"You think he's going to try to arrest the guy?"

Finch stirs his tea with precision, casting a thoughtful glance at the two photos taped once again side by side on the board before responding to Shaw. "The Machine wouldn't have given us his number unless he's planning some kind of violent act, or…

"Or Fusco's in danger from baldy here," finishes Reese.

Finch had called both former operatives back to the library upon the completion of his search into the significance of the photos found in Baldy's office. Field work is no longer needed as everything he wants to know can now be found in the digital ether.

It hadn't taken him long to discover the link between the photos: all but one were of women in financial straits after becoming victims of an on-line scam, and all but one of the women had filed police reports, though they must have known the chances of recovering their money to be slim to none.

A sad commentary on present society

It took even less effort to complete the puzzle. A serious invasion into their second Number's private data quickly put him on the accounting trail that led him to the con's real image, name, and address…and evidence of a particularly lucrative scam.

The last photo concerned him though, as it was not of a woman but a child. One they'd all recognized instantly: Detective Fusco's son. He'd quickly identified one of the women as the chubby cop's ex-wife, and also as the one woman who hadn't filed a scam report. No big stretch to assume she too had become a victim of Baldy's con…and called in her former spouse for help!

The big worry now is why the child is included in the collection. Several of the other women had children, none of them part of the photo series.
Is the boy somehow a target?

"If this guy found out that his latest victim was once married to a cop, he may be using the boy as a deterrent to her filing a regular police report…once she catches on to his game."

"I think you may be right, Mr. Reese," Finch responds. "And that would also explain why the Machine considers the detective's involvement as more than just an NYPD officer making an arrest. Detective Fusco is obviously connecting the dots and has been pursuing this man outside the confines of his normal role within the NYPD."

Finch glances again at the photo of the portly policeman. "If his son is being threatened, he may very likely resort to some violent act."

Shaw tightens her lips. She hadn't said a word while handing the photos to Finch and had continued to simply listen to the two men discuss the case until asking her one and only question. Knowing that the child she had saved from Simmons's goons several months ago could well be in danger again did not sit well.

If Baldy makes a move to harm the boy, she will provide a dirt bed for the man. And she'll bury him ass up so she'll have a place to park her bike!

"He's on the move Finch," Reese offers, checking his phone. "He may have found that address."

Finch puts his cup down with an audible clink. "Then it's time we also get going." And as one the trio turns toward the exit gate, Shaw stopping only long enough to pat Bear and whisper, "We'll be back soon. I'll bring you a treat…"

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''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

.

Here it is. Hopefully the right address for that scumbag! The old man hadn't given it up easy, but the appearance of a pair of cuffs and a gun had loosen his tongue enough to provide the cop with the name and address associated with the storage of the Bentley. The name is the one he's already got, but the address is different, so maybe he's finally run the guy to ground!

And now we're going to have a little "chat" with the perp and see what shakes loose!

It takes flashing his badge to get past the concierge, but eventually he stands at the door of the luxury unit. Ringing the bell, he hides the badge in his pocket and places himself in front of the peep hole, his face forced into a friendly smile. The security chain rattles and the door opens to the maximum allowed width.

"Yes?" asks a voice, the face of a balding male showing briefly between door and jam.

"Hi! You're the owner of that fine Bentley shown at the Vintage Auto Club last month aren't you? Saw your car there, and the club's president was kind enough to tell me where I could find you. May I come in? I'd really like to talk to you…make you an offer."

There's a hesitation while the man looks Fusco up and down, then… "Sure, we can talk."

The door closes as the chain is unhooked, then swung open to reveal the asshole who had scammed his ex out of Lee's collage fund. Fusco works hard to keep the smile on his face.

The cop enters the apartment, taking in the art work and expensive furniture, luxury screaming at him from every corner of the room. His scruffy shoes sink into the deep pile carpet while he surveys the various paintings hung on the wall, all spotlighted with individual illuminations. And while he's certainly no connoisseur, those fancy vases, plates, and statues wouldn't get their own special cubbies in a wall if they were just knock-offs.

The place looks like a damn museum! The stuff in this room alone probably worth more than 10 years a cop's salary!

And some of that stuff has been purchased with money meant for his son's education. He has to work doubly to stay calm and project the image of friendly interest…when what he'd like to do is punch the scum into next week!

Fusco is still taking it in all when he hears the door being closed behind him…and then a sound only too recognizable to a person in his profession: that of the racking of a gun slide.

Well, damn!

Slowing raising his hands to shoulder level, he turns to face his adversary, any pretense to friendliness evaporating.

"Just how stupid do you think I am, officer?" asks the balding man, the gun perfectly steady in his hand and pointed squarely at the cop's middle. "You're that bitch's ex. You were in some pictures she emailed…the cop she always gripped about. It didn't take me long to connect the dots when she starting asking questions."

Fusco stands motionless, calling himself every which way stupid for not anticipating this scenario, all the while assessing his chances of diving into the guy before a bullet could hit something vital. If he goes in low enough he might take a hit to the shoulder or arm, but that wouldn't stop him.

Hopefully…

"Now the big question is…how did you find me? She never got my real address, and neither did that car club." He motions Fusco to step to the center of the room with a miniscule movement of the gun. "So you either got pull with the Feds, or you got some awesome hacking skills!"

"You know, scamming is bad enough; it'll get you jail time. But killing a cop? That'll put you away for life. You might want to rethink this."
Fusco tries not to let his increasing anxiety show. Scammers don't normally escalate their crimes to violent acts, but this guy…? The fact that the con even has a weapon puts him in a different class altogether!

The armed man scoffs, waving the gun again.
"Don't have to. Because no one is going to trace anything back to me! Bodies disappear all the time, officer. You know that." He motions with the gun.

"Now move into the bathroom; I don't want to mess up this nice carpet."

Reluctantly the cop turns around and heads to the door indicated by his captor. Once inside, perhaps he would be in closer proximity to the perp and… But the guy is evidently not planning on joining him in the vast tiled room, and stops short of entering at the doorway.

"Into the tub. Keep your face to that window."

So is this it? Is this how it all ends? He feels a strange calm, as though it's all some weird scene he's stumbled into. His partner had gone out in a blaze of glory, fighting for a noble cause…but he, after all he's gone through this year, he's going to die in some bathtub at the hands of a two-bit con? It hardly seems fair…

He hears a click and shuts his eyes, still furiously thinking of a way to somehow change the outcome of this scenario. He's got to find a way out of this, because without him, what will happen to Lee? The boy needs a father, especially now during these teenage years. He sets his jaw, bunches his muscles and prepares to turn and launch himself at the perp.

But instead of the gunshot he's anticipating, there's suddenly a loud thud and then a mocking voice he's heard all too often: "Lionel, you picked a heck of a time to take a bath."

Fusco finishes his movement, whirling around to see Reese standing over the would-be killer, the con obviously out for the count. As the ex-op casually returns his weapon to the small of his back, Shaw pushes past her assassin-in-arms, and asks calmly, "Shall I get rid of him for you, Lionel? My services include trash removal."

"Ah…no. That's…ah…ok. But thanks...!"

He feels shaken, like one would when suddenly awakened from a particularly bad nightmare. Nothing seems real at this moment and his hands go on auto pilot as he removes his cuffs, getting down on one knee to place them on the prone man. The adrenaline rush has caused a small tremor in his hands which he hopes no one will notice.

Since he's pretty sure Mr. Deadly never has that problem...

At this level he can see a pair of dark shoes to his right. Nice shine, he thinks incongruously. Designer shoes. But then Wonder Boy probably makes good money working for the Professor. He shakes his head, forcing himself back into the game as he slowly rises to his feet and faces the man he still refers to in his head as the Bane of his Existence.

"Thanks…"

It's all he can come up with. After all, what else can you say to a guy who's just saved your ass and as a result, allows you to continue to play the most important role in your life….that of being a dad? But the big guy is already turning away, addressing the Professor who's waiting just inside the apartment's entry.

"Harold! I told you to wait outside until we got through in here!"

Fusco almost smiles. It's a trip to hear Reese admonish his boss, given that the geek holds all the power in this mismatched group of do-gooders. And as if to verify that assumption, Finch ignores his employee's comment and continues into the apartment.

"I see everything has been taken care of."

The older man turns to Fusco. "I wish you had come to us with this issue, Detective. It could have saved you the present…problem. But as it is, rest assured that I have emptied all those overseas accounts and placed the funds in escrow."

He steps delicately around the prone scammer into the oversized bathroom. "Let me know who will be responsible for the distribution of the money back to the legal owners and I will send them the pertinent information concerning the holding account."

"Yeah, I will…and thanks." He feels like he's repeating himself here and that there should be a lot more he should say, but again it's all he can come up with.

Shaw looks down at the unconscious body. "You're absolutely sure you don't want him to disappear permanently?"

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EPILOGUE

.

It's over. Finally.

Fusco sighs his relief as he walks slowly out of the precinct. The threat to his ex and son is eliminated and the money will eventually be returned. And he even got an "atta boy" from the Chief…right after being reamed for not turning the whole affair over to Frauds!

His ex-spouse is of course appropriately grateful, though their leave taking had been strangely stilted. A hand shake. Weird.

Funny…folks always say a danger to a family makes everyone pull together, get closer. Well, that sure didn't happen here. But then, they're not a family anymore, are they? His ex may have been grateful he pulled this iron out of her fire, and maybe she even revised some of her earlier opinions about him, but as far as he's concerned they're not friends. No more now than before.

Standing next to his unit, he unconsciously jingles the keys in his pocket, thinking over events of the past few days. That he and the mother of his son barely know each other now doesn't matter anyway; he's changed and not the same person he was.
Changed from before he met the Dynamic Duo.
Before he helped take down HR.
Before his partner's death.

Everything is different now.

He'd spent more than a year grieving over the loss of family life and his role as full time dad, all the time hoping some miracle would have his ex-wife taking him back. But now? When he looks at the mother of his child, all he sees is just another woman who got into a jam and needed help getting out. The marriage bond is truly broken; the emotional hooks gone.

Though he'll always be a Dad to Lee, his allegiance has shifted away from his former wife, their mutual interests and the circle of friends they had developed together. His loyalty has been transferred to others - even if some of them are a royal pain in the ass.

In his periphery, he sees a tall figure detach from the surrounding shadows of the underground garage. Ah. Speaking of royal pains…!

"Need a ride?" he asks, finally pulling out the keys and fingering the remote as the silent figure gets closer.

"No thanks."

He turns to face the Professor's hired gun, somewhat surprised at being sought out - apparently for no reason. And this time Wonder Boy is actually looking at him with that piercing gaze free of suspicion or disgust, giving him his full attention. Hadn't seen that in a long time.

"You're getting good at this, Lionel."
"I was always good at this. That's why you picked me in the first place. Remember?"

Things are a lot different since that scene and the cop knows he isn't the only one that's changed over the last many months.

They all have.

Take the Professor for instance. Where before the master mind of their team had always refrained from taking a hands-on approach in their quest to save innocents, the geek is now fully engaged in all their nefarious activities. Sometimes dangerous activities that occasionally set the cop's teeth on edge!

And since Shaw's appearance on the team, he's noticed Reese moving steadily to the periphery of their operations, increasingly letting Finch or Shaw take the lead - or even that Froot Loop who calls herself Root! Like the ex-op isn't really that vested anymore in their save-people-in-trouble project…

In fact, Carter's death had only accelerated that diminishing involvement as Mr. Deadly had simply walked out, leaving the remaining team vulnerable with only an overworked NYPD cop and the unpredictable Ms. Shaw to work as Finch's close partners!

The chubby cop still remembers with disgust the outcome of his attempts to bring the big guy back into the fold. Even after Reese came back - and it took Glasses to accomplish that – the ex-op never seemed to fully re-engage with the rest of them, not even Finch, the man the ex-agent had often credited with saving his life.

Oh, not that Mr. Deadly isn't still effective, but lately the guy seems to be making a show of trading blows, like he's merely going through the motions, walking through his part… Where a year before he'd been the Major Domo, he now seems content to let others lead the parade, often becoming merely a spectator to the procession.

So why is Wonder Boy here now, making him squirm under that intense gaze?

"About Colorado… We're good now?"

Ah. So that was it! Not much of an apology, but might as well take it since it's probably all that will ever be offered!

"Yeah. Sure."

And Fusco slowly shakes his head, pondering once again on how everything around him just keeps evolving, as he watches with a certain amount of sadness his clay footed hero slipping back into the shadows.

End

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The prompt for this story was one provided (unintentionally) by Kevin Chapman, who mentioned in an interview earlier this year that one idea he'd pitched to the writers involved Fusco's ex-wife being in trouble:

"He helps her out of the love for his child, but not so much for his love for her, but he has to keep it from the child. He's reluctantly helping someone that he really doesn't want to help, but he's doing it out of the love of his child, which I thought would be very interesting." – Kevin Chapman (zapit 1/14)

Since Chapman aired that story idea in public, it obviously hasn't been picked up by the writers…leaving me free to use it! ^_^