Break Time
Title: Break Time
Author:
litlover12
Rating: G
Fandom: Person of Interest
Characters: John Reese, Harold Finch
Word Count: 326
Summary: Even a reclusive billionaire genius needs a hobby.
Spoilers/Warnings: A little nutty. You don't have to be familiar with Mystery Science Theater 3000, but it helps.
Author's Note: Okay, so this is what happens to your brain when you can't sleep and start watching MST3K at 2 in the morning. It spits out stuff like this. I may also have worked in a line from Psych.
Familiar voices drifted to Reese’s ear as he let himself into the library. He stood with his head cocked for a moment, listening, and then his eyes widened.
Quietly he made his way through the dim corridor to the room where Finch sat before the computer, looking intently at something. The scent of microwave popcorn, one of the last scents Reese ever would have expected to invade that space, filled the air. A bowl of it sat on the desk next to Finch’s cup of tea, both of them set at a careful distance from the keyboard. On the screen (so it hadn’t been his imagination after all) a YouTube window was open, and a dark-haired man was engaged in conversation with two robots, one gold and one red, white, and black.
“A Joel episode,” Reese observed aloud. “I was always more of a Mike man, myself.”
His practiced eye, trained on Finch as he spoke, caught the tiniest start from the other man. Even when caught off guard and embarrassed, he noted with amusement, Finch would not allow himself to actually jump.
There was a short but significant pause.
“Joel,” Finch said finally, in the tone of one pointing out the obvious, “got to do more invention exchanges.” He hesitated another moment, before adding with the smallest trace of wistfulness in his voice, “On occasion I have considered trying to invent a real Dollaroid.”
Reese was dragging a chair over to the computer. “Mike blew up more planets,” he countered, over his shoulder.
Finch quirked an eyebrow, though he was still not quite looking in Reese’s direction. “I wasn’t aware that was considered one of his more admirable qualities.”
The ex-agent made himself comfortable in his chair, and reached for a handful of popcorn. “You have your values system, Harold, and I have mine.”
They watched and ate in silence for a moment.
“Hey, Harold, do they have the ‘Riding with Death’ episode on here?”
Author:
litlover12
Rating: G
Fandom: Person of Interest
Characters: John Reese, Harold Finch
Word Count: 326
Summary: Even a reclusive billionaire genius needs a hobby.
Spoilers/Warnings: A little nutty. You don't have to be familiar with Mystery Science Theater 3000, but it helps.
Author's Note: Okay, so this is what happens to your brain when you can't sleep and start watching MST3K at 2 in the morning. It spits out stuff like this. I may also have worked in a line from Psych.
Familiar voices drifted to Reese’s ear as he let himself into the library. He stood with his head cocked for a moment, listening, and then his eyes widened.
Quietly he made his way through the dim corridor to the room where Finch sat before the computer, looking intently at something. The scent of microwave popcorn, one of the last scents Reese ever would have expected to invade that space, filled the air. A bowl of it sat on the desk next to Finch’s cup of tea, both of them set at a careful distance from the keyboard. On the screen (so it hadn’t been his imagination after all) a YouTube window was open, and a dark-haired man was engaged in conversation with two robots, one gold and one red, white, and black.
“A Joel episode,” Reese observed aloud. “I was always more of a Mike man, myself.”
His practiced eye, trained on Finch as he spoke, caught the tiniest start from the other man. Even when caught off guard and embarrassed, he noted with amusement, Finch would not allow himself to actually jump.
There was a short but significant pause.
“Joel,” Finch said finally, in the tone of one pointing out the obvious, “got to do more invention exchanges.” He hesitated another moment, before adding with the smallest trace of wistfulness in his voice, “On occasion I have considered trying to invent a real Dollaroid.”
Reese was dragging a chair over to the computer. “Mike blew up more planets,” he countered, over his shoulder.
Finch quirked an eyebrow, though he was still not quite looking in Reese’s direction. “I wasn’t aware that was considered one of his more admirable qualities.”
The ex-agent made himself comfortable in his chair, and reached for a handful of popcorn. “You have your values system, Harold, and I have mine.”
They watched and ate in silence for a moment.
“Hey, Harold, do they have the ‘Riding with Death’ episode on here?”