Disclaimer: Credit to Jonathan Nolan, Greg Plageman, and the POI writing team. Bolded sections are straight from the episodes.
QUEENSBRIDGE PARK
Chapter 36: after Brotherhood
Reese answers his phone as he watches over two kids, a brother and sister wanted by the Brotherhood gang for stealing their drug money. His temporary partner Agent Lennox, a DEA agent working the same case, had gone to do a sweep of their suroundings.
"What's up, Lionel?"
"Yeah, you can thank me with a prime rib, maybe some twice-baked potatoes."
"You placing a dinner order, or is there a reason for your call?" Reese asks.
"You know that septuple homicide you saddled me with? I got a lead off one of the cellphones. A number. Brotherhood banger called it from the scene of the crime."
"So?"
"So, didn't you want to have a chat with Dominic?" he demands, referring to the head of the Brotherhood. "This could be his number. But you'll only get to call it once."
"Better make that call then."
Fusco dials.
The phone the little girl had been playing with rings.
"Where'd you get that phone?" Reese demands.
"Agent Lennox gave it to me. Why?"
"Is there a problem, partner?" Fusco asks.
"Seems the DEA does have a mole working for the Brotherhood. Agent Lennox double-crossed us."
"I thought you said we were having dinner," Fusco complains later that night as they arrive at Reese's bare apartment.
"It's on its way," Reese says implacably, popping open a beer for himself and handing over a can of club soda to his partner.
"Not that I'm keeping track, but I did save your life today. That prime rib and potatoes we were talking about earlier sounds pretty good right about —"
Fusco falls silent as a knock sounds on the door. In quick, silent strides, Reese crosses the length of his apartment and puts a hand on the knob.
Elena's eyes widen slightly as she catches sight of the gun Reese is pointing at her from near his hip.
"I'm happy to see you, too," she says, slipping past him as he pokes his head into the hall to make sure everything is quiet.
"Wow, you look like you had a day," Fusco comments as Elena wearily tosses down her bag and perches herself on the sturdy little coffeetable currently serving as the third chair at Reese's tiny dining table.
"I'd like to see what you look like after doing a 16-hour shift during the store's end of the season sale," she says as Reese hands her a beer, one of those fruity ones she likes.
"This is what I look like after dealing with a septuple homicide," Fusco says, glaring at his partner, "and saving two kids and my partner from a gang."
Elena considers it. "Okay, that beats me. How about you, Detective Riley?"
"I babysat those two kids, who were wanted by a gang for stealing drug money, got double-crossed by a DEA agent, and was briefly kidnapped by the gang."
"Overachiever! And look at you, not a hair out of place —"
"I didn't realize this was a team-bonding exercise."
They all react as a fourth voice breaks into their conversation. Elena nearly falls off the coffeetable, Fusco is halfway toward reaching for his gun, and Reese already has his gun pointed at —
"Shaw," he acknowledges, tucking his gun away again.
"Geez, Sameen, give a girl a little warning," Elena huffs as she rights herself. "I should put a bell on you. Both of you," she adds, glancing at Reese.
Shaw smirks. "How was the beauty counter today, Cassidy?"
"Absolute hell. How was ... whatever you were doing, Sameen?"
"You mean kidnapping a gunshot wound victim from a crime scene and saving John's ass twice today?"
Reese glares as he collects the little tableware he has from a cupboard.
Elena throws her hands up. "Okay, you win. You all win."
"Peace offering." Shaw drops a large bag of takeout on the table and takes Reese's seat. "And I'll even swipe some more eyeliner for you during my next shift, Cassidy."
"Oh, the Lancome this time, please," Elena requests.
Fusco stares at them. "You do realize we're cops, right?"
"You're gonna arrest us for stealing eyeliner?" Shaw scoffs.
"Well, technically I haven't stolen anything," Elena points out.
"We should change that," Shaw suggests. "You need a rap sheet to keep hanging with us, Cassidy. Maybe that'll get Root to stop calling you 'Little Miss Normal'."
"I don't think stealing eyeliner, even designer eyeliner, is going to change her opinion of me."
"You wanna heist something bigger? That can be arranged." Shaw smirks up at Reese, baiting him, as he hands around the three plates he's managed to find.
"Nobody's heisting anything," Reese says, squeezing next to Elena on the coffeetable when Shaw doesn't give up his seat. "Tonight, anyway," he adds.
They dig into the meal, Elena and Reese half eating out of one of the containers and half sharing the third plate.
Fusco and Shaw glance at their easy arrangement. Fusco is torn between warning Elena off Wonderboy, and bemusement at seeing this new side to his partner. Shaw is torn between disgust at the cutseyness, and intrigue at how she can use this information to make Reese's life hell.
"So, double-crossed by the DEA agent, Reese?" Shaw asks. "Why, was she pretty?"
Reese blinks. "She was ... uh ..."
Elena hides a smile behind a spoonful of mashed potatoes as she turns inquiringly toward Fusco, who grins, thoroughly enjoying his partner's discomfort.
"I only saw her for a minute, but yeah, she definitely wasn't ugly. Tall. Power suit."
"Oh my, what a pair they must have made," Elena comments.
"I think you're forgetting the part where she was the bad guy?" reminds Reese, doling out a share of the creamed spinach for her. "She nearly got two kids killed."
"Well, yes, there is that," Elena concedes. "It's always the pretty ones, isn't it?"
After Fusco leaves, and Shaw seems to just vanish into thin air, Reese walks Elena down the hall to her apartment. As they approach, however, he throws out his arm, catching her across the chest.
"Oof! John, what —?"
His other hand is already reaching for his gun. "Stay here."
To his frustration, she follows him as he slowly moves toward her door and the package that's been left in front of it. He nudges it with his foot. He scans the hallway once more to make sure they're alone before he crouches down and gingerly shakes it.
"Were you expecting a package?" he asks Elena. "That would be left at your door instead of downstairs?"
"No," she says slowly. "But it could be a gift," she adds reluctantly.
"A gift?"
"It's ... my birthday today," she admits.
Reese looks up at her in surprise. "Your birthday?"
"Yes, normal people have those, you see," she teases.
"Why didn't you say anything?" he frowns. "Why didn't Lionel?"
"Lionel couldn't remember his wife's birthday, let alone their anniversary. Why do you think he's divorced?" She reaches over him to unlock her door. "Come on, SWAT, you can defuse my package inside."
Something's still troubling him about the fact that he had no inkling today was her birthday, worse that he had never even tried to find out when it was, but he follows her inside with the box. After a few minutes of careful inspection, which Elena watches from a relatively safe distance in the kitchen where he'd banished her, he deems it's safe to open the box.
He pushes aside clouds of tissue paper, unwrapping a —
"Oh, wow," Elena gasps as he pulls out a dress of the richest blue. It's similar in style to the dress she'd worn the night they went out to spy on Fusco's date, but it's clearly not from Target.
Reese is simultaneously thankful that Finch had remembered her birthday, irritated that he hadn't shared the information with him, and curious as to how much the dress had set back their now-limited funds. A bright idea strikes him.
"Hey, El, you wanna go —?"
"It's from Adam," she says in surprise, picking up a handwritten note folded at the bottom of the box. "So not only did he figure out where I live, but he also guessed my dress size correctly, and remembered my birthday," Elena notes. "What do you think, John? Should I be worried about him?"
"Saunders is a good guy," he admits. "But I think you should always be worried."
"Even when I have a big, scary neighbor who keeps the creeps at bay?" She sways in front of the mirror while holding the dress up to herself, and Reese feels a twinge of ... something. Jealousy? Guilt?
"It's all right, John," she says, again unsettling him with her uncanny ability to read his thoughts. "It's really not a big deal. I'm guessing Adam saw my birthday on Facebook. We just friended each other, you know. Besides, that's not really your thing."
"What's not?" he asks. It comes out more sharply than he intends.
"Sharing personal information," she says matter-of-factly. "I don't know your birthday. Hell, I don't even know your real name, Mr. Reese/Rooney/Riley -"
"May 4."
"What?"
"My birthday."
Her eyes widen before she smiles. "Star Wars Day? Ooh, right before Cinco de Mayo, too. I have some time to plan a party then," she teases. "Now," she carefully lays the dress out on her bed before returning and taking his arm. "I believe you were just about to take me out for birthday drinks."
