When they pulled up in front of a black gate she knew they weren't in Kansas anymore. Every place they passed by so far looked like a mansion or a mansion wannabe. The address adorning the stone pillar connected to the black gate was clearly residential; who the hell lived here? And how in the hell did her homeless man know him or her?
Joss glanced at John quickly as he pressed the intercom. "Are you some long loss son of some business mogul or something?" she demanded incredulously.
"No," came the short reply before a male voice came over the intercom asking their business. "Tell Mr. Finch that John is here to see him," John stated, sounding all businesslike.
It was quiet for a few minutes until the gates proceeded to open, on their own, slowly. Joss began feeling a little out of place and apprehensive of going in but John didn't seem to bat an eye. Whoever this 'Mr. Finch' guy was, John figured he would help them. She watched as they drove up the long drive as they passed tons of trees, old ones, the kind that took decades to mature, and were always the most beautiful as they offered beautiful foliage but also aided in seclusion. Clearly whoever the Mr. Finch guy was; he was a recluse and used the old trees as cover. As they drove further down the long spiraling paved drive the trees began thinning out until it opened up to a wide extensive green lawn with a large magnificent white, three-tiered stone fountain in front with water cascading down to pool into a pond. It was huge and welcoming; Joss almost had the sense to go sit on the white stone and just bask there. But it was a little too cool but also a little too inappropriate since this wasn't her home. As John drove closer she noticed the little cherubs under the top tier. And below that on the stem that disappeared into the glorious pond were carved flowers of varying sizes.
After finally being able to draw her gaze away from the beautiful fountain she looked up to see past the bright green lawn and flowers, and saw off in the distance was a luxurious white mansion. It had a red roof, black shutters, two gorgeous pillars bracketing the front door, and what appeared to be two separate garages surrounding the massive home. John pulled to a stop in the alcove behind a Mercedes leaving her to gape at the home in awe.
The mahogany double doors in front, behind the two white pillars, opened up and pretty red-headed woman bounded out with a small dog following in her wake. She was dressed in skintight jeans, a sweater, and a bright smile. Joss blinked because she sure wasn't the 'Mr. Finch' Joss was expecting. Joss climbed out of the car much slower than John did and watched with raised eyebrows as the redhead flung her arms around John the smile never fleeing her face.
"John! It's so good to see you!" she cried happily and the dog yapped with eagerness too.
Joss's eyes flew to John who returned the hug only looking a little uncomfortable at the affection but a smile was slowly growing on his handsome face. Foolish jealousy nipped at her heels that she had no right to feel. But if this woman cared so much about John then why was he on the streets, homeless, and close to killing himself?
The Wendy lookalike stepped back folding her arms across her stomach to keep warm, finally glancing to her, as if only then realizing he had brought a companion with him, and her blue eyes widened as she took in her very pregnant state, before looking back at John. "You are going to be a father? I'm going to be an Aunt!" she squealed and flung her arms around him again in excitement again. "I'm so happy you finally moved on from Jessica and with this beautiful woman too. I knew you'd find happiness I just knew it…"
"Grace," John growled before pushing free of her embrace. "This is Joss, she's in trouble, and the baby isn't mine," he stated darkly, uncomfortably.
Grace's smile faded as she searched John's face before pasting one back on as she looked to Joss. "Hi Joss, I'm Grace; let's head in so we can talk privately with Harold," she murmured, though the smile was a little dimmer than before, and didn't quite reach her sparkling blue eyes.
"Can you have someone pull our car around and hide it?" John asked.
Joss watched as a flash of uncertainly crept into the pretty redhead's eyes before she nodded. "Of course, I'll ask Leon to do it," she agreed before leading them into her home.
Joss walked beside John as they both followed Grace and the little dog into the extravagant home. Joss looked around awestruck by it. "Your home is beautiful," Joss replied after a while as they were led to a sitting room.
Grace smiled easily this time. "It's nice but huge. I think it's a bit much but Harold wanted us to have the security this place offered." she said and a shadow made some of the light her in her blue eyes fade, before she perked up. "I'm an artist and I got my own art studio too, and we have our own greenhouse so we can grow our own fruits and vegetables, so there are some perks."
"Perhaps you and Grace can go look at her artwork in a bit," John suggested, seeing an opportunity to receive much needed space from Joss. He hadn't spent so much time with one woman in such a long time and hadn't spent a night with one in even longer. It unnerved him that he and Joss were going to be spending several more together until this ordeal was over.
Joss immediately knew it was so he could speak to this Harold, alone, without her listening in. And as much as she hated it there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. "Sounds nice," Joss said with fake cheerfulness. Well, maybe it would be beneficial as it would give her the chance to talk to Grace and find out more about John from an unsuspecting source. Two could play cloak and dagger games.
The sound of hard heeled shoes hitting the wood floor at an uneven interval alerted them to another's presence. Grace smiled, John relaxed, and Joss was intrigued as they all looked at the door of the sitting room. In walked a short birdlike man with a larger nose, glasses, and reeked of money. He was wearing beige trousers, a buttoned down blue shirt, and had an open sweater on over it. The man looked like a professor or someone that just got back from the country club. However, he seemed friendly judging by the way he instantly smiled at John and included her in it as he glanced her way.
"Hello," he greeted her first. "I'm Harold Finch."
"Joss Carter," she offered as she tried to stand and he immediately moved close so she didn't have to. He took her hand in a warm shake before looking at John.
"It's nice to see you again, John." he murmured with much more warmth than the polite pleasantry she received. Joss stared expectantly at John to gauge his reaction to his friend.
"Likewise," John said, with no change to his voice, and his expression was shuddered, which gave her absolutely nothing to work with. She watched as John looked to Grace. "How about giving Joss that tour of your art studio?" he suggested.
Joss narrowed her eyes. "Yes, come along Grace, let's go so John can talk to Harold about my situation as though it doesn't pertain to me," she stated snappily.
Harold's lips twitched and amusement lit up in his blue eyes. John's look however wasn't nearly as amused as he glowered in response.
Watching the two try to out-scowl each other with neither backing down was better than watching any sports game, Grace thought. She gave into a small laugh, wondering who was fighting back the urge to stick their tongue out at the other. Grace moved to help Joss stand. "Come along Joss, let's let the men talk, and once they are done they can listen to the women who are smarter than them," she said coyly with a wink to John and Harold.
Joss gave John one last look before following Grace out without another word.
Harold watched the exchange without saying much but he was pleased. In one conversation he had seen more from John than he had ever. He watched his wife leave with the pretty black woman, who walked out with her head held high, and looked to John after the door closed. "Is there a reason you wanted to speak alone?" he murmured gently.
"Yes, I needed a break from her." John grumbled. He needed a break from her infuriating femininity that reminded him that he's still a man. It frustrated and confused him. Just last night, before Joss sat down next to him on that subway train, he was ready to end it. Where was that drive for eternal peace?—in place of it he kept thinking about protecting Joss and her baby. Damn it, he needed a drink but couldn't even do that because he needed his facilities sharp for her, just in case. Tension balled tight in his belly. Maybe he should pick up smoking until this was over.
"Miss Joss seems lovely," Harold murmured, trying to ease the darkening look on his friend's face, unsure of where his thoughts were heading. "Is the baby yours?"
"No." John stated relaxing somewhat now that he was focused on Joss's problem and not on the pregnant woman herself. "And she's in a fair amount of trouble."
"Ah," Harold sounded as he rounded the couch to pour some tea from the Sterling Silver kettle that sat resting on the wooden table in front of him.
John balked at the sound. "What does that mean?" he asked roughly.
"Just that it seems you always manage to help everyone else but yourself, that's all," Harold remarked casually, unperturbed by John's anger. Harold turned after he poured his tea and took a sip of the warm liquid. He smiled at the look on his friend's face.
He lowered himself awkwardly down as he was still healing even years after his incident. John sighed. "I didn't help you or Ingram much," he murmured.
Harold flinched a bit at the mention of Nathan, who was murdered three years ago, by the government, and he would have been too if it wasn't for John. After John spared his life he had also helped fake his death by taking required molars for proof of death to satisfy his superiors that the threat was eliminated. Missing his molars was a small price to pay for his life. The only thing John asked him to do for him was to stay in the shadows. No one could know that he was alive. And so he did. Harold had immediately made a fake identity for him and Grace, his fiancée at the time, now wife, and they lived in this mansion in seclusion. He did all his business by phone or email and lived a life of paranoia. Down beneath his home was where all the real work happened. He hacked into the government agencies without their knowledge to find out everything they didn't want the public to know. Besides that, he had wanted to keep tabs on John, the man who risked everything to save him, and try to help him in any way that he could.
"You helped more than you know," Harold finally said, drawing himself back from his reverie to the topic at hand. "And I'm thankful you finally decided to reach out," trying to keep from being accusatory but he was worried sick, as a father would of a wayward child.
It failed judging by the way John's hackles rose. "I was fine," he said bitterly.
"John, they wanted to kill you," he replied incredulously. Harold wouldn't apologize for being a friend and being worried. During one of his routine hacks into the CIA database he had learned about the plot to retire John. He had immediately called John on an untraceable line, to warn him but John downplayed it. And he hadn't been able to get a hold of his friend in months since, so the fact that John was here, in his home, relieved him.
"And I told you to stop hacking into the CIA," he reminded.
Harold ducked his head a bit. John had, out of protection, but Harold had anonymity with what he had done to make sure no one would ever be able to trace the hack back to him here. The government employed good hackers but he was better. "I'm glad I didn't. If I hadn't then I wouldn't have known about the danger to your life." Harold argued. "Did my warning help any?"
John shrugged. "Kara shot me. But thanks to your heads up I had a suspicion that Snow would go big or go home, so I got out of the building before they blew it up," he said, as if he was no big deal.
"They tried to blow you up!" Harold cried. Not that he mourned the loss of Kara Stanton but John…John was a good man. However the assignment happened in January and it was now mid-April. He needed to understand where John had been these last few months and why he hadn't reached out even knowing that he was worried sick about him. "Where did you go?" he asked. Though, he had a hunch that John learned of Jessica's death which could explain the unbearable pain in the cold blue eyes of his friend. But pain had been shrouding John for a very long time, Harold supposed. The more questions John had asked about the validity of what the agency he worked for the more he realized he had done bad things to good people.
"I patched myself up as much as I could and headed straight back for New York. To get to…" John said and stuttered to a stop.
It was left unspoken but Harold knew the rest of that. 'Back to New York and back to Jessica' but by then Jessica had been murdered by her abusive husband which Peter tried to make look like an accident. Harold had hacked into the morgue's records and saw some discrepancies from what the coroner ruled as cause of death. She had too many other injuries consistent of abuse. So Harold had tried to help John by giving an anonymous tip to police that her death was no accident and after further inspection Peter was arrested for murder.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to John.
John didn't like the look on Harold's face as it appeared to be pity. If only Harold knew he had been on his way to kill himself but one beautiful pregnant woman stopped him. "Can we just talk about Joss's problems and not mine?" he demanded.
"Sure," Harold assured easily, not taking offense. John was in mourning and needed a little time to grieve. "So please explain to me Miss Joss's dilemma."
AN: You'll learn more in the next chapter at how John became friends with Harold and Grace because the lovely ladies have a girl talk after being dismissed, which John will learn to never do again ;D
Thank you for reading!