Right, this is the belated spanner. Sorry for the delay, words weren't coming. The Machine idea at the end was completely spontaneous (hence why this has taken so long) but I wanted to bring it back to a significant Person of Interest keystone, ie, the Machine.

Soundtrack: Dragster Wave – Ghinzu (Yes, the credits song from Taken with Liam Neeson)

'I built a system, a machine that spies on people every hour of every day. It filters through CCTV, emails, phone calls, instant messages, public and private records, everything. I designed the machine to detect acts against the State and find offenders, but then I ceased my dose, I reprogrammed it so it sees everything. Violent crimes involving ordinary people. I get numbers of those either in danger or those committing it.' Harold paused and lowered his head, ashamed. 'And right now, those crimes are still happening because I haven't been able to stop them.' He paused again and raised his head to look at John, eyes wet with unshed tears. 'I haven't been able to do anything because I am not talented enough, I needed someone with the skills to intervene…'

'Someone like me.' John said solemnly.

'I'm so sorry John.'

'Was any of it real?' John asked after a moment.

A single tear fell down Harold's cheek. 'My feelings are John.'

'You only wanted me for this, to save people. To save the people who murdered hundreds.'

'At first, yes.' Harold admitted. 'But then I fell for you. You're smart, witty, extremely clever and immensely talented. You are a much better person than I ever will be.' Harold paused and watched John process the information. 'I fell in love with you John, truly, madly, deeply.'

John turned to leave, Harold took a step forward and John raised his gun, stopping Harold dead in his tracks. John backed away then left. Harold stood in the middle of the room, he head the distant slam of the front door. The air grew cold in the room, the colour drained from the walls. Harold fell to his knees and let the tears fall down his cheeks. He fell forward, his forehand and hands flat on the floor. He cried. Full heart wrenching sobs that shook him to the core. He'd been selfish and he'd just lost the thing he valued most. The Machine had the power to change the world, but maybe it wasn't ready. The world was changing at an astonishing rate, every day it had something new, but none of that mattered to Harold without John.

John hid in the smouldering remains of one of the factories. He was crouched inside a small cupboard: his elbows on his knees, his wrists around his bowed head. He fought back the searing tears of hurt, anger and betrayal, Harold had given him a new life, but he only wanted him for his own selfish needs. His fists clenched and hit the ground below, his figure was rigid. He hit the ground again and again until his strength dissipated. He fell forward in a foetal position, defeated. For the first time in years, John had felt safe and even loved. But like everything else, it was too good to be true. Harold only wanted John's skills to save people. But John didn't think anyone needed saving, they were all bad people. He felt a small hand rub his back then a figure kneel beside him. He tensed.

'John. You need to hide, out in the open isn't safe.'

John jumped into a crouching position, he was eye level with the figure.

'Zoe?' he asked in disbelief.

'Hello John.' She smiled coolly and held out her head. John closed her fingers and kissed her knuckles. A bullet missed them by a few inches. They ducked, John put a protective arm around Zoe and drew his gun and pointed it in the direction of the bullet. Zoe stuck her head up. 'We need to go. Now!'

John grabbed Zoe's hand and stood them up, they ran to the dirty backstreets. Zoe was the height of sophistication. Heels, a grey curve hugging dress and a kneel length coat that she always wore open. Her hair flowed in waves down just below her shoulders. She was beautiful, she was smart, she was dangerous. A fixer by trade she made people disappear, but she wasn't a killer. Employed by the Government of the State, she worked in secret taking troublesome people out of the limelight forever, no one ever knew what happened to them. But her and John went back years.

They stopped just below a street light, John roughly pushed Zoe against the wall and kissed her. He pulled back and touched her elegant cheek bone with his fingers.

'Long time no see.'

'We have to be careful. I know about you and Harold.'

John's brow furrowed and he punched the wall beside her face. A small scream escaped Zoe's throat. He took a few large strides down the alley away from her then stopped. He calmed.

'How much do you know?'

Zoe straightened her coat and sauntered after him. 'Not much this time, but I know what Harold is like.'

'And how would you know?'

'It's my job to know people.'

'Zoe.'

'I knew his previous slave. Nathan Ingram. He asked me to make Harold disappear.' John looked at Zoe. 'But I didn't. Nathan died before I had all the information I needed.'

'How did he die?'

'Harold shot him.'

Zoe strode past John and walked out the alley. John hesitated then jogged after her.

Harold's eyes widened as he watched the scene play out before him. The rough kiss, the heated conversation afterwards. He typed quickly, eyes flicking between the screen and keyboard. He activated the lip reading software.

'Harold shot him.'

Harold froze. No one knew what had happened. Nathan's killer had never been found, and never would be. Harold blinked and typed again. The mysterious Zoe Morgan: a fixer. She was the daughter of a State Official who was on tried for corruption. She was smart, street wise and had her own formidable power. A small movement on the screen caught his attention, he frowned at the screen through his glasses. A figure stood where John had kissed Zoe, they touched the wall and took out a gun and pulled back the catch. Harold jolted himself up from the desk and limped out the room.

Zoe pushed the door to her apartment open and walked in. It was sparsely furnished as all State apartments were. The front door opened into a large, double height living space with an open plan kitchen off to the right and a corridor leading to the master bedroom and a bathroom. Zoe shrugged off her coat and threw it over the back of the sofa. John stood just inside the door and looked around. Zoe thumbed off her heels and looked over at John.

'Make yourself at home, nothing's changed.' She walked over to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. She took a sip. 'Oh loosen up John. Enjoy the new world.' She sounded irritated and almost sarcastic.

John walked over to the kitchen and stood on the opposite side to Zoe. He placed his large hands on the concrete work top, his grey eyes digging into Zoe's brown orbs.

'How did you know where to find me?'

Zoe set her glass down and looked away from John's piercing eyes. She hesitated before meeting it again, her eyes honestly open.

'I still care John.' She paused. 'People like us have to tread carefully, now more than ever.'

'People like us…' John sneered.

'Yes John, people like us who have dirty hands. The new society will come after us and when they do, they won't go lightly.'

'Why are you telling me this?'

Zoe raised her voice. 'To keep you safe.'

John stalked around the kitchen island, he grabbed Zoe's wrists and held her hands above her head. His face was so close to hers, he could feel his warm breath on her.

'I don't need protecting.'

Zoe's glass smashed. They looked down at the watery glassy mess on the counter. Another bullet whispered closer to them and buried itself in the wall behind Zoe. John ducked them behind the counter as bullets hailed over their heads.

'Snipers.' Announced John.

'What about now John? Huh?'

John took the gun out of the back of his pants and turned on his heel, he returned shots using the counter as cover.

'We have to go.'

John edged towards the front door with Zoe close behind him. The sniper rounds silenced for a moment. John grabbed Zoe's hand and ran. The corridors outside her apartment were long and twisty. John pulled Zoe along, yanking her arm when she slowed too much.

'What are you looking for?'

'A way out.'

John pushed an exit door open and peered inside. He pulled Zoe inside and slowly, methodically, made his way down the stairs. At the bottom, John hauled the door open and stumbled out into the cold night air. He leaned on his knees and breathed deeply. Zoe stood behind him, looking a little shaken. John spun around sharply and pointed his gun into the darkness. A small figure walked out of the shadows, the uneven click click of expensive shoes on the cobbles. Frightened eyes framed in black glasses bore into John's.

'Please put it down John.' He begged.

John squeezed the grip harder as he fought to remain in control of his anger. 'Why?' It was laced with danger.

'Because… I… John…' Harold stuttered. John pulled the catch back. 'I don't know.' Harold whispered defeated.

John lowered his gun. He was a dangerous mix of anger and hurt. 'I am not helping you. The people in danger are those with blood on their hands. The officials, the politicians, the real murderers. They deserve it.'

'It's Miss Morgan John.'

John looked from Harold to Zoe and back to Harold.

'What?'

A sniper round whistled through the air again. Zoe convulsed and fell to the ground. John rushed to her side and looked at the wound in her stomach. Another round landed near her head, John instantly ducked away. He looked up at Harold and held out his gun.

'Cover us.'

Harold took the gun as John picked Zoe up. John carried Zoe into the darkness and Harold followed closely behind.