"I've been hurt so many times I thought I was numb, but you...you woke it up and then killed it. Now I hurt beyond belief. Then I find you getting attacked and I run to save you, why? Why didn't I leave you there? Drive on by; collect the pieces after... after you were dead."

John was stunned by such anger and cruelty falling from the meak and mild man's mouth,

"You don't mean that?" said John staying calm.

They were by the bed when Finch spun around. "Don't I? How do you know? You don't know me? …I thought I knew you."

This stung John, "I don't know you because you won't let me in, I'm your play thing. You send me out to do what you can't, and when it suits you and not me, you take me to bed."

"Play thing?"

"Yes."

Both were getting louder and louder.

"Like a cat, unfaithful and not loyal, sounds about right." Finch shouts.

"How am I unfaithful? All I do is serve you, do as you tell me, chase your fucking numbers, almost getting killed, and for what? To be told I'm not loyal and be shouted at?" John exclaimed.

"Five days, John..."

"Yes, five days spent getting beaten to join a gang, trying to save your fucking number. What was I supposed to fucking do?"

"How do I know that's true?" said Finch calming a little.

"Trust. If you trusted me you'd believe me."

Finch remained quiet.

"I couldn't contact you or I'd have been killed, end of story. I would have been dead and you'd have had no idea. I turned my cell on today as I'd sorted your number, and so you'd come find me, but they found my cell and that's why I was getting battered in the alley, happy now? Cause I'm not."

Finch looked at his feet.

"And you asked why I was crying too, well I thought I was gonna die, and all I could see was you; the only person I have and want. But why do I bother? I'm just your cat. You don't care for me; I'm just the body for the numbers and a cock when you want sex."

"No." shouted Finch.

"Not any, yes."

"No you're wrong."

"Am I? Then why do you clearly think I was off with someone else?"

"I...I..."

"Exactly, if you cared for me you'd trust me but you don't." he looked at Finch waiting for an answer, but nothing came. "Right fuck you." John said going to the bathroom to get his clothes. He had to leave; he couldn't look at Finch anymore. He felt such rage that he feared he would hurt him, and he couldn't do that.

"John... John please." Finch pleaded.

John gathered his clothes; he dropped his robe on the floor and quickly threw on his pants and shirt, then waked out almost bumping into Finch.

"John, please…"

"Please what? Stay? No way."

"Please..."

John walked past Finch and to the door. He turned the handle, but it wouldn't move so he tried again; it was electronically locked. He turned and saw Finch was by the bed, tears rolling down his face.

"Open the door." he demanded through gritted teeth.

"No." said Finch, his voice wavering.

"Why not?"

"I need you to... hear the truth." he said growing breathless.

"Which is what?"

"I need you."

"Oh really?" John asked; he was still skeptical.

"Yes, you're not just a body. I need you to feel alive and free. When I'm with you I'm not a crippled old, low life geek; I'm a person, I feel, I breathe. When you're not there I'm... dead."

"And what?" John said as he was slowly calming down, but still waited for it to escalate again.

"Does that mean nothing to you? Can't you hear what I'm saying? I'm letting you in."

"I hear you, but where do you think I've been?"

"Off with someone else…"

"Why would I do that? You're my boss, my friend; you even gave me a job and that's all I've fucking got on this earth, why would I go off? Huh? Tell me."

"Because I can't satisfy you." Finch blurted out and he slowly slid down the wall to the floor and curled into a ball again.

John ran to his side, confused by what Finch meant and suddenly needing him close again. He knelt down and ran his hands through the top of Finch's hair.

"Finch? Finch, look at me." he urged.

Finch moved a little and looked at John, "What do you mean you can't satisfy me?" John asked calmly and sensitively.

"Do you really need to ask?"

"Yes, tell me."

Finch took a deep breath, "Every time we...we...get together I always Finish before you, and you have to finish yourself. Every time and I know last time you woke early and left before I woke, then suddenly you go missing after I called you."

John pulled Finch's arms from his knees and cupped his cheek, "Finch, it doesn't matter that I have to do that; I could carry on till I cum, but I don't want to hurt you."

"It does matter."

"Each time you last longer, and in time you'll last."

"You don't know that, I'm older than you."

"And?"

"And I'm not as fit as I was, it may always be this way."

"I don't care. Now answer this, do you care for me?"

"Yes."

"Then that's all that matters. I'm sorry I scared you. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry for all this but I saved Catherine Bunn. I did as I was meant to."

Finch was quiet.

"Can you get me a tracker?"

"Sorry?" asked Finch screwing his face in confusion.

"Something I can wear or have that's a less obvious tracker. So you'll know where I am if my cells off or not with me."

"I could do that, but why?"

"So you can always find me."

"You'd do that?"

"Yes, I don't want to argue with you anymore, ever."

"Nor do I."

"I need you, Finch."

"I need you, John." Finch smiled, "May we lie down?" he asked.

"Yes, are you okay?" John asked concerned.

"My hips seized up."

"Stay still, I'll lift you." John crouched on his feet; knees bent and gently moved Finch around. "Put your arms around my neck." John instructed. Finch did as he was told. "Right on the count of three, I'll lift you up. One…two…" Finch braced himself, "Three." And John lifted him with ease. "That's it." he said and moved Finch to the bed. Slowly John laid him on the bed, but Finch didn't let go of his neck.

"Lay with me, please." whispered Finch.

"Okay." John said kneeling on the bed and easing himself on top of Finch. "You alright?"

"Oh yes."

"Good." whispered John. He looked down at Finch; he couldn't believe so much anger had just come out between them.

"Now are you okay?" asked Finch stroking John's cheek.

"I am now." He answered and rubbed his nose over Finch's giving him an Eskimo kiss. Finch moved and pulled him into his lips, "Sorry."

"It's forgiven."

"Is it?"

"For me it is."

"Good."

"Is it for you?"

"Yes."

"Good, now give me those lips." John smiled.