Big Bang Challenge: Mirror, Mirror (Part 1)
Title: Mirror, Mirror
Author: Katica Locke
Artist: SevenCorvus
Pairing/Characters: Finch/Reese, Finch/Reese/Alt!Reese
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Finch and Reese are surprised by the sudden appearance of Reese's counterpart from the alternate universe. Captain Reese wants information to help him catch a dangerous criminal in his world, but that's not all he's after. He's determined to get one or both men into bed with him, but when his scheming goes too far, how far will Reese and Finch go to salvage their partnership?
Warnings: Slash, Threesome (M/M/M), Fringe Crossover AU
Word Count: 17,000 words total (8500 in each part)
Author's Note: Whew, I finally finished it! Like, literally, just finished it, lol. So sorry, but part 2 is unbeta'd, since I wrote it this morning and afternoon, but as soon my beta/sister (bless her heart) takes a look at it, I'll fix any mistakes I made. Thanks so much to SevenCorvus who created the wonderful banner for my fic. As someone with little talent when it comes to visual arts, you artistic people absolutely amaze me. Thanks again!
Sitting at his table in the library, Finch sipped his tea and lazily surfed the internet, taking advantage of a morning without a new number to catch up on perpetuating the fictions that were his many personas - e-mails, blogs, forums, posts to Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr, varying his vocabulary and syntax and opinion to give the impression of different people behind each username. It was exhausting.
A noise in the hall drew his attention and he glanced up, startled to see Reese skulking along against the wall, holding his gun in a two-handed grip, his gaze darting around like he had never seen the place before.
"Something the matter, Mr. Reese?" he asked, stiffening as Reese pointed the gun at him. Reese stepped forward, keeping the weapon trained on Finch, his eyes narrowed.
"Don't move," Reese said. "How do you know my name?"
Finch's eyes widened. This seemed extremely elaborate and far-fetched for a joke, not to mention the fact that it wasn't funny in the slightest. He stared back at the man for a moment, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as he finally noticed the tight black T-shirt and army green cargo pants he was wearing, the wide metal band clipped to the shell of his ear, the faded scar above his left eyebrow. This was not Finch's Reese.
"You're from the other universe," Finch said, his voice soft. The strange Reese gave no confirmation or denial, which in itself was confirmation enough. Few people knew about the alternate universe.
"Who are you?" he asked again, adjusting his grip on the pistol.
"You may call me Mr. Finch," Finch said, experiencing a moment of deja vu.
The strange Reese seemed to relax a little, although he didn't lower his weapon. "How do you know me?"
"I work with your counterpart on this side," Finch said. "I thought you were him for a moment. Now, is there a reason why you're pointing that gun at me?"
"Just making sure you're not like your counterpart on my side," the strange Reese said, slowly lowering the pistol. When Finch didn't move, he put the safety back on and shoved it into the black canvas holster strapped to his right leg.
"You're right-handed?" Finch asked.
"Ambidextrous, but I favor the right. Why?"
"My Reese favors the left. What did you mean about my counterpart?"
"You don't know?"
"I know of the other universe, but not much about it, I'm afraid," Finch said. "I have too much to do on my side to worry about yours." A slight movement, barely more than a shadow over the alternate Reese's shoulder, caught Finch's eye and his gaze shifted. The strange Reese noticed and reached for his gun, but before his hand reached the weapon, Finch's Reese had grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pressed his own pistol to the back of his counterpart's head.
"Who the hell are you and how'd you get in here?"
The alternate Reese slowly raised his hands in surrender, but he had a broad smile on his face that Finch had never seen on his own Reese. "I'd recognize that voice anywhere," he said and Finch saw his Reese frown, confusion evident. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time."
In a movement almost too fast for Finch to see, the other Reese brought his elbow back into his Reese's chest as he twisted to the side and ducked, pulling out of Reese's grasp. The other Reese brought his hand up, knocking the pistol out of Finch's Reese's hand and sending it skidding across the cement floor. The other Reese turned to face his counterpart and Finch watched his Reese's eyes widen.
"What the fuck?" Reese asked, staring at his mirror image.
"Nice to meet you, too," the alternate Reese said, his grin almost predatory.
Finch pushed back his chair and rose stiffly to his feet. "Mr. Reese-"
"It's Captain Reese, actually," the alternate said.
"He was talking to me," Reese said, a dangerous undercurrent in his voice.
"I am you," Captain Reese replied, and there was no mistaking the amusement and taunting in his voice. He was like Reese, only ten times worse, and Reese didn't seem to appreciate the irony. He threw himself against Captain Reese, trying to pin him against the cinder block wall, but Captain Reese deflected him somehow and managed to shove him back, up against the shelves of books. Finch winced as Reese threw an elbow backward, connecting with the side of Captain Reese's face.
Captain Reese shifted his weight, shoving his foot between Reese's and jerking the other man off balance. Reese fell and Finch winced again as he hit the floor, whipping his legs around and sweeping Captain Reese's feet out from under him. Captain Reese landed hard on top of his counterpart, twisting around to press a forearm against Reese's throat. Finch stepped forward, drawing a breath to put a stop to the fracas, but froze as Reese pulled Captain Reese's gun from the holster and pressed the barrel against the side of Captain Reese's head. For a long moment, no one moved, Reese's face turning red as his counterpart continued to apply pressure to his throat, both men too stubborn to back down.
"Oh, knock it off, both of you," Finch barked. "Mr. Reese, I suggest you not blow his head off, unless you want to start a diplomatic nightmare the likes of which you can't even begin to imagine. And you, Captain Reese, have a lot of nerve coming in here uninvited. I should let him shoot you."
"Let him?" Captain Reese repeated, finally lifting him arm and allowing Reese to take a ragged breath. "He takes orders from you?"
"He works for me," Finch said, ignoring the insult in his choice of words as the two Reeses climbed to their feet. Captain Reese held out his hand for his weapon; Reese looked like he was still tempted to use it, but after a moment he handed it over.
Reese glanced at Finch. "What the hell is going on here?"
Finch sighed. "You might want to have a seat." He explained what he knew about the alternate universe, which wasn't much, and Captain Reese did not feel the need to fill in the blanks. "As to why he's here, I don't have a clue," Finch finished, turning to regard Captain Reese, who was standing before the cracked pane of glass where photos of their previous number still hung. Finch hadn't gotten around to taking them down yet.
"I came here for information," Captain Reese said. "For the past six years, I've been hunting a man we know only as the Raven. He's highly intelligent and completely sociopathic, the kind of man you can refer to as an evil genius and still keep a straight face. He does most of his criminal activity via technology, mostly computers and cell phones, but we've attributed at least four murders directly to him, with dozens more carried out by the men that work for him. He's stolen from banks, investment firms, private companies, government agencies; he's sold information to China, Russia, Iran; he's orchestrated kidnappings and political assassinations, and somehow, he manages to always stay one step ahead of us."
"What does this have to do with us?" Reese asked. Finch had a pretty good idea, but he said nothing, the just the possibility making him feel sick to his stomach.
"I'm getting to it," Captain Reese said. "A few months ago, we finally managed to lift a print off of a desk in a hotel the Raven used. It wasn't in the system, but one of our tech analysts suggested we run it on this side and what do you know, we got a hit."
Finch let out a relieved breath. His prints weren't in the system, either - not anymore.
"Not so fast," Captain Reese said with a knowing smirk. "You covered your tracks well, but our side has a little better data recovery software than yours."
Reese glanced back and forth between them. "What are you saying? Are you saying that Raven guy is...your version of Finch?"
"We know he is," Captain Reese said. "Using the information we uncovered about...Mr. Finch, we were able to track down records from before the Raven went off the grid. We have a pretty good idea of who he was and what made him the way he is, but-"
"Which is?" Finch asked.
Captain Reese regarded him for a moment, then glanced at Reese. "When he was nine, there was a car accident." Finch fought to keep his face impassive, knowing that both Reeses were watching him. "He lost both parents and his younger sister."
"Sister?" Finch repeated, feeling like all the breath had left his body. "What was her name?"
"Sarah, I think," Captain Reese said.
Finch closed his eyes, fighting back the lump in his throat. "My mother had a miscarriage when I was five." He quickly composed himself and looked up at Captain Reese. "After the accident, where did he go?"
"He was taken in by an uncle," Captain Reese said. "A Rodger Jameson, aka Lawrence Danburn, aka Peter Reynolds, and the list goes on. The man was a con artist, a thief, and a murderer, and we suspect he abused his nephew physically, emotionally, and psychologically."
Silence fell and Finch glanced up to find two pairs of intense blue-gray eyes focused expectantly on him. "Uncle Rodger was serving a life sentence at the time of the accident. I went into the foster system."
"Divergence," Captain Reese said, nodding. "The place where your paths split." He looked at Reese again, a thoughtful weight in his eyes. After a moment, he turned back to Finch. "There is evidence to suggest you may still have many things in common with him, which is why I'd like to discuss your current circumstances and preferences, places you frequent, things you like..."
"Good luck," Reese said. "He's a really private person."
"Oh, I think I can get him to talk," Captain Reese all but purred. "Over dinner, perhaps? Do you like Italian? You'll have to recommend a wine - I'm not much of a drinker."
Flustered, Finch didn't know what to say.
"Really..." Reese said, now giving his counterpart the same thoughtful look. "I think you and I should have a talk."
"I'll look forward to it," Captain Reese said, his smile broad and warm. "Maybe you could buy me a drink after I finish with your boss. It's the least you could do to make up for giving me this." He ran his finger along one cheekbone, red and already starting to bruise from where Reese elbowed him.
"It's a date," Reese replied with a smile.
Finch stared, nonplussed. He'd known that Reese would flirt with anyone - he'd been the victim of such looks often enough - but he'd never thought the man would flirt with himself. Would wonders never cease.
~*~*~*~
It wasn't hard to imagine Finch as a criminal mastermind, an evil genius as his doppelganger has said, but it was unsettling. Finch was a good man, one of the few that Reese had ever known, and the thought of what he would have had to experience in his formative years in order to become what Captain Reese claimed...
Reese scowled as he led his strange twin into the small back office that served as closet, infirmary, crash room, and weapon's locker. He didn't see why the captain couldn't find his own clothes, but as Finch had pointed out, they were the same size, and Reese had plenty of spare suits. As he pulled out a black suit and white shirt, he glanced over at the captain, who was examining one of Reese's assault rifles.
"So, what is it that the two of you do here, anyway?" Captain Reese asked.
"It's…complicated," Reese answered. "Why do you go by Reese? That's not our real name." The stranger with Reese's face turned around and began juggling tear gas grenades. Reese mouth quirked in a smile as he imagined the coronary Finch would have if he saw that.
"Before getting promoted to tracking down this cyber-criminal, I did a lot of undercover and intelligence work. My handler gave the name on our first mission and it stuck."
"Stanton?" Reese asked, holding out the clothing.
Captain Reese frowned. "No, his name was Davis. Don't you have something with some color in it?" He stepped past Reese and began rifling through the antique wardrobe. "I guess not- Wait, here we go."
Reese bristled as Captain Reese pulled out his favorite lavender shirt, but the other man just grinned.
"I bet we look severely fuckable in this," he said, holding the shirt up under Reese chin. "Yep."
Reese pushed the shirt away. "Quit screwing around." He started to leave.
"Hang on," the captain said. "I wanted to ask, what's the deal between you and your boss?"
"What do you mean? He's my employer-"
"And that's it? You're not sleeping with him?"
Taken aback, Reese struggled to find a response. "I'm not gay." He took a sudden, closer look at his counterpart. "Are you?"
"By definition, no. I like men and women, but if push came to shove, I'd pick dicks over tits any day."
"That's...more information than I needed," Reese said, turning to leave again.
"Wait," Captain Reese said with a laugh. "So you're not interested in Mr. Finch at all?"
"No."
"Then you don't mind if I give it a shot, do you?"
Reese snorted. "Knock yourself out, but try not to be too disappointed. He would never."
Captain Reese gave him a sly smile. "I wouldn't be too sure about that. I've been watching the two of you for quite some time, and it's obvious that he wants you bad, and I figured, it can't hurt that I look just like you. Who knows, after a few glasses of wine, maybe I can talk him into indulging in his fantasy."
"Isn't going to happen," Reese said, but he had to rely on his training to hide the fact that Captain Reese had unsettled him.
"You want to bet on it?"
"What are we betting?"
"Let's see, something good..." the captain said, running a hand back through his hair. "All right, if I can get him to kiss me, you have to buy me a drink and tell me all about yourself."
"All right," Reese said. He had planned on doing that anyway. Maybe not buying him a drink... "And if he turns you down-"
"Hang on, I'm not finished yet. If I can get him to sleep with me, you have to sleep with me, too."
"Excuse me?" Reese said. "That's- that's-"
"Narcissistic?"
"I was going to say sick, depraved, perverse-"
"Why? It's not like we're related. And come on, don't tell me you've never masturbated in front of the mirror."
Reese gave him a deadpan stare.
"That's just me, then?" Captain Reese said with a cheeky, unapologetic grin. Reese found himself both fascinated and repulsed. What sort of life had he led to make him this way? Where was their divergence? He needed to know, but he couldn't ask, he could hardly think it without a strange lump forming in his throat. Was she still alive?
"You look like you're thinking hard about something," Captain Reese said. "Trying to picture me naked? Here, maybe this will help." He peeled off his black T-shirt and tossed it onto the foot of the cot, revealing a lean and tanned torso, his abs a bit more clearly defined than Reese's own, he couldn't help but notice. He also couldn't help but notice the scars, pale silver and new pink, that marred the dark skin.
"How'd you get that?" Reese asked, taking a step closer to get a better look at the deep, old scar on his twin's chest, a line that nearly bisected his left nipple.
"Knife fight in Guatemala," the captain said. He turned showing Reese the back of his right upper arm. "Slipped climbing over a razor wire fence in Algeria." He unbuttoned his pants and shoved them down off his right hip, exposing a multitude of small silver scars on his flank. "Birdshot in Wisconsin."
Reese arched an eyebrow.
"Yes, I was shot in the ass while duck hunting. I'm guessing you didn't get to experience that particular teenage rite of passage."
"Never had the fortune," Reese replied. "Are we done here?"
"Not hardly," Captain Reese said, bending down and loosening the laces on his boots before toeing them off. He dropped his pants and stepped out of them, standing in the middle of the room in just his briefs. "What about our bet?"
Reese rolled his eyes. "You're an idiot if you think Finch will ever-"
"And you're an idiot if you turn down a sure bet, then, aren't you?"
"Fine, but when Finch laughs in your face, you're going to stop this nonsense, you're going to leave him and me alone, and you're going to get whatever information you need and go back to where you came from. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Captain Reese said, his grin far too smug for Reese's liking.
~*~*~*~
Finch arrived at the little Italian restaurant promptly at seven, paid the cab driver, and climbed out. Captain Reese was waiting beneath the awning, looking so much like Finch's Reese that when the captain smiled at him, a warm, broad smile without guile or reservation, for a moment, Finch felt his heart skip. He quickly mastered himself and took out his cell, sending Reese a quick text to inform him that he was turning off his phone, which he did next, going so far as to take out the battery to prevent eavesdropping. He wasn't sure what Captain Reese wanted to talk about, but he knew he'd feel better if he knew Reese wasn't listening in.
Putting the phone away, he approached the door, frowning as Captain Reese opened it for him. "I can do that myself," he said, limping past him into the foyer. Captain Reese caught up to him and reached past him, opening the inner door, too.
"I'm sure you can," Captain Reese said, his voice a low purr, "but a gentleman always opens the door for his date."
Finch turned stiffly to look up at him, his gaze drawn to the faded scar over his left eyebrow. "This is not a date," Finch said.
"I suppose that depends on your perspective," Captain Reese replied with another unabashed smile. Why couldn't Reese-
Finch pushed the compromising thought aside. It didn't matter. Reese didn't smile like that, perhaps couldn't, not after the things he'd witnessed, the things he'd done. Such warm smiles belonged to those who had never felt the darkness in their soul. Not people like Reese, or like Finch.
They entered the restaurant and were quickly seated, even without a reservation. About half of the tables were occupied, the floors were clean, the tablecloths neat, and the air smelled deliciously of fresh bread, tomatoes, basil, and grilled eggplant. The wine list was decent and Finch ordered a bottle of white while they perused the menu. After the server had taken their order and left, he tried to get down to business, to no avail.
"We have all night to talk about you," Captain Reese said. "First, I'd like to ask you a question about your Reese. Are you fucking him?"
"I beg your pardon?" Finch hissed through his teeth, glancing around to make sure no one had overheard. Thank God he'd thought to turn off his phone.
"I've seen the way he looks at you," Captain Reese continued, as though this were a perfectly acceptable topic of conversation. "I've been watching the two of you for quite some time. It's obvious that he has feelings for you."
It couldn't have been that obvious. Finch cleared his throat, busying himself with straightening his silverware on the table to avoid looking at Captain Reese. "How Mr. Reese feels or doesn't feel isn't any of your concern. I was under the impression that you came here to learn about the Raven."
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I can't satisfy my own curiosity while I'm here. I just asked because I don't want to come between you if there's anything-"
"There isn't," Finch said, then frowned. "What do you mean, come between us?"
"Well, if you're not sleeping with him, I'd like to be."
Finch stared at him, at a complete loss for words, the mental image of what Captain Reese was suggesting springing unbidden to his mind - two Reeses, naked, sweaty, grunting, moaning, gasping - Finch felt himself flush, his slacks growing tight across the groin and he forced the thought away.
"What your suggesting is-"
"Narcissistic?" Captain Reese said with a smirk.
"Well, yes, but I was going to say impossible. Reese would never."
"Want to bet?"
"I think I know the man better than you do, Captain."
"That man you're talking about is me."
"And that's where you are most wrong," Finch said with a small shake of his head. "I don't know you very well, but already I can tell that you and Reese are two very different people who happen to look alike."
"I disagree," Captain Reese said. "We may have had different experiences, but at the core, at the most basic level, we are the same, with the same desires and urges, the same wants and needs. I know those needs and desires intimately. I know what will turn him on and get him off. I know how to be the best he's ever had or will ever have, and I know he won't be able to resist, because I know I couldn't."
They fell silent as the wine arrived. Finch sampled it and nodded his approval, waiting until the glasses had been filled and the server departed before shaking his head again. "Trust me, because I know Reese, and he will never sleep with you. He had too many bad experiences with men while working for the CIA, whoring himself to get close to a target. He just won't, so save yourself the embarrassment and don't even ask." It was why Finch never had. It wasn't the only reason - he shifted his stiff leg to relieve the ache in his hip - but it was the main one.
"Who said anything about asking?" Captain Reese asked, a playful smile twisting his lips as he raised his wine glass to them. Finch glanced away. He was so like Reese in many ways, but not enough, not where it mattered. "So, what do you want to bet?"
Finch turned back to him. "Excuse me?"
"You say I can't get him into bed, I say I can - I think that needs a wager, don't you?"
"I don't gamble."
"Oh? I thought you sounded like it was a sure thing."
"It is-"
"Then what have you got to lose? I tell you what, if he turns me down, I promise to leave him and you alone for the remainder of my stay. Purely professional behavior, nothing more."
"Fine," Finch said, more than happy to agree to that.
Captain Reese smirked again. "All right, but if I can get him to kiss me, then you have to tell me how you really feel about him."
"I don't-"
"Hang on, I'm not done yet. If I can get him into bed with me, then you have to sleep with me, too."
"Me? Why?"
"He's not the only one that I'm curious about. Like I said, I've been watching you for a long time, doing whatever it is that you do, causing havoc and mayhem, but somehow always managing to save someone. I find you…fascinating and mysterious and I want to become more intimately acquainted."
Finch suppressed a shiver at the sultry suggestion in Captain Reese's voice. He wasn't Reese, but he looked like him, he sounded like him, he probably kissed and fucked like him, too, and would it really be such a crime to indulge a little?
Finch cleared his throat. "Not that anything is going to happen between the two of you, but say it does. I'm just supposed to take your word for it? Or will you bring me pictures?"
Captain Reese laughed. "No, I doubt I could get him to pose for you. I'm having a drink with him after dinner, so why don't you just hang around and keep an eye on us. That's what you do, isn't it? Watch people?"
Their dinner arrived and Captain Reese got down to business, his questions mostly professional, but even when they strayed into what Finch considered personal territory, he could understand the reasoning behind it. It was strange and uncomfortable to talk about himself so much, but otherwise the evening was pleasant enough.
"Thank you," Captain Reese said as they sat nursing a final glass of wine apiece, the dishes cleared and check placed quietly on the edge of the table. "This should help immensely. Maybe we can even figure out how he seems to know everything before it happens."
Finch shifted in his chair, both because of his stiff hip and because of the evasive answers he'd been giving all night whenever the subject of his daily activities came up. "I think I might have a theory about that," he said finally. "It's possible that the Raven has built a machine, a giant computer program that accesses all surveillance footage, all phone calls, all electronic communication, and sorts it, analyzes it, and predicts future events based on that information."
"That's not possible," Captain Reese said, shaking his head. "I mean, maybe for a company like Massive Dynamic, with nearly unlimited funds and resources and a whole team of programmers and engineers, but one man?"
"It's not as farfetched as you think," Finch said quietly, taking another sip of his wine. He could feel Captain Reese staring at him, and slowly he raised his gaze, meeting dark blue eyes.
"Is that-"
"Don't bother finishing the sentence, Captain," Finch said. "That particular topic is not open for discussion, I was merely suggesting something to look into on your side." He pulled a stack of cash out of his jacket pocket and peeled off a couple of hundreds.
"Hey, I'm supposed to be buying dinner," Captain Reese protested. "I asked you out, remember."
"This wasn't a date," Finch said, speaking through his teeth. He tucked the bills in with the check and stood up, wincing slightly as his lower back gave a twinge. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do."
"I'll walk out with you," Captain Reese said, draining his glass in a single gulp and standing up. They headed for the door, the alternate Reese walking just at Finch's elbow, close enough that Finch was acutely aware of his presence. Perhaps it was just the wine, but he found himself thinking about that stupid bet again, the odds and the outcomes. Captain Reese opened the doors for him again, but his annoyance was more feigned than anything. Out on the street, the sky above was black, the streetlights and headlights casting the city into splashes and pools of light and shadow.
Finch glanced around for a taxi, surprised when Captain Reese stepped close behind him, hands lighting on his hips and warm breath sliding down under his collar. "You smell good," Reese whispered. But it wasn't Reese, it was the other Reese, and he was practically a stranger. That didn't stop Finch's heart from pounding, or his skin from heating up, or his mouth from going dry.
"What are you doing?" Finch asked.
"Trying to resist the urge to take you back to my hotel room and ravish you all night long, to hell with our bet. You wouldn't complain if I wanted to suck your cock, would you?"
Finch swallowed hard. "Isn't Mr. Reese expecting you?"
"I think he'll get over it."
"Captain-" Finch gasped, feeling lips brush the side of his neck, just beneath his ear.
"Kiss me," Captain Reese whispered. "Give me that, at least."
Finch pulled away from him, looking in vain for a cab, his heart racing, thumping at the base of his throat, making it hard to breathe. He had to get out of there before he did something stupid- Oh, fuck it. He turned around, one hand grabbing the lapel of Captain Reese's jacket, steadying himself as he stretched up to meet the soft lips of the other man. He closed his eyes, knowing it was wrong to imagine that he was with Reese - the real Reese - but he couldn't stop himself. His mouth opened, his tongue sliding along Reese's lower lip, making him groan.
Then Reese - Captain Reese pulled back, looking down at him, his face cast in shadow by the streetlight behind him. "Tell me that was me you were kissing and not him."
Finch looked away, suddenly disgusted with himself. "I'm sorry," he said.
Captain Reese just chuckled. "Don't be. I'd have been shocked if it was." His warm hand cupped Finch's cheek, gently coaxing his head up. Captain Reese leaned down, kissing him softly before stepping back. "You better be watching," he said, raising his arm and hailing a passing cab, "because now I really want to know how you feel about him." He opened the door and Finch climbed inside, a nervous fluttering in the pit of his stomach as he looked out through the window at Captain Reese, picturing him kissing his counterpart. The odds were so slim they were almost non-existent, but there was no way in hell Finch wouldn't be watching, just in case.
~*~*~*~
Reese watched the taxi pull away from the curb, carrying its lone occupant off to places unknown. He stood for a moment in the darkness of the alley across the street, then stepped out, making his way through traffic as Captain Reese waited on the sidewalk under the awning of the restaurant, grinning at him like the cat who'd swallowed the canary.
"Looks like you owe me a drink," the captain said.
Reese didn't respond. He wasn't sure what he would say or do if he did. A great tangled mass of emotion was churning inside him, anger and jealousy and confusion, making it hard to think. That was why he didn't let himself have emotions.
"C'mon," Reese said finally with a jerk of his head. "There's a quiet little bar just up the street." He started walking without waiting for a response. After what he just saw, he needed a drink.
Captain Reese fell into step beside him, his gait much looser, more relaxed and fluid, Reese noticed. "He was thinking about you, you know," the captain said after a moment. "I asked him."
"Can we not talk about that?" Reese growled through his teeth.
"All right. I wanted to talk about you, anyway. Why aren't you all over that? He's adorable in a dorky genius sort of way, he looks fucking fine in those suits, and he's crazy about you. So what's wrong with you?"
"I'm not gay," Reese snapped.
"So? Do things work differently over here? Do you have to sign up somewhere, gay or straight? Is it written on your driver's license - height, weight, eye color, sexual preference? Is it tattooed on your dick - for pussy only?"
Reese gave him a dark look. "No."
"Then what is your problem? You don't have to be gay. Life isn't black or white, gay or straight, it's all shades of gray. That's the beauty of it. You don't have to choose. You may have never felt that way about a man, and you may never feel that way again, but you can't tell me it didn't royally piss you off to see me kissing him."
Reese just scowled and kept walking.
"Or is it something else?" Captain Reese asked, his voice low. "Did you try it once and decide you didn't like it? Because it's not fair to judge every man based on one bad blowjob-"
Reese didn't even realize he wanted to slam the captain against the nearest wall until after he'd done it, his hands balled into fists gripping Captain Reese's borrowed jacket, his face inches from one that looked so much like his own. "It wasn't once, it was dozens of times, to get close to assets, to gain their trust, to learn their secrets, to kill them - arms dealers and human traffickers and terrorists - men whose presence made me feel physically ill, men I had to suck off, men who fucked me in the ass, men that were a pleasure to kill."
"Men that aren't me or Finch," Captain Reese said quietly. "Do you really think he'd do what they did, that he'd make you feel like they did?"
Reese let him go and turned away, shaking inside as he ran a hand back through his hair. "I- I don't know - No, he wouldn't, but...I don't want him to become associated with those memories, and- and I don't know if I could keep them separate."
"I didn't know," Captain Reese said after a moment. "I'm sorry."
Reese ignored him. He didn't need sympathy.
"C'mon," the captain said after a moment, clapping him on the back in a friendly way. "The first drink's on me and I promise not to ask any more personal questions." Reese hesitated, then led him down the street to a corner bar. It was dark inside, most of the light coming from the flickering neon beer signs and the lamps hanging over the pool tables. The bar was old and scarred, the jukebox broken since the nineties, and the security cameras in the corners just for show. It was where he frequently came to get away from the prying eyes of Finch and his Machine, though he rarely drank anything harder than a beer. Tonight, he ordered whiskey.
Reese threw it back and signaled for another, then led his counterpart over to a table in the corner where they wouldn't be overheard. He even turned off his phone, figuring turnabout was fair play and if Finch didn't like it...to hell with him.
"So, what's on your mind?" Captain Reese asked.
Reese stared down at the table, his gaze tracing the wood grain just visible beneath years of grime. "Jessica," he said finally. "Is she alive on your side?"
"Who?"
Reese's head snapped up, ready to kill him - diplomatic nightmare be damned - if this was some kind of joke, but Captain Reese looked genuinely confused. "Jessica. I met her in high school, we dated through college and while I was in the service. I loved her..."
"Oh, Jessica from high school," the other Reese said, nodding. "We never dated. I thought she was pretty, but she hooked up with this other guy. What was his name...Michael- No, Marcus. Marcus Standridge. I think they might have gotten married."
"Marcus..." Reese frowned. The name sounded familiar, but he didn't remember anyone named Marcus in high school. He thought back further. "I knew Marcus in junior high, but he went to Montana with his father after his parents divorced."
"And my Marcus stayed with his mother," Captain Reese said.
"Divergence..." Reese muttered, finishing his whiskey. Then something occurred to him. "It's my fault she's dead. In your world, she's alive because she was never with me. It's my fault."
"You can't know that," Captain Reese said, shaking his head. "I don't know if she even is alive, and there have been countless decisions made since that moment in time. You can't know, but you'll drive yourself crazy if you keep thinking about it. Now come on, ask me something else."
But that was all Reese wanted to know. Nothing else mattered. He walked out of the bar and was halfway up the block when he heard running footsteps behind him.
"John, wait," Captain Reese said, catching up with him. Reese didn't slow his stride one bit. "You do prefer John, right? That's what Finch calls you sometimes. Personally, I like Jack-"
"What do you want?" Reese snarled.
"Look, I'm sorry that wasn't what you wanted to hear. I'm sorry my life isn't everything you've dreamed of, but we've got real problems to deal with. I screwed up when I kissed Finch. I didn't think it would hurt anything, that you'd come around after a few nudges in the right direction, but I didn't know you'd been traumatized by your past experiences, and now that he's had a taste he's going to want more, he's going to want the real thing, and it's going to ruin this partnership that the two of you have, and that was never my intention."
"You're giving yourself too much credit," Reese said. "It was just a kiss. Finch will get over it. He's probably forgotten all about it already."
"Wanna bet?" Captain Reese asked. "You weren't close enough to see him trembling, to hear the need in his voice, to feel the desperation in his kiss. He wants you, and you're too emotionally scarred-"
"Would you shut up," Reese said, his voice low. "There's nothing wrong with me."
"Prove it. Kiss me."
Reese turned away, disgusted.
"I was right," Captain Reese said, sounding smug. "They broke you-"
Reese slammed him against the wall again, knocking the wind out of him, but Captain Reese just laughed, a breathless chuckle, and didn't even try to break away.
"Did I hit a nerve there, John?" he asked. "You don't have to admit it to me, but at least stop lying to yourself. You want him, too, but you're scared, and that pisses you off, that those horrible men could still have so much power over you long after they're nothing but dust. Show them - show me - that you're stronger than that. Kiss me. You'll see."
Reese kissed him, just to shut him up, covering his mouth, capturing his lips, pressing him harder against the wall, his fingers digging into the captain's upper arms. He was surprised to feel a hand in the middle of his chest, pushing against him. He jerked back, out of breath, his lips tingling. "What?"
"It's a kiss, not an assault," Captain Reese said. "You do that to Finch, you're going to hurt him. Go slow; be gentle."
His heart thumping in his chest, Reese leaned forward, hesitating before brushing his lips against the captain's. He thought of Finch, with his stiff neck and rigid shoulders and determined limp, never complaining about the pain that Reese saw him in every day. It was amazing how someone so fragile could be so tough. But Captain Reese was right. Hurting Finch was the last thing he wanted to do. It was one of the reasons he'd ignored his feelings toward the other man, even if it wasn't the main one.
He stiffened as he felt large, warm hands slide beneath his jacket, touching him through his shirt, but he didn't pull away. This wasn't anything like what he'd gone through before. But then, those men hadn't been interested in kissing. His lips parted and he heard and felt his counterpart groan as he slid his tongue into Captain Reese's mouth, tasting the wine and tomato sauce from his dinner with Finch. Those arms wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer, and he drew a sharp breath as he felt a hand touch the butt of his gun.
Captain Reese drew back, grinning at him. "Why, John, is that a gun in your pants or are you enjoying this as much as I am?" He pulled Reese up against him and Reese blinked, startled by the hard bulge in the front of Captain Reese's trousers. He started to step back, but the captain grabbed him, jerking him off balance and exchanging places with him, the cold wall of the building against Reese's back and his twin's hands against his chest.
"Relax, John; you're going to like this."
Reese stared at him, feeling like he should put a stop to this, but he didn't move as Captain Reese slid his hands down Reese's chest, to his belt, and quickly unbuckled it. The button and zipper were next, and Reese's gaze drifted down, following the captain as he dropped to his knees. Reese gave a muted grunt, glancing up and down the sidewalk as his cock was engulfed in a hot, wet mouth, but this was one of the quieter corners of the city. The only eyes watching them were the cold, staring lenses of traffic and security cameras. Briefly, he wondered if Finch was watching, but that was rather self-centered. Surely the man had better things to do.
Reese leaned his head back against the brick, breathing hard as skilled lips and tongue teased him to hardness, stroking all his most sensitive places and making his legs feel weak. Captain Reese alternated between suckling the head and sliding down the shaft, taking Reese nearly to the back of his throat. The captain moaned, making obscene slurping noises as he drew back, squeezing the crown with his lips as his tongue probed the slit. Reese panted, his hands balling into fists as he felt the pleasure gather in his groin, growing heavy and insistent, the pressure building, his balls drawing up.
He cried out, his hips jerking as he came, the orgasm thundering through him. When his head stopped spinning, he glanced down at the man before him, licking his lips and wiping a smear of white off his chin with the back of his hand.
"I don't mind swallowing," Captain Reese said, tucking Reese's spent cock back into his trousers and zipping him up, "but it's considered polite to give a bit more warning." He stood back up, wearing a Cheshire cat grin. "Well? That wasn't so bad, now was it?"
Reese didn't answer. He finished putting his clothes in order and walked away. He wasn't sure how he felt about what had just happened.
"Well, if you won't take me home with you," Captain Reese called after him, "I suppose I'll have to pay Harold a visit, instead. He's probably back at his library, don't you think? Workaholic, that one. You need to get him to relax a bit more often. Or maybe I can. I'll let you know. See you in the morning, John."
Reese just ignored him and kept walking. He was bluffing, trying to get a reaction out of him. Finch would never- But then, Reese had sworn Finch would never kiss the captain, either. His steps faltered. Would Finch sleep with him? Would he, because he really wanted Reese? Would he break down, give in, and turn to the wrong Reese? The captain didn't know anything about him - nothing that mattered anyway. He didn't care about him, didn't lay awake at night thinking about him, didn't worry whenever he went into the field. This was just a game, a conquest to him.
And Reese would be damned if he was going to let Finch get hurt like that.
~*~*~*~
Finch was waiting when Captain Reese arrived back at the library. He sat quietly in one of the old wingback leather chairs from one of the library reading lounges, sipping a cup of tea and trying not to let on how close the two Reeses had come to giving him a coronary. The captain strode down the hall with all of Reese's grace and quite a bit more swagger, a very self-satisfied smirk on his face.
"Were you watching?" Captain Reese asked.
Finch took another sip of his tea, trying to calm the last of his nerves. "I was," he said finally. "I suppose you're proud of yourself." If his disapproval was supposed to shame Captain Reese, it didn't work. His smirk broadened into a cheeky grin.
"Extremely," Captain Reese said. "He's a bit rusty in the kissing department, but he's a very fast learner. I think you'd enjoy teaching him a thing or two."
Finch cleared his throat, determined not to even entertain such a notion. "You're here to collect on our bet, I presume?"
"Among other things," Captain Reese said, pulling out his phone and glancing at the screen. "But first, I need to check in with my superiors. Excuse me for a moment." He walked out and Finch breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for the respite, however brief it might be. He mulled over his answer to the captain's question, trying to decide how he had felt, watching that stranger kiss Reese. Jealous, he decided. Envious. Kissing the captain had been a nice facsimile, but he wanted the real thing.
He glanced up as Reese stalked back up the hall toward him. His conversation with his superior must not have went well; his steps were tight and angry. He stopped in the doorway, silent, waiting. Finch took a deep breath.
"I want him," Finch said simply. "He is the most courageous, selfless, handsome, broken man that I have ever known and every fiber of my being aches to help him, to heal him, but I know what he went through - some of it, anyway - at the hands of those men, and I wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to be touched by another man for the rest of his life. By forcing him to do what he did, you only proved just how much he's willing to put up with, but I don't want to be 'put up with'. I want him to want me, too, absurd as that sounds."
"Why is that absurd?" Captain Reese asked, his voice soft.
Finch snorted. "Look at me, Captain. I'm an old man with a bum leg who changes his clothes with his back to the mirror. Even I don't want to look at me." Embarrassed by his candor, Finch glanced away. "And if you mention a word of this to him, I'll send you back to your universe in pieces."
A tense silence settled over the room, broken suddenly by footsteps in the hall. Captain Reese turned as Reese sauntered in, a smug smile on his- Oh, fuck no. Finch glanced back and forth between the two men, suddenly unable to tell them apart. His heart began to race, panic like a heavy weight on his chest. His gaze settled on the silvered scar above Captain Reese's left eyebrow as the captain grinned at him.
"What did I miss?" he asked.
Reese grabbed him by the throat and slammed him back against the cinder block wall, teeth bared as he snarled, "You knew he'd think I was you!"
"It's not my fault he can't tell us apart," Captain Reese said, his words strangled, but no less amused. Reese let go of him and stalked away; Finch watched him go with a sick, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Captain Reese rubbed at his neck and glanced at Finch. "He's wound a bit tight tonight."
Finch just stared at him, shaking inside, and for the first time in his life, he wished he had a gun. He turned and walked away, down one of the little-used, secondary corridors, no idea where he was going, but he couldn't stand to be in the same room with that man for another second.
"Hey, Finch, hang on," Captain Reese called after him. Finch glanced around, suddenly realizing that this short hall only led to offices and storage rooms, not out of the building. He could hear the captain's footsteps behind him and he ducked into one of the small rooms, slamming the wooden door behind him. The lock was a simple sliding bolt, but he threw it and leaned back against the door, knowing that the alternate Reese would have no trouble muscling his way in if he really wanted to.
Captain Reese knocked on the door. "Finch- Harold, c'mon, don't be angry. I was just trying to help. He needed to know. He wants you, too, he's just afraid. You need to take point on this one."
Finch closed his eyes, groaning softly to himself. Like he knew anything about wooing a prospective mate. Nathan had pursued him, a fact he'd been oblivious to for months, and Grace…How such a beautiful, intelligent woman had fallen for him was still a mystery. A case of two lonely souls, perhaps. Finch just didn't have the people skills to court Reese.
"Harold, I can fix this, but I don't have a lot of time. I'm scheduled to return to my universe at ten A.M. tomorrow. You'll probably never see me again."
Thank God. Finch opened his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Once the captain was gone, he and Reese could go back to the way things were. They were good at pretending that nothing had happened, like with Finch's involuntary experimentation with Ecstasy. What had happened that night - and what had almost happened - was never mentioned. That was the way it should be, the way it needed to be.
"Harold," Captain Reese rumbled, his voice low and sultry, "I'm getting laid tonight, one way or another, so if you won't open this door, I'm going to have to pay John a visit, and I think we both know how that will turn out."
Finch shuddered at the dark, smoldering sex in his voice, his heart beating faster as one sweaty hand clutched at the doorknob. He couldn't. His body ached, longing to feel those big hands moving over his skin, but he just couldn't. He wanted Reese, not some fast and loose imitation.
"All right, if that's how you want it," the captain said with a sigh. "Thank you for your help. This might be the break we've been needing and if I don't see you again…don't give up on John. He needs you."
Finch listened to the retreating footsteps until they faded into silence. Even then, he didn't trust that the man was really gone. He lingered in the small storage closet for several more minutes before venturing out, but he need not have worried. Captain Reese had left. With a sigh, he limped out and sat down at his computer, trying to remember what he'd been doing before his night had been interrupted. He stared at his blank screen, trying not to think about the events of the past ten minutes. They just needed to forget it. It was best for everyone.
Part 2
Author: Katica Locke
Artist: SevenCorvus
Pairing/Characters: Finch/Reese, Finch/Reese/Alt!Reese
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Finch and Reese are surprised by the sudden appearance of Reese's counterpart from the alternate universe. Captain Reese wants information to help him catch a dangerous criminal in his world, but that's not all he's after. He's determined to get one or both men into bed with him, but when his scheming goes too far, how far will Reese and Finch go to salvage their partnership?
Warnings: Slash, Threesome (M/M/M), Fringe Crossover AU
Word Count: 17,000 words total (8500 in each part)
Author's Note: Whew, I finally finished it! Like, literally, just finished it, lol. So sorry, but part 2 is unbeta'd, since I wrote it this morning and afternoon, but as soon my beta/sister (bless her heart) takes a look at it, I'll fix any mistakes I made. Thanks so much to SevenCorvus who created the wonderful banner for my fic. As someone with little talent when it comes to visual arts, you artistic people absolutely amaze me. Thanks again!
Sitting at his table in the library, Finch sipped his tea and lazily surfed the internet, taking advantage of a morning without a new number to catch up on perpetuating the fictions that were his many personas - e-mails, blogs, forums, posts to Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr, varying his vocabulary and syntax and opinion to give the impression of different people behind each username. It was exhausting.
A noise in the hall drew his attention and he glanced up, startled to see Reese skulking along against the wall, holding his gun in a two-handed grip, his gaze darting around like he had never seen the place before.
"Something the matter, Mr. Reese?" he asked, stiffening as Reese pointed the gun at him. Reese stepped forward, keeping the weapon trained on Finch, his eyes narrowed.
"Don't move," Reese said. "How do you know my name?"
Finch's eyes widened. This seemed extremely elaborate and far-fetched for a joke, not to mention the fact that it wasn't funny in the slightest. He stared back at the man for a moment, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as he finally noticed the tight black T-shirt and army green cargo pants he was wearing, the wide metal band clipped to the shell of his ear, the faded scar above his left eyebrow. This was not Finch's Reese.
"You're from the other universe," Finch said, his voice soft. The strange Reese gave no confirmation or denial, which in itself was confirmation enough. Few people knew about the alternate universe.
"Who are you?" he asked again, adjusting his grip on the pistol.
"You may call me Mr. Finch," Finch said, experiencing a moment of deja vu.
The strange Reese seemed to relax a little, although he didn't lower his weapon. "How do you know me?"
"I work with your counterpart on this side," Finch said. "I thought you were him for a moment. Now, is there a reason why you're pointing that gun at me?"
"Just making sure you're not like your counterpart on my side," the strange Reese said, slowly lowering the pistol. When Finch didn't move, he put the safety back on and shoved it into the black canvas holster strapped to his right leg.
"You're right-handed?" Finch asked.
"Ambidextrous, but I favor the right. Why?"
"My Reese favors the left. What did you mean about my counterpart?"
"You don't know?"
"I know of the other universe, but not much about it, I'm afraid," Finch said. "I have too much to do on my side to worry about yours." A slight movement, barely more than a shadow over the alternate Reese's shoulder, caught Finch's eye and his gaze shifted. The strange Reese noticed and reached for his gun, but before his hand reached the weapon, Finch's Reese had grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pressed his own pistol to the back of his counterpart's head.
"Who the hell are you and how'd you get in here?"
The alternate Reese slowly raised his hands in surrender, but he had a broad smile on his face that Finch had never seen on his own Reese. "I'd recognize that voice anywhere," he said and Finch saw his Reese frown, confusion evident. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time."
In a movement almost too fast for Finch to see, the other Reese brought his elbow back into his Reese's chest as he twisted to the side and ducked, pulling out of Reese's grasp. The other Reese brought his hand up, knocking the pistol out of Finch's Reese's hand and sending it skidding across the cement floor. The other Reese turned to face his counterpart and Finch watched his Reese's eyes widen.
"What the fuck?" Reese asked, staring at his mirror image.
"Nice to meet you, too," the alternate Reese said, his grin almost predatory.
Finch pushed back his chair and rose stiffly to his feet. "Mr. Reese-"
"It's Captain Reese, actually," the alternate said.
"He was talking to me," Reese said, a dangerous undercurrent in his voice.
"I am you," Captain Reese replied, and there was no mistaking the amusement and taunting in his voice. He was like Reese, only ten times worse, and Reese didn't seem to appreciate the irony. He threw himself against Captain Reese, trying to pin him against the cinder block wall, but Captain Reese deflected him somehow and managed to shove him back, up against the shelves of books. Finch winced as Reese threw an elbow backward, connecting with the side of Captain Reese's face.
Captain Reese shifted his weight, shoving his foot between Reese's and jerking the other man off balance. Reese fell and Finch winced again as he hit the floor, whipping his legs around and sweeping Captain Reese's feet out from under him. Captain Reese landed hard on top of his counterpart, twisting around to press a forearm against Reese's throat. Finch stepped forward, drawing a breath to put a stop to the fracas, but froze as Reese pulled Captain Reese's gun from the holster and pressed the barrel against the side of Captain Reese's head. For a long moment, no one moved, Reese's face turning red as his counterpart continued to apply pressure to his throat, both men too stubborn to back down.
"Oh, knock it off, both of you," Finch barked. "Mr. Reese, I suggest you not blow his head off, unless you want to start a diplomatic nightmare the likes of which you can't even begin to imagine. And you, Captain Reese, have a lot of nerve coming in here uninvited. I should let him shoot you."
"Let him?" Captain Reese repeated, finally lifting him arm and allowing Reese to take a ragged breath. "He takes orders from you?"
"He works for me," Finch said, ignoring the insult in his choice of words as the two Reeses climbed to their feet. Captain Reese held out his hand for his weapon; Reese looked like he was still tempted to use it, but after a moment he handed it over.
Reese glanced at Finch. "What the hell is going on here?"
Finch sighed. "You might want to have a seat." He explained what he knew about the alternate universe, which wasn't much, and Captain Reese did not feel the need to fill in the blanks. "As to why he's here, I don't have a clue," Finch finished, turning to regard Captain Reese, who was standing before the cracked pane of glass where photos of their previous number still hung. Finch hadn't gotten around to taking them down yet.
"I came here for information," Captain Reese said. "For the past six years, I've been hunting a man we know only as the Raven. He's highly intelligent and completely sociopathic, the kind of man you can refer to as an evil genius and still keep a straight face. He does most of his criminal activity via technology, mostly computers and cell phones, but we've attributed at least four murders directly to him, with dozens more carried out by the men that work for him. He's stolen from banks, investment firms, private companies, government agencies; he's sold information to China, Russia, Iran; he's orchestrated kidnappings and political assassinations, and somehow, he manages to always stay one step ahead of us."
"What does this have to do with us?" Reese asked. Finch had a pretty good idea, but he said nothing, the just the possibility making him feel sick to his stomach.
"I'm getting to it," Captain Reese said. "A few months ago, we finally managed to lift a print off of a desk in a hotel the Raven used. It wasn't in the system, but one of our tech analysts suggested we run it on this side and what do you know, we got a hit."
Finch let out a relieved breath. His prints weren't in the system, either - not anymore.
"Not so fast," Captain Reese said with a knowing smirk. "You covered your tracks well, but our side has a little better data recovery software than yours."
Reese glanced back and forth between them. "What are you saying? Are you saying that Raven guy is...your version of Finch?"
"We know he is," Captain Reese said. "Using the information we uncovered about...Mr. Finch, we were able to track down records from before the Raven went off the grid. We have a pretty good idea of who he was and what made him the way he is, but-"
"Which is?" Finch asked.
Captain Reese regarded him for a moment, then glanced at Reese. "When he was nine, there was a car accident." Finch fought to keep his face impassive, knowing that both Reeses were watching him. "He lost both parents and his younger sister."
"Sister?" Finch repeated, feeling like all the breath had left his body. "What was her name?"
"Sarah, I think," Captain Reese said.
Finch closed his eyes, fighting back the lump in his throat. "My mother had a miscarriage when I was five." He quickly composed himself and looked up at Captain Reese. "After the accident, where did he go?"
"He was taken in by an uncle," Captain Reese said. "A Rodger Jameson, aka Lawrence Danburn, aka Peter Reynolds, and the list goes on. The man was a con artist, a thief, and a murderer, and we suspect he abused his nephew physically, emotionally, and psychologically."
Silence fell and Finch glanced up to find two pairs of intense blue-gray eyes focused expectantly on him. "Uncle Rodger was serving a life sentence at the time of the accident. I went into the foster system."
"Divergence," Captain Reese said, nodding. "The place where your paths split." He looked at Reese again, a thoughtful weight in his eyes. After a moment, he turned back to Finch. "There is evidence to suggest you may still have many things in common with him, which is why I'd like to discuss your current circumstances and preferences, places you frequent, things you like..."
"Good luck," Reese said. "He's a really private person."
"Oh, I think I can get him to talk," Captain Reese all but purred. "Over dinner, perhaps? Do you like Italian? You'll have to recommend a wine - I'm not much of a drinker."
Flustered, Finch didn't know what to say.
"Really..." Reese said, now giving his counterpart the same thoughtful look. "I think you and I should have a talk."
"I'll look forward to it," Captain Reese said, his smile broad and warm. "Maybe you could buy me a drink after I finish with your boss. It's the least you could do to make up for giving me this." He ran his finger along one cheekbone, red and already starting to bruise from where Reese elbowed him.
"It's a date," Reese replied with a smile.
Finch stared, nonplussed. He'd known that Reese would flirt with anyone - he'd been the victim of such looks often enough - but he'd never thought the man would flirt with himself. Would wonders never cease.
~*~*~*~
It wasn't hard to imagine Finch as a criminal mastermind, an evil genius as his doppelganger has said, but it was unsettling. Finch was a good man, one of the few that Reese had ever known, and the thought of what he would have had to experience in his formative years in order to become what Captain Reese claimed...
Reese scowled as he led his strange twin into the small back office that served as closet, infirmary, crash room, and weapon's locker. He didn't see why the captain couldn't find his own clothes, but as Finch had pointed out, they were the same size, and Reese had plenty of spare suits. As he pulled out a black suit and white shirt, he glanced over at the captain, who was examining one of Reese's assault rifles.
"So, what is it that the two of you do here, anyway?" Captain Reese asked.
"It's…complicated," Reese answered. "Why do you go by Reese? That's not our real name." The stranger with Reese's face turned around and began juggling tear gas grenades. Reese mouth quirked in a smile as he imagined the coronary Finch would have if he saw that.
"Before getting promoted to tracking down this cyber-criminal, I did a lot of undercover and intelligence work. My handler gave the name on our first mission and it stuck."
"Stanton?" Reese asked, holding out the clothing.
Captain Reese frowned. "No, his name was Davis. Don't you have something with some color in it?" He stepped past Reese and began rifling through the antique wardrobe. "I guess not- Wait, here we go."
Reese bristled as Captain Reese pulled out his favorite lavender shirt, but the other man just grinned.
"I bet we look severely fuckable in this," he said, holding the shirt up under Reese chin. "Yep."
Reese pushed the shirt away. "Quit screwing around." He started to leave.
"Hang on," the captain said. "I wanted to ask, what's the deal between you and your boss?"
"What do you mean? He's my employer-"
"And that's it? You're not sleeping with him?"
Taken aback, Reese struggled to find a response. "I'm not gay." He took a sudden, closer look at his counterpart. "Are you?"
"By definition, no. I like men and women, but if push came to shove, I'd pick dicks over tits any day."
"That's...more information than I needed," Reese said, turning to leave again.
"Wait," Captain Reese said with a laugh. "So you're not interested in Mr. Finch at all?"
"No."
"Then you don't mind if I give it a shot, do you?"
Reese snorted. "Knock yourself out, but try not to be too disappointed. He would never."
Captain Reese gave him a sly smile. "I wouldn't be too sure about that. I've been watching the two of you for quite some time, and it's obvious that he wants you bad, and I figured, it can't hurt that I look just like you. Who knows, after a few glasses of wine, maybe I can talk him into indulging in his fantasy."
"Isn't going to happen," Reese said, but he had to rely on his training to hide the fact that Captain Reese had unsettled him.
"You want to bet on it?"
"What are we betting?"
"Let's see, something good..." the captain said, running a hand back through his hair. "All right, if I can get him to kiss me, you have to buy me a drink and tell me all about yourself."
"All right," Reese said. He had planned on doing that anyway. Maybe not buying him a drink... "And if he turns you down-"
"Hang on, I'm not finished yet. If I can get him to sleep with me, you have to sleep with me, too."
"Excuse me?" Reese said. "That's- that's-"
"Narcissistic?"
"I was going to say sick, depraved, perverse-"
"Why? It's not like we're related. And come on, don't tell me you've never masturbated in front of the mirror."
Reese gave him a deadpan stare.
"That's just me, then?" Captain Reese said with a cheeky, unapologetic grin. Reese found himself both fascinated and repulsed. What sort of life had he led to make him this way? Where was their divergence? He needed to know, but he couldn't ask, he could hardly think it without a strange lump forming in his throat. Was she still alive?
"You look like you're thinking hard about something," Captain Reese said. "Trying to picture me naked? Here, maybe this will help." He peeled off his black T-shirt and tossed it onto the foot of the cot, revealing a lean and tanned torso, his abs a bit more clearly defined than Reese's own, he couldn't help but notice. He also couldn't help but notice the scars, pale silver and new pink, that marred the dark skin.
"How'd you get that?" Reese asked, taking a step closer to get a better look at the deep, old scar on his twin's chest, a line that nearly bisected his left nipple.
"Knife fight in Guatemala," the captain said. He turned showing Reese the back of his right upper arm. "Slipped climbing over a razor wire fence in Algeria." He unbuttoned his pants and shoved them down off his right hip, exposing a multitude of small silver scars on his flank. "Birdshot in Wisconsin."
Reese arched an eyebrow.
"Yes, I was shot in the ass while duck hunting. I'm guessing you didn't get to experience that particular teenage rite of passage."
"Never had the fortune," Reese replied. "Are we done here?"
"Not hardly," Captain Reese said, bending down and loosening the laces on his boots before toeing them off. He dropped his pants and stepped out of them, standing in the middle of the room in just his briefs. "What about our bet?"
Reese rolled his eyes. "You're an idiot if you think Finch will ever-"
"And you're an idiot if you turn down a sure bet, then, aren't you?"
"Fine, but when Finch laughs in your face, you're going to stop this nonsense, you're going to leave him and me alone, and you're going to get whatever information you need and go back to where you came from. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Captain Reese said, his grin far too smug for Reese's liking.
~*~*~*~
Finch arrived at the little Italian restaurant promptly at seven, paid the cab driver, and climbed out. Captain Reese was waiting beneath the awning, looking so much like Finch's Reese that when the captain smiled at him, a warm, broad smile without guile or reservation, for a moment, Finch felt his heart skip. He quickly mastered himself and took out his cell, sending Reese a quick text to inform him that he was turning off his phone, which he did next, going so far as to take out the battery to prevent eavesdropping. He wasn't sure what Captain Reese wanted to talk about, but he knew he'd feel better if he knew Reese wasn't listening in.
Putting the phone away, he approached the door, frowning as Captain Reese opened it for him. "I can do that myself," he said, limping past him into the foyer. Captain Reese caught up to him and reached past him, opening the inner door, too.
"I'm sure you can," Captain Reese said, his voice a low purr, "but a gentleman always opens the door for his date."
Finch turned stiffly to look up at him, his gaze drawn to the faded scar over his left eyebrow. "This is not a date," Finch said.
"I suppose that depends on your perspective," Captain Reese replied with another unabashed smile. Why couldn't Reese-
Finch pushed the compromising thought aside. It didn't matter. Reese didn't smile like that, perhaps couldn't, not after the things he'd witnessed, the things he'd done. Such warm smiles belonged to those who had never felt the darkness in their soul. Not people like Reese, or like Finch.
They entered the restaurant and were quickly seated, even without a reservation. About half of the tables were occupied, the floors were clean, the tablecloths neat, and the air smelled deliciously of fresh bread, tomatoes, basil, and grilled eggplant. The wine list was decent and Finch ordered a bottle of white while they perused the menu. After the server had taken their order and left, he tried to get down to business, to no avail.
"We have all night to talk about you," Captain Reese said. "First, I'd like to ask you a question about your Reese. Are you fucking him?"
"I beg your pardon?" Finch hissed through his teeth, glancing around to make sure no one had overheard. Thank God he'd thought to turn off his phone.
"I've seen the way he looks at you," Captain Reese continued, as though this were a perfectly acceptable topic of conversation. "I've been watching the two of you for quite some time. It's obvious that he has feelings for you."
It couldn't have been that obvious. Finch cleared his throat, busying himself with straightening his silverware on the table to avoid looking at Captain Reese. "How Mr. Reese feels or doesn't feel isn't any of your concern. I was under the impression that you came here to learn about the Raven."
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I can't satisfy my own curiosity while I'm here. I just asked because I don't want to come between you if there's anything-"
"There isn't," Finch said, then frowned. "What do you mean, come between us?"
"Well, if you're not sleeping with him, I'd like to be."
Finch stared at him, at a complete loss for words, the mental image of what Captain Reese was suggesting springing unbidden to his mind - two Reeses, naked, sweaty, grunting, moaning, gasping - Finch felt himself flush, his slacks growing tight across the groin and he forced the thought away.
"What your suggesting is-"
"Narcissistic?" Captain Reese said with a smirk.
"Well, yes, but I was going to say impossible. Reese would never."
"Want to bet?"
"I think I know the man better than you do, Captain."
"That man you're talking about is me."
"And that's where you are most wrong," Finch said with a small shake of his head. "I don't know you very well, but already I can tell that you and Reese are two very different people who happen to look alike."
"I disagree," Captain Reese said. "We may have had different experiences, but at the core, at the most basic level, we are the same, with the same desires and urges, the same wants and needs. I know those needs and desires intimately. I know what will turn him on and get him off. I know how to be the best he's ever had or will ever have, and I know he won't be able to resist, because I know I couldn't."
They fell silent as the wine arrived. Finch sampled it and nodded his approval, waiting until the glasses had been filled and the server departed before shaking his head again. "Trust me, because I know Reese, and he will never sleep with you. He had too many bad experiences with men while working for the CIA, whoring himself to get close to a target. He just won't, so save yourself the embarrassment and don't even ask." It was why Finch never had. It wasn't the only reason - he shifted his stiff leg to relieve the ache in his hip - but it was the main one.
"Who said anything about asking?" Captain Reese asked, a playful smile twisting his lips as he raised his wine glass to them. Finch glanced away. He was so like Reese in many ways, but not enough, not where it mattered. "So, what do you want to bet?"
Finch turned back to him. "Excuse me?"
"You say I can't get him into bed, I say I can - I think that needs a wager, don't you?"
"I don't gamble."
"Oh? I thought you sounded like it was a sure thing."
"It is-"
"Then what have you got to lose? I tell you what, if he turns me down, I promise to leave him and you alone for the remainder of my stay. Purely professional behavior, nothing more."
"Fine," Finch said, more than happy to agree to that.
Captain Reese smirked again. "All right, but if I can get him to kiss me, then you have to tell me how you really feel about him."
"I don't-"
"Hang on, I'm not done yet. If I can get him into bed with me, then you have to sleep with me, too."
"Me? Why?"
"He's not the only one that I'm curious about. Like I said, I've been watching you for a long time, doing whatever it is that you do, causing havoc and mayhem, but somehow always managing to save someone. I find you…fascinating and mysterious and I want to become more intimately acquainted."
Finch suppressed a shiver at the sultry suggestion in Captain Reese's voice. He wasn't Reese, but he looked like him, he sounded like him, he probably kissed and fucked like him, too, and would it really be such a crime to indulge a little?
Finch cleared his throat. "Not that anything is going to happen between the two of you, but say it does. I'm just supposed to take your word for it? Or will you bring me pictures?"
Captain Reese laughed. "No, I doubt I could get him to pose for you. I'm having a drink with him after dinner, so why don't you just hang around and keep an eye on us. That's what you do, isn't it? Watch people?"
Their dinner arrived and Captain Reese got down to business, his questions mostly professional, but even when they strayed into what Finch considered personal territory, he could understand the reasoning behind it. It was strange and uncomfortable to talk about himself so much, but otherwise the evening was pleasant enough.
"Thank you," Captain Reese said as they sat nursing a final glass of wine apiece, the dishes cleared and check placed quietly on the edge of the table. "This should help immensely. Maybe we can even figure out how he seems to know everything before it happens."
Finch shifted in his chair, both because of his stiff hip and because of the evasive answers he'd been giving all night whenever the subject of his daily activities came up. "I think I might have a theory about that," he said finally. "It's possible that the Raven has built a machine, a giant computer program that accesses all surveillance footage, all phone calls, all electronic communication, and sorts it, analyzes it, and predicts future events based on that information."
"That's not possible," Captain Reese said, shaking his head. "I mean, maybe for a company like Massive Dynamic, with nearly unlimited funds and resources and a whole team of programmers and engineers, but one man?"
"It's not as farfetched as you think," Finch said quietly, taking another sip of his wine. He could feel Captain Reese staring at him, and slowly he raised his gaze, meeting dark blue eyes.
"Is that-"
"Don't bother finishing the sentence, Captain," Finch said. "That particular topic is not open for discussion, I was merely suggesting something to look into on your side." He pulled a stack of cash out of his jacket pocket and peeled off a couple of hundreds.
"Hey, I'm supposed to be buying dinner," Captain Reese protested. "I asked you out, remember."
"This wasn't a date," Finch said, speaking through his teeth. He tucked the bills in with the check and stood up, wincing slightly as his lower back gave a twinge. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do."
"I'll walk out with you," Captain Reese said, draining his glass in a single gulp and standing up. They headed for the door, the alternate Reese walking just at Finch's elbow, close enough that Finch was acutely aware of his presence. Perhaps it was just the wine, but he found himself thinking about that stupid bet again, the odds and the outcomes. Captain Reese opened the doors for him again, but his annoyance was more feigned than anything. Out on the street, the sky above was black, the streetlights and headlights casting the city into splashes and pools of light and shadow.
Finch glanced around for a taxi, surprised when Captain Reese stepped close behind him, hands lighting on his hips and warm breath sliding down under his collar. "You smell good," Reese whispered. But it wasn't Reese, it was the other Reese, and he was practically a stranger. That didn't stop Finch's heart from pounding, or his skin from heating up, or his mouth from going dry.
"What are you doing?" Finch asked.
"Trying to resist the urge to take you back to my hotel room and ravish you all night long, to hell with our bet. You wouldn't complain if I wanted to suck your cock, would you?"
Finch swallowed hard. "Isn't Mr. Reese expecting you?"
"I think he'll get over it."
"Captain-" Finch gasped, feeling lips brush the side of his neck, just beneath his ear.
"Kiss me," Captain Reese whispered. "Give me that, at least."
Finch pulled away from him, looking in vain for a cab, his heart racing, thumping at the base of his throat, making it hard to breathe. He had to get out of there before he did something stupid- Oh, fuck it. He turned around, one hand grabbing the lapel of Captain Reese's jacket, steadying himself as he stretched up to meet the soft lips of the other man. He closed his eyes, knowing it was wrong to imagine that he was with Reese - the real Reese - but he couldn't stop himself. His mouth opened, his tongue sliding along Reese's lower lip, making him groan.
Then Reese - Captain Reese pulled back, looking down at him, his face cast in shadow by the streetlight behind him. "Tell me that was me you were kissing and not him."
Finch looked away, suddenly disgusted with himself. "I'm sorry," he said.
Captain Reese just chuckled. "Don't be. I'd have been shocked if it was." His warm hand cupped Finch's cheek, gently coaxing his head up. Captain Reese leaned down, kissing him softly before stepping back. "You better be watching," he said, raising his arm and hailing a passing cab, "because now I really want to know how you feel about him." He opened the door and Finch climbed inside, a nervous fluttering in the pit of his stomach as he looked out through the window at Captain Reese, picturing him kissing his counterpart. The odds were so slim they were almost non-existent, but there was no way in hell Finch wouldn't be watching, just in case.
~*~*~*~
Reese watched the taxi pull away from the curb, carrying its lone occupant off to places unknown. He stood for a moment in the darkness of the alley across the street, then stepped out, making his way through traffic as Captain Reese waited on the sidewalk under the awning of the restaurant, grinning at him like the cat who'd swallowed the canary.
"Looks like you owe me a drink," the captain said.
Reese didn't respond. He wasn't sure what he would say or do if he did. A great tangled mass of emotion was churning inside him, anger and jealousy and confusion, making it hard to think. That was why he didn't let himself have emotions.
"C'mon," Reese said finally with a jerk of his head. "There's a quiet little bar just up the street." He started walking without waiting for a response. After what he just saw, he needed a drink.
Captain Reese fell into step beside him, his gait much looser, more relaxed and fluid, Reese noticed. "He was thinking about you, you know," the captain said after a moment. "I asked him."
"Can we not talk about that?" Reese growled through his teeth.
"All right. I wanted to talk about you, anyway. Why aren't you all over that? He's adorable in a dorky genius sort of way, he looks fucking fine in those suits, and he's crazy about you. So what's wrong with you?"
"I'm not gay," Reese snapped.
"So? Do things work differently over here? Do you have to sign up somewhere, gay or straight? Is it written on your driver's license - height, weight, eye color, sexual preference? Is it tattooed on your dick - for pussy only?"
Reese gave him a dark look. "No."
"Then what is your problem? You don't have to be gay. Life isn't black or white, gay or straight, it's all shades of gray. That's the beauty of it. You don't have to choose. You may have never felt that way about a man, and you may never feel that way again, but you can't tell me it didn't royally piss you off to see me kissing him."
Reese just scowled and kept walking.
"Or is it something else?" Captain Reese asked, his voice low. "Did you try it once and decide you didn't like it? Because it's not fair to judge every man based on one bad blowjob-"
Reese didn't even realize he wanted to slam the captain against the nearest wall until after he'd done it, his hands balled into fists gripping Captain Reese's borrowed jacket, his face inches from one that looked so much like his own. "It wasn't once, it was dozens of times, to get close to assets, to gain their trust, to learn their secrets, to kill them - arms dealers and human traffickers and terrorists - men whose presence made me feel physically ill, men I had to suck off, men who fucked me in the ass, men that were a pleasure to kill."
"Men that aren't me or Finch," Captain Reese said quietly. "Do you really think he'd do what they did, that he'd make you feel like they did?"
Reese let him go and turned away, shaking inside as he ran a hand back through his hair. "I- I don't know - No, he wouldn't, but...I don't want him to become associated with those memories, and- and I don't know if I could keep them separate."
"I didn't know," Captain Reese said after a moment. "I'm sorry."
Reese ignored him. He didn't need sympathy.
"C'mon," the captain said after a moment, clapping him on the back in a friendly way. "The first drink's on me and I promise not to ask any more personal questions." Reese hesitated, then led him down the street to a corner bar. It was dark inside, most of the light coming from the flickering neon beer signs and the lamps hanging over the pool tables. The bar was old and scarred, the jukebox broken since the nineties, and the security cameras in the corners just for show. It was where he frequently came to get away from the prying eyes of Finch and his Machine, though he rarely drank anything harder than a beer. Tonight, he ordered whiskey.
Reese threw it back and signaled for another, then led his counterpart over to a table in the corner where they wouldn't be overheard. He even turned off his phone, figuring turnabout was fair play and if Finch didn't like it...to hell with him.
"So, what's on your mind?" Captain Reese asked.
Reese stared down at the table, his gaze tracing the wood grain just visible beneath years of grime. "Jessica," he said finally. "Is she alive on your side?"
"Who?"
Reese's head snapped up, ready to kill him - diplomatic nightmare be damned - if this was some kind of joke, but Captain Reese looked genuinely confused. "Jessica. I met her in high school, we dated through college and while I was in the service. I loved her..."
"Oh, Jessica from high school," the other Reese said, nodding. "We never dated. I thought she was pretty, but she hooked up with this other guy. What was his name...Michael- No, Marcus. Marcus Standridge. I think they might have gotten married."
"Marcus..." Reese frowned. The name sounded familiar, but he didn't remember anyone named Marcus in high school. He thought back further. "I knew Marcus in junior high, but he went to Montana with his father after his parents divorced."
"And my Marcus stayed with his mother," Captain Reese said.
"Divergence..." Reese muttered, finishing his whiskey. Then something occurred to him. "It's my fault she's dead. In your world, she's alive because she was never with me. It's my fault."
"You can't know that," Captain Reese said, shaking his head. "I don't know if she even is alive, and there have been countless decisions made since that moment in time. You can't know, but you'll drive yourself crazy if you keep thinking about it. Now come on, ask me something else."
But that was all Reese wanted to know. Nothing else mattered. He walked out of the bar and was halfway up the block when he heard running footsteps behind him.
"John, wait," Captain Reese said, catching up with him. Reese didn't slow his stride one bit. "You do prefer John, right? That's what Finch calls you sometimes. Personally, I like Jack-"
"What do you want?" Reese snarled.
"Look, I'm sorry that wasn't what you wanted to hear. I'm sorry my life isn't everything you've dreamed of, but we've got real problems to deal with. I screwed up when I kissed Finch. I didn't think it would hurt anything, that you'd come around after a few nudges in the right direction, but I didn't know you'd been traumatized by your past experiences, and now that he's had a taste he's going to want more, he's going to want the real thing, and it's going to ruin this partnership that the two of you have, and that was never my intention."
"You're giving yourself too much credit," Reese said. "It was just a kiss. Finch will get over it. He's probably forgotten all about it already."
"Wanna bet?" Captain Reese asked. "You weren't close enough to see him trembling, to hear the need in his voice, to feel the desperation in his kiss. He wants you, and you're too emotionally scarred-"
"Would you shut up," Reese said, his voice low. "There's nothing wrong with me."
"Prove it. Kiss me."
Reese turned away, disgusted.
"I was right," Captain Reese said, sounding smug. "They broke you-"
Reese slammed him against the wall again, knocking the wind out of him, but Captain Reese just laughed, a breathless chuckle, and didn't even try to break away.
"Did I hit a nerve there, John?" he asked. "You don't have to admit it to me, but at least stop lying to yourself. You want him, too, but you're scared, and that pisses you off, that those horrible men could still have so much power over you long after they're nothing but dust. Show them - show me - that you're stronger than that. Kiss me. You'll see."
Reese kissed him, just to shut him up, covering his mouth, capturing his lips, pressing him harder against the wall, his fingers digging into the captain's upper arms. He was surprised to feel a hand in the middle of his chest, pushing against him. He jerked back, out of breath, his lips tingling. "What?"
"It's a kiss, not an assault," Captain Reese said. "You do that to Finch, you're going to hurt him. Go slow; be gentle."
His heart thumping in his chest, Reese leaned forward, hesitating before brushing his lips against the captain's. He thought of Finch, with his stiff neck and rigid shoulders and determined limp, never complaining about the pain that Reese saw him in every day. It was amazing how someone so fragile could be so tough. But Captain Reese was right. Hurting Finch was the last thing he wanted to do. It was one of the reasons he'd ignored his feelings toward the other man, even if it wasn't the main one.
He stiffened as he felt large, warm hands slide beneath his jacket, touching him through his shirt, but he didn't pull away. This wasn't anything like what he'd gone through before. But then, those men hadn't been interested in kissing. His lips parted and he heard and felt his counterpart groan as he slid his tongue into Captain Reese's mouth, tasting the wine and tomato sauce from his dinner with Finch. Those arms wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer, and he drew a sharp breath as he felt a hand touch the butt of his gun.
Captain Reese drew back, grinning at him. "Why, John, is that a gun in your pants or are you enjoying this as much as I am?" He pulled Reese up against him and Reese blinked, startled by the hard bulge in the front of Captain Reese's trousers. He started to step back, but the captain grabbed him, jerking him off balance and exchanging places with him, the cold wall of the building against Reese's back and his twin's hands against his chest.
"Relax, John; you're going to like this."
Reese stared at him, feeling like he should put a stop to this, but he didn't move as Captain Reese slid his hands down Reese's chest, to his belt, and quickly unbuckled it. The button and zipper were next, and Reese's gaze drifted down, following the captain as he dropped to his knees. Reese gave a muted grunt, glancing up and down the sidewalk as his cock was engulfed in a hot, wet mouth, but this was one of the quieter corners of the city. The only eyes watching them were the cold, staring lenses of traffic and security cameras. Briefly, he wondered if Finch was watching, but that was rather self-centered. Surely the man had better things to do.
Reese leaned his head back against the brick, breathing hard as skilled lips and tongue teased him to hardness, stroking all his most sensitive places and making his legs feel weak. Captain Reese alternated between suckling the head and sliding down the shaft, taking Reese nearly to the back of his throat. The captain moaned, making obscene slurping noises as he drew back, squeezing the crown with his lips as his tongue probed the slit. Reese panted, his hands balling into fists as he felt the pleasure gather in his groin, growing heavy and insistent, the pressure building, his balls drawing up.
He cried out, his hips jerking as he came, the orgasm thundering through him. When his head stopped spinning, he glanced down at the man before him, licking his lips and wiping a smear of white off his chin with the back of his hand.
"I don't mind swallowing," Captain Reese said, tucking Reese's spent cock back into his trousers and zipping him up, "but it's considered polite to give a bit more warning." He stood back up, wearing a Cheshire cat grin. "Well? That wasn't so bad, now was it?"
Reese didn't answer. He finished putting his clothes in order and walked away. He wasn't sure how he felt about what had just happened.
"Well, if you won't take me home with you," Captain Reese called after him, "I suppose I'll have to pay Harold a visit, instead. He's probably back at his library, don't you think? Workaholic, that one. You need to get him to relax a bit more often. Or maybe I can. I'll let you know. See you in the morning, John."
Reese just ignored him and kept walking. He was bluffing, trying to get a reaction out of him. Finch would never- But then, Reese had sworn Finch would never kiss the captain, either. His steps faltered. Would Finch sleep with him? Would he, because he really wanted Reese? Would he break down, give in, and turn to the wrong Reese? The captain didn't know anything about him - nothing that mattered anyway. He didn't care about him, didn't lay awake at night thinking about him, didn't worry whenever he went into the field. This was just a game, a conquest to him.
And Reese would be damned if he was going to let Finch get hurt like that.
~*~*~*~
Finch was waiting when Captain Reese arrived back at the library. He sat quietly in one of the old wingback leather chairs from one of the library reading lounges, sipping a cup of tea and trying not to let on how close the two Reeses had come to giving him a coronary. The captain strode down the hall with all of Reese's grace and quite a bit more swagger, a very self-satisfied smirk on his face.
"Were you watching?" Captain Reese asked.
Finch took another sip of his tea, trying to calm the last of his nerves. "I was," he said finally. "I suppose you're proud of yourself." If his disapproval was supposed to shame Captain Reese, it didn't work. His smirk broadened into a cheeky grin.
"Extremely," Captain Reese said. "He's a bit rusty in the kissing department, but he's a very fast learner. I think you'd enjoy teaching him a thing or two."
Finch cleared his throat, determined not to even entertain such a notion. "You're here to collect on our bet, I presume?"
"Among other things," Captain Reese said, pulling out his phone and glancing at the screen. "But first, I need to check in with my superiors. Excuse me for a moment." He walked out and Finch breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for the respite, however brief it might be. He mulled over his answer to the captain's question, trying to decide how he had felt, watching that stranger kiss Reese. Jealous, he decided. Envious. Kissing the captain had been a nice facsimile, but he wanted the real thing.
He glanced up as Reese stalked back up the hall toward him. His conversation with his superior must not have went well; his steps were tight and angry. He stopped in the doorway, silent, waiting. Finch took a deep breath.
"I want him," Finch said simply. "He is the most courageous, selfless, handsome, broken man that I have ever known and every fiber of my being aches to help him, to heal him, but I know what he went through - some of it, anyway - at the hands of those men, and I wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to be touched by another man for the rest of his life. By forcing him to do what he did, you only proved just how much he's willing to put up with, but I don't want to be 'put up with'. I want him to want me, too, absurd as that sounds."
"Why is that absurd?" Captain Reese asked, his voice soft.
Finch snorted. "Look at me, Captain. I'm an old man with a bum leg who changes his clothes with his back to the mirror. Even I don't want to look at me." Embarrassed by his candor, Finch glanced away. "And if you mention a word of this to him, I'll send you back to your universe in pieces."
A tense silence settled over the room, broken suddenly by footsteps in the hall. Captain Reese turned as Reese sauntered in, a smug smile on his- Oh, fuck no. Finch glanced back and forth between the two men, suddenly unable to tell them apart. His heart began to race, panic like a heavy weight on his chest. His gaze settled on the silvered scar above Captain Reese's left eyebrow as the captain grinned at him.
"What did I miss?" he asked.
Reese grabbed him by the throat and slammed him back against the cinder block wall, teeth bared as he snarled, "You knew he'd think I was you!"
"It's not my fault he can't tell us apart," Captain Reese said, his words strangled, but no less amused. Reese let go of him and stalked away; Finch watched him go with a sick, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Captain Reese rubbed at his neck and glanced at Finch. "He's wound a bit tight tonight."
Finch just stared at him, shaking inside, and for the first time in his life, he wished he had a gun. He turned and walked away, down one of the little-used, secondary corridors, no idea where he was going, but he couldn't stand to be in the same room with that man for another second.
"Hey, Finch, hang on," Captain Reese called after him. Finch glanced around, suddenly realizing that this short hall only led to offices and storage rooms, not out of the building. He could hear the captain's footsteps behind him and he ducked into one of the small rooms, slamming the wooden door behind him. The lock was a simple sliding bolt, but he threw it and leaned back against the door, knowing that the alternate Reese would have no trouble muscling his way in if he really wanted to.
Captain Reese knocked on the door. "Finch- Harold, c'mon, don't be angry. I was just trying to help. He needed to know. He wants you, too, he's just afraid. You need to take point on this one."
Finch closed his eyes, groaning softly to himself. Like he knew anything about wooing a prospective mate. Nathan had pursued him, a fact he'd been oblivious to for months, and Grace…How such a beautiful, intelligent woman had fallen for him was still a mystery. A case of two lonely souls, perhaps. Finch just didn't have the people skills to court Reese.
"Harold, I can fix this, but I don't have a lot of time. I'm scheduled to return to my universe at ten A.M. tomorrow. You'll probably never see me again."
Thank God. Finch opened his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Once the captain was gone, he and Reese could go back to the way things were. They were good at pretending that nothing had happened, like with Finch's involuntary experimentation with Ecstasy. What had happened that night - and what had almost happened - was never mentioned. That was the way it should be, the way it needed to be.
"Harold," Captain Reese rumbled, his voice low and sultry, "I'm getting laid tonight, one way or another, so if you won't open this door, I'm going to have to pay John a visit, and I think we both know how that will turn out."
Finch shuddered at the dark, smoldering sex in his voice, his heart beating faster as one sweaty hand clutched at the doorknob. He couldn't. His body ached, longing to feel those big hands moving over his skin, but he just couldn't. He wanted Reese, not some fast and loose imitation.
"All right, if that's how you want it," the captain said with a sigh. "Thank you for your help. This might be the break we've been needing and if I don't see you again…don't give up on John. He needs you."
Finch listened to the retreating footsteps until they faded into silence. Even then, he didn't trust that the man was really gone. He lingered in the small storage closet for several more minutes before venturing out, but he need not have worried. Captain Reese had left. With a sigh, he limped out and sat down at his computer, trying to remember what he'd been doing before his night had been interrupted. He stared at his blank screen, trying not to think about the events of the past ten minutes. They just needed to forget it. It was best for everyone.
Part 2