Announcement
Title: Announcement
Author: litlover12
Rating: PG
Fandom: Person of Interest
Characters: John, Harold, Carter, Fusco, Grace
Word Count: 443
Summary: What happens when a reclusive billionaire gets married? For one thing, he's reminded that John Reese can't keep a secret.
Author's note: Just a silly bit of fluff, part of my AU where Harold Finch reunites with his long-lost fiancee. (For the uninitiated, Harold Finch is completely capable of doing something like getting married without telling anyone. He is, as he likes to say, a really private person.)
“Carter, can you run a plate for me?” From his post at the corner of a small, obscure street, John rattled off a string of numbers.
“On it,” came the response. “What have you two been up to, anyway? Haven’t heard from you in days.”
“Slow week,” Harold put in, laconically, from his station in the library. “It happens sometimes.”
“It was nice,” John added. “Got caught up on some reading. Slept in a little. Oh, and I was best man at Harold’s wedding.”
There was a brief but profound silence. Then Carter’s “What?” exploded across the line, colliding in mid-air with Harold’s pained “John . . .”
“Wait-” Carter seemed to get her bearings. “You mean one of those undercover things, don’t you? Like you and Zoe that time.” She chuckled. “You really had me going there for a minute, John.”
“No, seriously, Harold got married,” John insisted. “For real. Lovely girl. You should meet her sometime.”
“Thanks, John!” chimed in another voice, brightly. Harold closed his eyes. Why did I think it was a good idea to get her an earpiece of her own?
“What-” Carter sputtered. “Who-”
“Grace Hendricks,” the newcomer identified herself. “Harold’s wife. It’s so nice to meet you, Detective! I’ve heard so much about you.”
Carter drew a long breath. “That puts you one up on me, then,” she muttered dazedly. “Finch, you mean you really went and got married? For Pete’s sake, why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Harold’s a little shy,” John offered helpfully.
“Since when is your name ‘Finch’?” Harold snapped.
“It was one of those spur-of-the-moment things,” Grace explained hastily. “But very romantic. There’s this beautiful little church-”
Harold felt the heat creeping up his neck and into his face. “Grace-I’m sure Detective Carter doesn’t want to hear-”
“Oh, no,” Carter interrupted. “No, you don’t, Finch. Detective Carter wants to hear everything. Starting from the beginning. No detail left out.”
“Don’t you have a plate to run?” Harold protested feebly.
“John, how urgent was that plate?”
“Not urgent at all, Detective. It can wait a few minutes. Go right ahead, Grace.”
“No, hang on a minute,” Carter broke in. “There’s Fusco. Fusco-get over here.” Her voice dropped. “And turn on your earpiece. I’m talking to Finch’s wife!”
Fusco’s voice, loud and startled, erupted into the conversation like the proverbial bull into the china shop. “Wait, what? The little guy got a wife?”
Over the comm came the distinct sound of an ex-CIA agent snorting coffee out his nose.
Harold couldn’t help it. He put his face in his hands, and his own shoulders shook with helpless laughter.
Author: litlover12
Rating: PG
Fandom: Person of Interest
Characters: John, Harold, Carter, Fusco, Grace
Word Count: 443
Summary: What happens when a reclusive billionaire gets married? For one thing, he's reminded that John Reese can't keep a secret.
Author's note: Just a silly bit of fluff, part of my AU where Harold Finch reunites with his long-lost fiancee. (For the uninitiated, Harold Finch is completely capable of doing something like getting married without telling anyone. He is, as he likes to say, a really private person.)
“Carter, can you run a plate for me?” From his post at the corner of a small, obscure street, John rattled off a string of numbers.
“On it,” came the response. “What have you two been up to, anyway? Haven’t heard from you in days.”
“Slow week,” Harold put in, laconically, from his station in the library. “It happens sometimes.”
“It was nice,” John added. “Got caught up on some reading. Slept in a little. Oh, and I was best man at Harold’s wedding.”
There was a brief but profound silence. Then Carter’s “What?” exploded across the line, colliding in mid-air with Harold’s pained “John . . .”
“Wait-” Carter seemed to get her bearings. “You mean one of those undercover things, don’t you? Like you and Zoe that time.” She chuckled. “You really had me going there for a minute, John.”
“No, seriously, Harold got married,” John insisted. “For real. Lovely girl. You should meet her sometime.”
“Thanks, John!” chimed in another voice, brightly. Harold closed his eyes. Why did I think it was a good idea to get her an earpiece of her own?
“What-” Carter sputtered. “Who-”
“Grace Hendricks,” the newcomer identified herself. “Harold’s wife. It’s so nice to meet you, Detective! I’ve heard so much about you.”
Carter drew a long breath. “That puts you one up on me, then,” she muttered dazedly. “Finch, you mean you really went and got married? For Pete’s sake, why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Harold’s a little shy,” John offered helpfully.
“Since when is your name ‘Finch’?” Harold snapped.
“It was one of those spur-of-the-moment things,” Grace explained hastily. “But very romantic. There’s this beautiful little church-”
Harold felt the heat creeping up his neck and into his face. “Grace-I’m sure Detective Carter doesn’t want to hear-”
“Oh, no,” Carter interrupted. “No, you don’t, Finch. Detective Carter wants to hear everything. Starting from the beginning. No detail left out.”
“Don’t you have a plate to run?” Harold protested feebly.
“John, how urgent was that plate?”
“Not urgent at all, Detective. It can wait a few minutes. Go right ahead, Grace.”
“No, hang on a minute,” Carter broke in. “There’s Fusco. Fusco-get over here.” Her voice dropped. “And turn on your earpiece. I’m talking to Finch’s wife!”
Fusco’s voice, loud and startled, erupted into the conversation like the proverbial bull into the china shop. “Wait, what? The little guy got a wife?”
Over the comm came the distinct sound of an ex-CIA agent snorting coffee out his nose.
Harold couldn’t help it. He put his face in his hands, and his own shoulders shook with helpless laughter.