Disclaimer: Credit to Jonathan Nolan, Greg Plageman, and the POI writing team. Bolded sections are straight from the episodes.


QUEENSBRIDGE PARK

Chapter 24: after Last Call


"My deepest thanks to both of you for a job well done," Finch tells Reese and Shaw as they leave the park where he'd just shown their latest Number, a 911 call operator, the boy she had helped save from a criminal mastermind known as the Voice.

"Well, not quite done," Shaw says. She pulls out the phones she'd taken from the Voice's hired help. "If you still want to find the guy, maybe these could help."

Finch untapes the two phones just as one of them begins to ring. He answers it.

"Hello."

"Finally. A chance to speak to the man who handed me my first defeat."

They trade warnings until the Voice hangs up and Finch quickly dismantles the phone.

"What did he say?" Reese asks.

Finch throws part of the phone into the trash.

"Nothing of any consequence," he says before walking away.

Shaw wanders off, too. Reese glances around the park, trying to spot anything or anyone suspicious.

Once he's sure his companions have gone their separate ways, he calls Elena.

Half a world away, Elena sees the name flashing across her screen, and it startles her enough that she stops dead in the middle of a crowded sidewalk in Rome.

And suddenly she's homesick for a city with a park where a man in a suit and his dog play fetch with a tennis ball.

She takes a deep breath and answers the call.

"Hi, John."

"Hi, Elena."

"A call instead of a text?" she muses. She frowns. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I ... just wanted to talk."

Her breath catches at the unexpected admission. And it takes her an extra moment to reply.

"It's nice to hear your voice, too, John."

"You busy?"

"No, just sightseeing, also known as trying not to get too lost."

"Where are you now?"

She tells him. He can picture the intersection. A few years back, he and Stanton had been holed up nearby on a job for two weeks.

"Do you want to have the best cacio e pepe you'll ever have in your life?"

"Yes, please."

He directs her to an out-of-the-way restaurant. Though the entrance looks questionable, the underground restaurant is bright and warm and homey.

"The owner's name is Maria. Tell her you know Gian. Call me when you're done."

As soon as Elena mentions Gian, she's treated like a long-lost family member. Maria takes her by the hand and seats her near the back, close to the kitchen, and introduces her to the rest of the staff.

"And how do you know Gian?" Maria asks.

"Oh, he's a ... friend," Elena flounders.

"A friend," Maria repeats, looking her up and down. "Yes, you'll do," she finally decides, and Elena swears it's just the heat from the kitchen making her cheeks turn red.

Over the next three hours, she's treated to a slightly bewildering odyssey of dishes, dessert, advice, and gossip that strain her conversational knowledge of Italian to its absolute limit.

It's dusk by the time she leaves, promising to return soon. She calls John as she heads back to her apartment.

"You're right, John. Best cacio e pepe a girl could ever have. Got any other insider tips?"

He's fairly familiar with her route back to her apartment, so he points out a couple of other places to check out the next time she goes back to Maria's.

"You know, if your current job doesn't work out, you should be a travel guide," Elena teases.

He amuses himself with the idea for a minute. They could open a travel agency. Between him and Shaw, they would have most of the world mapped out. Finch could handle logistics, tech support. Bear would be their mascot, naturally.

"I always wanted to have a job where I could travel the world," she continues.

Oh, the places he could show her.

Though ... the danger of running into a former adversary would be pretty high, he supposes. Still, it's a nice daydream.

"John?"

He blinks. "Yeah, still here."

"Thank you. That was the most fun I've had in a really long time." She laughs. "You sure know how to show a girl a good time, even from halfway around the world."

He suddenly feels the distance keenly. His phone beeps with an incoming call, and the distraction is both a disappointment and a bit of a relief.

"I've gotta go," he says. "Travel agency will have to wait. Current job calls."

"All right. Tell Sameen and Harold I said hi."

"And Bear?"

"That goes without saying. Tell him he's my best boy."

"Will do. Talk to you later, El."

"Ciao, Gian."