New POI Fic: "When You're Smiling"
When You’re Smiling
I wrote this last week and with getting ready for Farpoint convention this weekend, I didn't get it up. I thought I should before tonight's new ep airs. There will be a sequel.
title: "When You're Smiling"
characters/pairings: John Reese/Harold Finch
rating: PG-13
summary: Finch and Reese take Bear for his playdate
word count: 1878
warnings/contents: Spoilers through "One Percent". Betaed by esteefee.
When You're Smiling
by April Valentine
John is smiling again, Finch notes. Smiling and laughing at Bear and his “date”.
When did he go from thinking of him as “John” instead of “Mr. Reese”? When did John’s smiles become so frequent? When did Finch begin to long for those smiles?
He has difficulty smiling himself. It’s been so long since he’s been able to. Longer, he knows, than it has been since John could smile openly, free of the pain that prevented those smiles for such a long time. He’s always been private, always kept his secrets from those he most cared about, but now, he knows he should open up more, say things to John...smile at him more at least. Finch wonders if John noticed that he smiled as Bear bounded off with his doggy date.
That morning when John returned to the library and Bear greeted him - knocked him down to the floor with joy - John looked up and gave Finch the most open, unguarded, truly happy smile Finch had ever seen from him.
It made his heart twinge. It felt good to see John happy again, after all he’d just been through.
Finch knew he should have returned it fully. Should have shared that true joy with John. He’d tried, but he knew that the slight upward curve of his lips he’d managed to offer in response wasn’t adequate. He’d seen John notice that.
But John didn’t ask. It was obvious he’d grown used to Finch’s inadequacies by now. Finch was grateful for that. It kept John from asking questions Finch didn’t want to be asked.
It kept him from hurting John.
And there are so many ways he could hurt him. Finch is an expert at many things. He’s proud of his expertise with computers, with money. But other things he excels at doing he takes no pride in at all.
They make their way to a bench and sit side by side. Reese pulls out a box wrapped in red leather and hands it to him.
“Our billionaire gave me a little something,” Reese explains.
Finch opens it and recognizes the brand of watch and how much it must have cost. “Well.”
Why hasn’t he thought of something like that? He knew John liked the watch he already had but...
“Tells time to the nanosecond,” Reese says as though that’s the big deal.
But there’s a bigger deal. Finch puts the watch on the ground and steps on it, hard.
Reese looks at him, but as always, covers any shock with a placid expression.
“That was a very expensive watch,” he says mildly. “Not to mention a gift.”
“A gift equipped with GPS.” Finch extracts the tiny transponder and extends it for John to see. “A cunning billionaire with unlimited resources... Our friend is just curious enough to be dangerous.” Finch glances around them suspiciously, worried that even then, they were being observed, plotted against.
John moves closer. “It’s all right, Harold. I’m here. We’re out in the open. We’re safe.”
Finch sighs, allowing his body to lean ever so slightly closer to John’s. He has John’s devotion, even more since the bomb vest, the rooftop. But does he deserve John’s protection, friendship?
Holding the GPS transponder his mind goes back to the past, once again detailing the hurts for which he was responsible, worrying about the ones he might become responsible for in the near future.
Finch hurt Nathan, by disagreeing with him about the irrelevants, by not telling him about his personal life, by doing other things he never told Nathan about... things that might have prevented Nathan’s death. He’s tried to make up for that, but that doesn’t mitigate his guilt.
Finch hurt Grace by disappearing from her life, by making her think he was dead. He tries to tell himself he did it for the right reasons, but Grace never knew all about him, never knew who he really was. He often wonders if telling her the truth and simply breaking up with her would have hurt her less than making her grieve, but he hadn’t been strong enough to do that for her. The excuse of trying to protect her isn’t good enough and making sure she continues to find work doesn’t make up for what his hubris.
Nathan and Grace, the two people Finch most cared about... but the pleasant memories are overshadowed by his betrayal of them. He was terrified he’d do that to John.
Finch promised John from the beginning that he would never lie to him. But he had. He’d told John on his birthday there was no number when in fact he’d been trying to protect him from his “sensitivities.” John had apparently forgiven him for that. And Finch had tried to make it up to him.
Even before that, Finch wasn’t as forthcoming as he could have been with John about the backdoor to the Machine... but it had seemed pointless to bring up his deceased partner and go into extraneous details when he was trying to explain those complicated issues to a man he’d just met.
There was more though, the things he knew about Reese and the ways their lives had converged before they ever met face to face. Things he wishes he’d done differently. He put them out of his mind for a long time. But they are starting to come back.
John is leaning still closer. “Harold? Are you all right?”
Finch doesn’t answer. He suppresses a shudder.
Seeing Stanton’s number come up had started it. There wasn’t any information in the dossier he gave to Fusco and Carter about her activities after Ordos... but as always, there were things he’d left out of that file.
“Bear’s having a good time,” Reese says, as if everything is perfectly all right.
“Yes, he seems to be.” It’s not so hard to force the words out. To keep pretending.
But Finch’s mind won’t stop working, worrying.
There are so many things he’s not certain about. How much did Stanton know? Why was she here and using John? What was her real motive and who was she working for?
And did it have to do, in any way, with Finch himself? His blood runs cold when he thinks about that possibility. When the Machine left his and Nathan’s hands, despite their making sure no one could ever tamper with it, there had always been the chance for someone with impure motives, unpatriotic motives, to subvert the good they had tried to do in building it. And Finch knows there are no coincidences.
And this week, this number? Things Pierce said and did hit a little too close to home. Some friendships aren’t made to last. Finch knows that’s true but he hopes his friendship with John isn’t in that category. He wants it to last. He wants it to be more.
They will only be able to do what they’re doing for so long before it ends. And there’s no doubt in his mind that the end will be messy. If he could have gone out with John on that roof, maybe that would have been for the best.
No, he’s got to stop thinking that way. Negativity will only hinder his work. Will only cause John more concern.
“I know what you’re doing, Harold,” John says, nearly whispering.
“What’s that?” Finch hopes his voice isn’t too brittle, too nervous.
I don’t want to lie to you, John, Finch wants to say. But the words stick in his throat. I thought I wasn’t lying to you. But I was lying to myself. I do it every day. And because of that, I’m lying to you too.
John stretches out his arm along the back of the bench, almost but not quite a public embrace. “You’re the one who’s been anxious at home, right? That’s why Bear’s been under the weather.”
Finch nods unhappily. “I’m sorry.”
The guilt is always there, eating away at him the way his injuries sabotage his ability to move as freely as he once did. He found out too late that he was making a mistake and his body paid the price, pays it every day still. He accepts that price but he can’t accept the cost of losing John if... No, he just won’t think about that.
John shifts to hold his gaze. “Nothing to be sorry about. I have another question though.”
“What’s that?”
John reaches out and takes Finch’s hand. “What’s with the ring?”
Finch is completely flummoxed. He’d forgotten all about it. And he feels his face getting warm.
“A new... cover identity,” he says stiffly.
“Another one? For a dog play date?” John looks bemused.
“When I spoke to Ms. Waring, the lady who owns the other dog, she seemed... curious about my marital status.”
“You told her you were married?”
Finch nods, feeling foolish. He can’t meet John’s eyes.
There’s a pause and he knows the wheels are turning in John’s head. “No. Finch? Really?”
“What do you mean -- ?”
“I’m flattered, Harold. I really am.” John’s voice is sweet in his ear, intimate. “Is that the real reason you broke the watch? Are you the only billionaire allowed to give me expensive gifts?”
“Mr. Reese!”
John just laughs. He’s still holding Finch’s hand, and now his fingers move caressingly over the ring. He shifts closer. “We wouldn’t want to blow our cover,” he teases.
Finch reflexively starts to shift away, but the arm Reese threw over the back of the bench moves fast to wrap itself around his shoulder. “It’s all right. Legal and everything in this state.” Before Finch can do or say another word, Reese is nuzzling his sideburn.
Ms. Waring comes up with her own dog and Bear. Reese leans back casually as though he’d been doing nothing out of the ordinary. He snaps his fingers and Bear sits at his side. When Finch makes himself glance up at her, he sees from her expression she thinks they are adorable. He wants to die.
John makes small talk for them and they agree that Bear can meet with Sasha again next week. Ms. Warning leashes her dog and walks away. John turns back to look at Finch.
“Don’t look so worried, Harold. Your virtue is safe with me.” Reese takes his arm from around him and leans back, looking pleased with himself.
Finch is suddenly so tired. He’s exhausted. So many secrets, so many lies of omission.
They are living on borrowed time. The next number could be their last.
He takes a deep breath, turns to John.
“What if I don’t want it to be safe?” he asks, allowing his voice to drop into a seldom-used lower register.
The ball is in John’s court now. He can play it off as a simple joke or he can take Finch at his word.
John’s eyes are so deeply blue, his lashes so dark and full. They make shadows on John’s cheeks when his gaze drops to Finch’s lips.
“Not here, John,” Finch whispers breathlessly.
John’s face breaks into one of his beautiful smiles. He stands up. “Come on, Bear. We’re going home.” He doesn’t let go of Finch’s hand the whole way back to the library.
I wrote this last week and with getting ready for Farpoint convention this weekend, I didn't get it up. I thought I should before tonight's new ep airs. There will be a sequel.
title: "When You're Smiling"
characters/pairings: John Reese/Harold Finch
rating: PG-13
summary: Finch and Reese take Bear for his playdate
word count: 1878
warnings/contents: Spoilers through "One Percent". Betaed by esteefee.
When You're Smiling
by April Valentine
John is smiling again, Finch notes. Smiling and laughing at Bear and his “date”.
When did he go from thinking of him as “John” instead of “Mr. Reese”? When did John’s smiles become so frequent? When did Finch begin to long for those smiles?
He has difficulty smiling himself. It’s been so long since he’s been able to. Longer, he knows, than it has been since John could smile openly, free of the pain that prevented those smiles for such a long time. He’s always been private, always kept his secrets from those he most cared about, but now, he knows he should open up more, say things to John...smile at him more at least. Finch wonders if John noticed that he smiled as Bear bounded off with his doggy date.
That morning when John returned to the library and Bear greeted him - knocked him down to the floor with joy - John looked up and gave Finch the most open, unguarded, truly happy smile Finch had ever seen from him.
It made his heart twinge. It felt good to see John happy again, after all he’d just been through.
Finch knew he should have returned it fully. Should have shared that true joy with John. He’d tried, but he knew that the slight upward curve of his lips he’d managed to offer in response wasn’t adequate. He’d seen John notice that.
But John didn’t ask. It was obvious he’d grown used to Finch’s inadequacies by now. Finch was grateful for that. It kept John from asking questions Finch didn’t want to be asked.
It kept him from hurting John.
And there are so many ways he could hurt him. Finch is an expert at many things. He’s proud of his expertise with computers, with money. But other things he excels at doing he takes no pride in at all.
They make their way to a bench and sit side by side. Reese pulls out a box wrapped in red leather and hands it to him.
“Our billionaire gave me a little something,” Reese explains.
Finch opens it and recognizes the brand of watch and how much it must have cost. “Well.”
Why hasn’t he thought of something like that? He knew John liked the watch he already had but...
“Tells time to the nanosecond,” Reese says as though that’s the big deal.
But there’s a bigger deal. Finch puts the watch on the ground and steps on it, hard.
Reese looks at him, but as always, covers any shock with a placid expression.
“That was a very expensive watch,” he says mildly. “Not to mention a gift.”
“A gift equipped with GPS.” Finch extracts the tiny transponder and extends it for John to see. “A cunning billionaire with unlimited resources... Our friend is just curious enough to be dangerous.” Finch glances around them suspiciously, worried that even then, they were being observed, plotted against.
John moves closer. “It’s all right, Harold. I’m here. We’re out in the open. We’re safe.”
Finch sighs, allowing his body to lean ever so slightly closer to John’s. He has John’s devotion, even more since the bomb vest, the rooftop. But does he deserve John’s protection, friendship?
Holding the GPS transponder his mind goes back to the past, once again detailing the hurts for which he was responsible, worrying about the ones he might become responsible for in the near future.
Finch hurt Nathan, by disagreeing with him about the irrelevants, by not telling him about his personal life, by doing other things he never told Nathan about... things that might have prevented Nathan’s death. He’s tried to make up for that, but that doesn’t mitigate his guilt.
Finch hurt Grace by disappearing from her life, by making her think he was dead. He tries to tell himself he did it for the right reasons, but Grace never knew all about him, never knew who he really was. He often wonders if telling her the truth and simply breaking up with her would have hurt her less than making her grieve, but he hadn’t been strong enough to do that for her. The excuse of trying to protect her isn’t good enough and making sure she continues to find work doesn’t make up for what his hubris.
Nathan and Grace, the two people Finch most cared about... but the pleasant memories are overshadowed by his betrayal of them. He was terrified he’d do that to John.
Finch promised John from the beginning that he would never lie to him. But he had. He’d told John on his birthday there was no number when in fact he’d been trying to protect him from his “sensitivities.” John had apparently forgiven him for that. And Finch had tried to make it up to him.
Even before that, Finch wasn’t as forthcoming as he could have been with John about the backdoor to the Machine... but it had seemed pointless to bring up his deceased partner and go into extraneous details when he was trying to explain those complicated issues to a man he’d just met.
There was more though, the things he knew about Reese and the ways their lives had converged before they ever met face to face. Things he wishes he’d done differently. He put them out of his mind for a long time. But they are starting to come back.
John is leaning still closer. “Harold? Are you all right?”
Finch doesn’t answer. He suppresses a shudder.
Seeing Stanton’s number come up had started it. There wasn’t any information in the dossier he gave to Fusco and Carter about her activities after Ordos... but as always, there were things he’d left out of that file.
“Bear’s having a good time,” Reese says, as if everything is perfectly all right.
“Yes, he seems to be.” It’s not so hard to force the words out. To keep pretending.
But Finch’s mind won’t stop working, worrying.
There are so many things he’s not certain about. How much did Stanton know? Why was she here and using John? What was her real motive and who was she working for?
And did it have to do, in any way, with Finch himself? His blood runs cold when he thinks about that possibility. When the Machine left his and Nathan’s hands, despite their making sure no one could ever tamper with it, there had always been the chance for someone with impure motives, unpatriotic motives, to subvert the good they had tried to do in building it. And Finch knows there are no coincidences.
And this week, this number? Things Pierce said and did hit a little too close to home. Some friendships aren’t made to last. Finch knows that’s true but he hopes his friendship with John isn’t in that category. He wants it to last. He wants it to be more.
They will only be able to do what they’re doing for so long before it ends. And there’s no doubt in his mind that the end will be messy. If he could have gone out with John on that roof, maybe that would have been for the best.
No, he’s got to stop thinking that way. Negativity will only hinder his work. Will only cause John more concern.
“I know what you’re doing, Harold,” John says, nearly whispering.
“What’s that?” Finch hopes his voice isn’t too brittle, too nervous.
I don’t want to lie to you, John, Finch wants to say. But the words stick in his throat. I thought I wasn’t lying to you. But I was lying to myself. I do it every day. And because of that, I’m lying to you too.
John stretches out his arm along the back of the bench, almost but not quite a public embrace. “You’re the one who’s been anxious at home, right? That’s why Bear’s been under the weather.”
Finch nods unhappily. “I’m sorry.”
The guilt is always there, eating away at him the way his injuries sabotage his ability to move as freely as he once did. He found out too late that he was making a mistake and his body paid the price, pays it every day still. He accepts that price but he can’t accept the cost of losing John if... No, he just won’t think about that.
John shifts to hold his gaze. “Nothing to be sorry about. I have another question though.”
“What’s that?”
John reaches out and takes Finch’s hand. “What’s with the ring?”
Finch is completely flummoxed. He’d forgotten all about it. And he feels his face getting warm.
“A new... cover identity,” he says stiffly.
“Another one? For a dog play date?” John looks bemused.
“When I spoke to Ms. Waring, the lady who owns the other dog, she seemed... curious about my marital status.”
“You told her you were married?”
Finch nods, feeling foolish. He can’t meet John’s eyes.
There’s a pause and he knows the wheels are turning in John’s head. “No. Finch? Really?”
“What do you mean -- ?”
“I’m flattered, Harold. I really am.” John’s voice is sweet in his ear, intimate. “Is that the real reason you broke the watch? Are you the only billionaire allowed to give me expensive gifts?”
“Mr. Reese!”
John just laughs. He’s still holding Finch’s hand, and now his fingers move caressingly over the ring. He shifts closer. “We wouldn’t want to blow our cover,” he teases.
Finch reflexively starts to shift away, but the arm Reese threw over the back of the bench moves fast to wrap itself around his shoulder. “It’s all right. Legal and everything in this state.” Before Finch can do or say another word, Reese is nuzzling his sideburn.
Ms. Waring comes up with her own dog and Bear. Reese leans back casually as though he’d been doing nothing out of the ordinary. He snaps his fingers and Bear sits at his side. When Finch makes himself glance up at her, he sees from her expression she thinks they are adorable. He wants to die.
John makes small talk for them and they agree that Bear can meet with Sasha again next week. Ms. Warning leashes her dog and walks away. John turns back to look at Finch.
“Don’t look so worried, Harold. Your virtue is safe with me.” Reese takes his arm from around him and leans back, looking pleased with himself.
Finch is suddenly so tired. He’s exhausted. So many secrets, so many lies of omission.
They are living on borrowed time. The next number could be their last.
He takes a deep breath, turns to John.
“What if I don’t want it to be safe?” he asks, allowing his voice to drop into a seldom-used lower register.
The ball is in John’s court now. He can play it off as a simple joke or he can take Finch at his word.
John’s eyes are so deeply blue, his lashes so dark and full. They make shadows on John’s cheeks when his gaze drops to Finch’s lips.
“Not here, John,” Finch whispers breathlessly.
John’s face breaks into one of his beautiful smiles. He stands up. “Come on, Bear. We’re going home.” He doesn’t let go of Finch’s hand the whole way back to the library.