?" was all he could ask because his heart was beating so fast he could feel the pounding in his ears.

"Because he's lonely. And he's still your father." Gina explained while she ran a tong down her hair in the bathroom mirror, grossly underestimating what it was doing to him.

He tried to remember how to breathe deeply. "You talk about me?" Her silence was his answer. "You talk about Taylor?"

"Sometimes." She replied, plucking a stray eyebrow hair.

Paul felt he had his father's intention figured out and didn't hesitate sharing what was on his mind. "He's playing you."

"Paul-"

"That's what he does. And you're going for it." Through a quick glance his way she saw his nostrils were flaring. So much for deep breathing. "So…what'd he say about the house?"

"There's a hold up with the sale, seems like some of the neighbours can't afford to move on what they're offering so it's being renegotiated."

"Mmm-hmm, and he's buttering you up for next year; so you can work on me and I can work on Taylor."

Gina felt her heart palpitating; she wasn't afraid of him but she couldn't forget the evening the man who couldn't watch combat scenes in movies anymore, firing a perfect shot almost at his father. "I'm just trying to do the right thing."

"Yeah? Well you're not." He rubbed her back and tried to explain why there was no chance for reconciliation. "Your dad was a good man, you had to reason to love him."

"Don't say that."

"I made the mistake of being Jeremy's son instead of Taylor's dad just one time and look where that got me. I can't do it. And in his own way, Taylor needs me. He finally needs me. Not in a 'look after him so the Feds can't get him' kinda way either. So no, there's not gonna be some Soul Food reunion with Jeremy. I missed 'cause I wanted to, Gina."

"So you're just gonna leave him like that? All alone in the house until he…"

He can hear his father in her question and knows it's not because she's stupid but because she's kind. "That's my mama's house; she's in every tile, every floorboard and every wall of that place. He's not getting his hands on it."

She remembered the two pairs of shoes she was deciding between were still on the bedroom floor. "I guess we're not going to Tony's tonight."

"Guess not."