Harold walked around the apartment leaning on his cake. He sighed with every step – all the days antics and fired up the tight and scarred muscles in his hip. But he didn't mind. The lamps dotted around the room filled it with a warm, mellow light. He walked over to the black leather sofas and leaned down to pull the blanket over Joss. She laid curled up on the sofa asleep, resting her head on her arm. He paused and looked at her: she was beautiful. Her dark, warm skin glowed against the black leather of the settee. Her dark hair fell around her pretty face in long sweeps. Harold grazed his thumb over her cheek bone. He admired Joss, they first met years ago when Joss first joined the Larrelle training academy. She was one of few women there and she excelled, climbing the ranks one by one. She was strong and she was determined. It was customary for Harold to read out and hand out the Larrelle colours, he remembered Jocelyn Carter. He thought she was beautiful, even then. He picked up her glass off the coffee table and carried it to the kitchen. He put it on the side, the sound of a heavy door closing caught his attention. He looked towards the corridor and frowned. Only one door in the penthouse made that sound. Harold turned to look at Joss's sleeping body, he dimmed the lamps. Harold walked down the corridor.

John waited inside the Room. He managed to pick the lock and get inside: it was cold and dark. John searched the room for the small remote that Harold had used to power the lights and music. He found it hidden in one of the bedposts. He turned the lights on. The room was smart and tidy – he didn't even realise had had the time to clear up. He shuddered at the memory – Harold's cold words stung his heart. He breathed deeply and walked around the room, running his hand over the silk sheets, the solid wood and the smooth walls. He laid back on the bed and moved his arms above his head, listening the quite whistle from the sheets. His heart swelled at the memory. The door opened and he sat up. Harold stood in the large doorway, black slacks and a white linen shirt, his now dry hair spiked in all directions. He leaned heavily on his cane.

'What are you doing in here John?'

'It's comforting. The smell and feel of the room.' Silence fell between them. 'I have a few questions Harold, about all this.' He said in a more serious tone.

Harold walked further into the room, his cane scraping on the wooden floor. His face contorted in pain and his knees buckled, John lunged forward and caught Harold before he hit the floor. They knelt in the middle of the room, dwarfed by the sheer size of the furniture.

'Are you ok?' asked John. 'Are you hurt?'

'No, I'm fine.' Harold put his hand on John's shoulder and tried to push himself up unsuccessfully. They looked at each other. 'These questions…'

'We need to get you to your bed, you need to rest.' John tried to help Harold up.

'No John. Stay. Please.' John considered his actions then knelt on the wooden floor opposite Harold, their knees touching. Harold took John's hand in his. 'Well… this room… has been my solace. It allows me to be in control. Yes, I know I am in control of the State but it's different. I want this control and it gives me a… high that I can't find anywhere else. The State and the world is boring. It doesn't need me, it doesn't do anything for me, if anything it repulses me. I don't like what it has become and I made it that way. This room lets me be free, my injuries, my burdens, my pain, it doesn't matter in this room. I am free and I want to share this freedom with you.' He paused. John squeezed Harold's hands reassuringly. John knew he needed someone who'd listen and not pass comment. Harold spoke again, quietly, taking his time. 'When I was growing up, I never had any control then one day, someone found me. Her name was Grace. I was working in her back yard clearing some rubble, she offered me a drink then hit me. I'd never been hit like that before. Then she acted like nothing happened. She was rich, powerful and generally gorgeous. One day, she took me inside the house, into a room not that different from this and she… she made me feel so alive. The power she had. I was her submissive for a few years.'

'Did you Dominate her?'

Harold hesitated before answering. 'Yes, whilst I was learning, I did. But it didn't last, it didn't feel right doing that to her as she had done to me. I found my own submissive. Then the world changed for the worse. All sense offenders were executed. I took TyRon in the early years out of fear, then I stopped. I tried with my previous slaves but I didn't feel right and soon it became a way to vent my anger. It wasn't what I wanted. Then I found you. There was something about you, something mysterious, a challenge so to speak. But I don't see you as a slave John, you've got to see that. I only gave you the collar because I didn't know how you'd react. All I ask is that you are submissive when I want you to be, that's all and maybe, if you wish, you could try being the Dominant. It would mean a lot to me. To really be yours.'

'I've never been Dominant with anyone, I'm not a Dominant person Harold, but maybe, with time, it might work.' John paused. 'Are you happy with what you found?'

Harold blushed and smiled. 'Oh John. I found so much more.' Harold rubbed John's hand with his thumbs. He leaned I and kissed John tenderly. John recuperated.

'We should go, she'll be worried.'

'John. My legs… I don't think I can…'

John kissed Harold again. 'Do you require a lift?' John smirked. John hooked his arms under Harold's arms and raised his eyebrow at the small giggle that escaped Harold. John gently dug his nails into Harold's ribs and tickled him. Harold's laughter filled the room. He wriggled around and fell back. John moved with him and carried on tickling him.

'John please, please stop.'

John's fingered calmed. He loved lovingly down at Harold. He hooked his arm under Harold's knees and stood up with Harold in the bridal lift. John groaned mockingly. Harold giggled. John carried Harold out the room.

Joss was still asleep on the sofa when they entered the room. John carried Harold straight to his bedroom and gently laid him on the bed. Harold stretched out and rubbed his aching muscles. John sat on the edge of bed and picked up one of Harold's feet.

'What are you doing?'

'Caring for my Master.' A smile played at John's lips. John rubbed at the tight knotted muscles in the balls of Harold's foot. Harold moaned and his eyes fluttered shut, he leaned his head back against the pillows. John carefully brought Harold's foot up to his mouth and kissed the instep. Harold moaned through closed lips. John laid a trail of butterfly kisses in the instep and up to his ankle. John crouched and laid Harold's leg on the bed, he kissed his way up to his knee, pushing Harold's slacks up. John continued to kiss his way up Harold's thigh. He nuzzled his hip, his face inches from Harold's crotch. Harold threaded in hands into John's smooth hair and massaged his scalp. John mouthed the beginning of Harold's erection through his trousers. Harold moaned John's name. John moved to Harold's neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses to his ear.

'You mentioned Shaw…' whispered John, he pulled back.

Harold opened his eyes and sat himself up. 'What do you want to know?' he asked quietly.

'Why.'

'In order to survive we needed to evolve. I tried to help the process along, I failed.' John stood up and walked out onto the balcony. Harold lifted his legs off the bed and slowly made his way out into the cool night air. John stood overlooking the State, his arms were at full length on the rail, his head bowed. Harold sighed then went up behind him and put his arms around his torso. 'I should have told you when I first realised it was her. I'm sorry. I didn't know how to, I feel great shame whenever I think of the hundreds of children I used. They're all dead because of me. I hear their screams all the time, every waking moment. I feel their pain twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. I'm sorry John, for the man I am.'

Harold walked away from John and stood with his back to him.

John looked at him. 'You're not that man anymore.'

'I destroyed humanity. I am not worth anything. I am a shell John, nothing more.'

John stepped over to Harold and held him in his arms, Harold tried to push him away but his efforts were futile.

'You are so much more to me. I live, I breath, I feel, all because of you, all for you. Only for you. You have given me another chance at life and at love. I… I love you Harold.'

Harold buried his face in the crook of John's neck and cried. He hadn't heard those words in such a long time. They were meaningless in their modern society. No one felt love anymore, no one felt sadness, happiness, anger or sorry. Society was numb and dead. Harold hadn't cried in years, all the weight of the burdens on his shoulders came out. He was a truly unique man. He was so strong, stronger than anyone he'd ever met before, but this was the reality, the price for his strength.

'Harold.' It was barely audible.

Harold looked at John through tear blurred eyes. John leaned down and kissed Harold deeply. They held each other tight.

Elias watched the scene before him. He found it tragic that the man who had created the greatest tool ever couldn't see its benefits. He chuckled. Harold Finch was something special. He pulled the small screen to fit the larger one in its entirety. He watched the two men.

'What is the point in this?' asked Shaw. 'If you want to catch them you need to catch them in the open.'

'Hold your tongue Shaw. I've let a few past, I won't be so lenient in the future.'

Shaw sat in a chair near the back of the room. Elias turned to her.

'You see, I need proof of sense offence which is obtained legally. I think Finch has been feeling for years but where he's always been alone he'd hidden it.'

'You think Reese will bring it out in him?'

'He will, after all they are so deeply in love. We just need to be patient. I want to you follow them, and get evidence.'

Shaw stood up to leave. 'What will you do?'

'Nothing of any concern of yours.'

Shaw left the room. Elias continued to look up at the screen, he smiled thinly. On the screen, Harold and John were still holding each other on the balcony.

First of all my apologies for the almost smut near the end there. I will do another proper scene later on I promise. Thank you to all those you have read and an even bigger thank you to those who have reviewed. Much love x