[Person of Interest] "A Question of Technique" (PG-13)
Author's Note: Written for comment_fic's Any, any, why is there a broken handcuff locked to the ceiling fan?
The hotel room had lost several stars, in Finch's estimation, when he finally caught up with Reese. The bed looked as if it had been stomped to pieces by a mad elephant, and the ceiling fan above dangled precariously from a single wire. To say nothing of the warped blade on which one half of a broken pair of handcuffs had been fastened.
His attention refocused on Reese, who was cleaning a handgun nonchalantly as he sat on the end of an overturned couch.
"When you said you were taking that woman's ex-husband for a spin, I *thought* it would involve a car that you'd 'borrowed'," Finch said.
"He wasn't the sort I could simply take out to a remote area and then threaten to leave in a ditch with a few ounces of lead installed in several vital spots," Reese replied, calmly, but with an almost smirk. "Gotta get creative with someone who keeps tight-lipped."
Finch wasn't sure which he found more disturbing: the almost smirk, or the almost smirk. "It's your creativity that bothers me, Mr. Reese."
"But it was my creativity that got him to cough up where he'd hidden her," Reese replied.
Finch eyed the walls dubiously. "But did that really need to involve redecorating the walls?"
The hotel room had lost several stars, in Finch's estimation, when he finally caught up with Reese. The bed looked as if it had been stomped to pieces by a mad elephant, and the ceiling fan above dangled precariously from a single wire. To say nothing of the warped blade on which one half of a broken pair of handcuffs had been fastened.
His attention refocused on Reese, who was cleaning a handgun nonchalantly as he sat on the end of an overturned couch.
"When you said you were taking that woman's ex-husband for a spin, I *thought* it would involve a car that you'd 'borrowed'," Finch said.
"He wasn't the sort I could simply take out to a remote area and then threaten to leave in a ditch with a few ounces of lead installed in several vital spots," Reese replied, calmly, but with an almost smirk. "Gotta get creative with someone who keeps tight-lipped."
Finch wasn't sure which he found more disturbing: the almost smirk, or the almost smirk. "It's your creativity that bothers me, Mr. Reese."
"But it was my creativity that got him to cough up where he'd hidden her," Reese replied.
Finch eyed the walls dubiously. "But did that really need to involve redecorating the walls?"