The Chauffeur Chapter 3
John Reeves sat for a few moments watching his boss, Harold Crane, limp towards the building Crane Investments was located in. There were other businesses with floors in the building, Crane Investments’ holdings no doubt, but the majority of the twenty story office high-rise was occupied by his boss’s company.
John Reese had to wait to make sure Harold Finch, another alias of Harold’s he was sure, but the one that was real to John, made it into the building okay. He also had to once again cool down. Watching Harold’s fine retreating backside and thinking about their earlier backseat encounter combined to cause another tightening in the crotch of his not so crisp and now slightly wrinkled uniform slacks.
Reeves could still taste the combination of green tea, doughnut icing, and mint when Harold had opened his mouth to allow John’s tongue to plunder there. John could still feel the buttons of his uniform shirt being hastily undone by Harold's impatient fingers and hands pushing up John’s undershirt for those fingers to brush up and down his chest and sides.
If it hadn’t been for that blasted alarm sounding off. It was a mood breaker to be sure, but maybe a savior in a way. Five more minutes of Harold touching him, squirming on his lap and pressing John’s hand on his own arousal, might have been too much for John’s control. He would have had Crane’s fly open and Harold in hand right there in the car. John knew he would have come in his own pants watching Harold shoot his semen over John’s hand.
Reeves wasn’t shocked by what he had done when Harold had said, “You’re not fired.” John Reese was mortified that he had been in that back seat in the first place. John Reeves couldn’t resist it though. The smell of Harold’s cologne wafting in the closed air of the limo’s interior and watching Crane in his bespoke suit, matching shirt, tie, and pocket square, all John’s favorites, in the rear view mirror was a temptation too strong to resist.
After Harold had been safely inside the building for several minutes, John felt he had cooled off enough to drive to the detailer’s to have the limo washed, waxed, and vacuumed. He started up the car and drove off.
On the drive to Valero’s Car Wash, John Reese had time to grapple with his inability to act on his feelings for Harold Finch. Reese had become aware that his emotional connection ran deeper than friendship when Root had taken Finch almost two years ago. She’d only had him for three days but it seemed like forever and John still had nightmares Root had Harold in her clutches.
Despite Harold Crane’s objections to the advances of John Reeves, John knew Harold Finch, without a doubt wanted him: Reese not Reeves. What John had to figure out was how to overcome his own inability to express his desires and deep affection, love even, for Harold when they were Finch and Reese, not some aliases.
When John arrived at his destination, he turned over the keys and gave the attendant Harold’s detailed instructions for the care of the limo. Acting as Crane’s chauffeur and agent, making sure every detail of the instructions were carried out to the letter left John little time to dwell on Reese’s personal problems.
The personnel at Valero’s were very efficient as well as fast. Within thirty minutes, John was on his way again and trying to decide what to do with the rest of the day. The morning had turned out beautiful and would remain sunny and sweet for the rest of the day according to the weather forecast. A walk in Bear’s favorite dog park would do them both good. John headed for Shaw’s place to pick up Bear.
Shaw, Harold Finch’s employee (his real one) had agreed to take Bear for the day while Harold worked at his Crane identity and John Reeves would drive him there. Neither man had any objections when Shaw had offered to take Bear.
Whatever else John thought he might do today wouldn’t take up much time. Reese decided he would swing by the dog park around 3 pm or so and be back to the Crane building in plenty of time to pick up Harold.
Even while watching carefully that he wasn’t being followed, it wouldn’t be good for anyone to associate Crane with one of Finch’s operatives; it still only took minutes to get to Shaw’s apartment building.
Shaw answered her door soon after John’s first knock. Her face was puzzled at first seeing John in uniform at her door. Then confusion turned into amusement followed by hoots of laughter as Shaw motioned him in. When she had her bout of hysterical laughter under control, she noticed John’s ‘It’s not funny glare’ and pulled him further into the apartment. “Okay, spill it! What’s got you all moody?” Shaw grinned and motioned Reese to sit down on her bed/couch.
John clenched and unclenched his fists, while he remained standing, then grated out, “Nothing that concerns you Shaw. I just decided to take Bear with me until Harold is done with his meeting.” Shaw eyed him and then shrugged, “Okay. Fine by me. I hate talking anyways.”
Shaw turned and walked to the nightstand where she has tossed Bear’s leash when it dawned on her, Finch and Reese were running their cover identities today. She’d been with the men long enough to have noticed either one or both of the men's behaviors were off sometimes for days after. Still, it was none of her business.
Reese reached for the leash, when Shaw pulled it back. “No! This is my business!” That was followed by John’s questioning angrily, “What the hell are you talking about?”
She retreated a step backwards, “Look, what happens between you two is kind of my business. I work for both of you, remember?” Taking a stab in the dark, she smirked, “What? He say no?” When John’s eyes widened she knew she’d gotten close to the mark. Shaw shrugged, and then probed unsympathetically, “Look I don’t care to know the details, but, should I be worried that yours and his emotional problems are gonna affect my employment?”
John had never wanted to open up to Shaw about anything personal, especially what was going on between Harold and himself. Sharing intimate details with his co-worker was the last thing in the world John ever wanted to do, so he was shocked with himself when he walked over and sat down. It all came rushing out in a combination of hesitancy and relief as John admitted. “He said ‘yes’, he always says ‘yes’.”
Shaw came over and sat down next to him nudging him in the shoulder, inquiring doubtfully, “So what’s the problem?”
John just shrugged, “He’s never said yes to John Reese and I’ve never asked Harold Finch. If that even makes sense. I’m afraid he’ll get tired of the games one day and say ‘no’. I don’t want to lose him Shaw, but I don’t know how to tell him how I feel. Get it?”
Shaw hated talking about human interactions and reactions but recognizing them had kept her alive while working for the NSA. Shaw sighed heavily then offered, “John, I’ve watched Harold after your ‘alias’ days, he either looks expectant or disappointed every time. I think he cares about you a lot and wants to tell you, but he’s unsure if you even feel the same. Why don’t you just man up and tell him, Reese to Finch?”
Shaw smiled and winked at him, then suggested. “Leave Bear here with me tonight. You have time to go get something to make him a nice romantic dinner. Take Harold to your place, John Reese’s home. Wine and dine him, then just tell him how you feel.”
John frowned, doubting it could be that simple. “Shaw thank you for the….”
John’s cell phone’s ring tone interrupted him before he could finish. John recognized Asherton’s phone number and answered, “This is Reese.”
Shaw watched John’s face ashen and when John terminated the call, she anxiously asked, “What’s wrong?”
It was unreal to hear John Reese answer in a strangled panicky voice, “They've got Harold!”
~*~
The Chauffeur
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
John Reese had to wait to make sure Harold Finch, another alias of Harold’s he was sure, but the one that was real to John, made it into the building okay. He also had to once again cool down. Watching Harold’s fine retreating backside and thinking about their earlier backseat encounter combined to cause another tightening in the crotch of his not so crisp and now slightly wrinkled uniform slacks.
Reeves could still taste the combination of green tea, doughnut icing, and mint when Harold had opened his mouth to allow John’s tongue to plunder there. John could still feel the buttons of his uniform shirt being hastily undone by Harold's impatient fingers and hands pushing up John’s undershirt for those fingers to brush up and down his chest and sides.
If it hadn’t been for that blasted alarm sounding off. It was a mood breaker to be sure, but maybe a savior in a way. Five more minutes of Harold touching him, squirming on his lap and pressing John’s hand on his own arousal, might have been too much for John’s control. He would have had Crane’s fly open and Harold in hand right there in the car. John knew he would have come in his own pants watching Harold shoot his semen over John’s hand.
Reeves wasn’t shocked by what he had done when Harold had said, “You’re not fired.” John Reese was mortified that he had been in that back seat in the first place. John Reeves couldn’t resist it though. The smell of Harold’s cologne wafting in the closed air of the limo’s interior and watching Crane in his bespoke suit, matching shirt, tie, and pocket square, all John’s favorites, in the rear view mirror was a temptation too strong to resist.
After Harold had been safely inside the building for several minutes, John felt he had cooled off enough to drive to the detailer’s to have the limo washed, waxed, and vacuumed. He started up the car and drove off.
On the drive to Valero’s Car Wash, John Reese had time to grapple with his inability to act on his feelings for Harold Finch. Reese had become aware that his emotional connection ran deeper than friendship when Root had taken Finch almost two years ago. She’d only had him for three days but it seemed like forever and John still had nightmares Root had Harold in her clutches.
Despite Harold Crane’s objections to the advances of John Reeves, John knew Harold Finch, without a doubt wanted him: Reese not Reeves. What John had to figure out was how to overcome his own inability to express his desires and deep affection, love even, for Harold when they were Finch and Reese, not some aliases.
When John arrived at his destination, he turned over the keys and gave the attendant Harold’s detailed instructions for the care of the limo. Acting as Crane’s chauffeur and agent, making sure every detail of the instructions were carried out to the letter left John little time to dwell on Reese’s personal problems.
The personnel at Valero’s were very efficient as well as fast. Within thirty minutes, John was on his way again and trying to decide what to do with the rest of the day. The morning had turned out beautiful and would remain sunny and sweet for the rest of the day according to the weather forecast. A walk in Bear’s favorite dog park would do them both good. John headed for Shaw’s place to pick up Bear.
Shaw, Harold Finch’s employee (his real one) had agreed to take Bear for the day while Harold worked at his Crane identity and John Reeves would drive him there. Neither man had any objections when Shaw had offered to take Bear.
Whatever else John thought he might do today wouldn’t take up much time. Reese decided he would swing by the dog park around 3 pm or so and be back to the Crane building in plenty of time to pick up Harold.
Even while watching carefully that he wasn’t being followed, it wouldn’t be good for anyone to associate Crane with one of Finch’s operatives; it still only took minutes to get to Shaw’s apartment building.
Shaw answered her door soon after John’s first knock. Her face was puzzled at first seeing John in uniform at her door. Then confusion turned into amusement followed by hoots of laughter as Shaw motioned him in. When she had her bout of hysterical laughter under control, she noticed John’s ‘It’s not funny glare’ and pulled him further into the apartment. “Okay, spill it! What’s got you all moody?” Shaw grinned and motioned Reese to sit down on her bed/couch.
John clenched and unclenched his fists, while he remained standing, then grated out, “Nothing that concerns you Shaw. I just decided to take Bear with me until Harold is done with his meeting.” Shaw eyed him and then shrugged, “Okay. Fine by me. I hate talking anyways.”
Shaw turned and walked to the nightstand where she has tossed Bear’s leash when it dawned on her, Finch and Reese were running their cover identities today. She’d been with the men long enough to have noticed either one or both of the men's behaviors were off sometimes for days after. Still, it was none of her business.
Reese reached for the leash, when Shaw pulled it back. “No! This is my business!” That was followed by John’s questioning angrily, “What the hell are you talking about?”
She retreated a step backwards, “Look, what happens between you two is kind of my business. I work for both of you, remember?” Taking a stab in the dark, she smirked, “What? He say no?” When John’s eyes widened she knew she’d gotten close to the mark. Shaw shrugged, and then probed unsympathetically, “Look I don’t care to know the details, but, should I be worried that yours and his emotional problems are gonna affect my employment?”
John had never wanted to open up to Shaw about anything personal, especially what was going on between Harold and himself. Sharing intimate details with his co-worker was the last thing in the world John ever wanted to do, so he was shocked with himself when he walked over and sat down. It all came rushing out in a combination of hesitancy and relief as John admitted. “He said ‘yes’, he always says ‘yes’.”
Shaw came over and sat down next to him nudging him in the shoulder, inquiring doubtfully, “So what’s the problem?”
John just shrugged, “He’s never said yes to John Reese and I’ve never asked Harold Finch. If that even makes sense. I’m afraid he’ll get tired of the games one day and say ‘no’. I don’t want to lose him Shaw, but I don’t know how to tell him how I feel. Get it?”
Shaw hated talking about human interactions and reactions but recognizing them had kept her alive while working for the NSA. Shaw sighed heavily then offered, “John, I’ve watched Harold after your ‘alias’ days, he either looks expectant or disappointed every time. I think he cares about you a lot and wants to tell you, but he’s unsure if you even feel the same. Why don’t you just man up and tell him, Reese to Finch?”
Shaw smiled and winked at him, then suggested. “Leave Bear here with me tonight. You have time to go get something to make him a nice romantic dinner. Take Harold to your place, John Reese’s home. Wine and dine him, then just tell him how you feel.”
John frowned, doubting it could be that simple. “Shaw thank you for the….”
John’s cell phone’s ring tone interrupted him before he could finish. John recognized Asherton’s phone number and answered, “This is Reese.”
Shaw watched John’s face ashen and when John terminated the call, she anxiously asked, “What’s wrong?”
It was unreal to hear John Reese answer in a strangled panicky voice, “They've got Harold!”
~*~
The Chauffeur
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue