A/N: In Episode 2.14 “One Percent,” Logan Pierce gives Reese his expensive watch – equipped with a GPS tracker that even the Machine cannot trace. Although Finch destroys it, what would Pierce do with the information he has already gleaned?
WARNING: Smut ahead! In fact this is a crackfic so please don’t complain that it doesn’t have a serious plot. And happy belated birthday to managerie76! 😀
Pierce was disappointed when the signal from his GPS tracker abruptly stopped. He guessed (correctly) that Mr. Brains-of-the-Outfit had found and destroyed it. Far from discouraging Pierce, however, the fact that his mysterious rescuers posed an even more challenging puzzle than expected only served to excite him. He had found a worthy opponent in John’s secretive partner; John himself would have been intriguing enough, but the combination of the two men posed a tantalizing conundrum that Pierce was determined to decode.
He started by tracing the GPS locations after John had left the basketball court. The map showed a brief stop at a bodega, then a jaunt into the outskirts of Chinatown where it remained stationary for almost an hour before moving to Long Island City where it had ultimately stopped transmitting. There were no stores at that address in Chinatown. Pierce wondered if John’s next “hapless stranger” lived there, but his instincts told him that if John had had another case lined up, he wouldn’t have come to the basketball court to chat, let alone offered him a ride. He suspected that the location held more significance – a safe house, perhaps, where John could relax after a job well done; or maybe a rendezvous point where he could meet with his partner and learn about his new assignment. Pierce dismissed the latter option almost immediately since he assumed Mr. Brains would have picked the watch apart right away. So then, was it a flop house? Possibly even an apartment where John stayed whenever he had some time off?
He would only find out by investigating, Pierce knew. So he set off after dinner, dressed in nondescript dark clothing, for 810 Baxter Street.
“Our friend is just curious enough to be dangerous.”
Reese and Finch watched Bear frolicking with the other dog for a few minutes in silence. Reese was inwardly chiding himself for not having suspected the Trojan Horse gift from Pierce, but he didn’t want Finch to know how much it upset him that their “friend” had played him for a fool, so after a while he decided to play his favorite game: Try to Get a Rise out of Finch.
“You don’t have to be jealous, you know,” Reese stated as his opening gambit.
“I beg your pardon?”
Finch’s left eyebrow rose significantly.
“Just because Pierce gave me an expensive present, you didn’t have to stomp on it.”
“I was merely protecting us from exposure.”
Finch was refusing to be baited. Reese was not about to give up.
“You’ve never given me an expensive gift.”
“You just squandered ten million on some papers you didn’t even bring back. You have a closet full of illegal weapons – probably more firepower than some small countries. And what do you call the Griso, let alone the Ducati?”
“The auction was for charity; I may not need all of those weapons but I’d rather be prepared; and the guns and the motorcycles are necessary tools for my job,” Reese replied with aplomb. Another thought occurred to him, however. “Did you want those Einstein papers? Is that what this is about?”
“I wouldn’t have minded having a look at them, but I don’t know what you’re referring to; you’re the one who started this conversation.”
“And you’re the one who asked me out here. On a date.”
“I did not ask you out on a date; I just thought you would want to help Bear find a good friend. Plus he’s happier when you’re… when we’re all together.”
“You didn’t have any trouble finding a friend for him by yourself. You didn’t really need me to come with you… unless you wanted me to come… to keep you company.”
“Yes, well… face time is important for fostering good communication.”
“So, let’s foster good communication: are you mad at me for not bringing back those papers?”
“No. The money went to a good cause, and I can download scans of the papers if I really want to see them.”
“I wish I didn’t have to go chasing after Pierce, though – if I hadn’t been following him, I might have thought to have the papers gift-wrapped and brought them home to you.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Reese, but it’s hardly necessary. The best thing you can do for me is to keep yourself in one piece.”
“I guess you’re right. After all, what can I give a man who has everything, right?”
“Something like that.”
“But you know, there are some things money can’t buy. Like trust. Loyalty. Friendship.”
Finch acknowledged this with a nod and a lopsided quirk of his mouth. Reese turned to gaze at him until Finch returned the look.
“I think I have a lot to offer, Harold, if I only knew what it is that you want,” Reese said in his soft, sultry voice while piercing Finch with his deep-blue eyes.
“What I want, John, is… neither here nor there.”
Finch broke eye contact and stood up suddenly – or as suddenly as his body would allow – to begin walking towards the grass where Bear was playing tug-of-war with the other dog over a stick. Reese followed close behind.
“It’s not like it would be an imposition, you know,” he murmured loudly enough for Finch alone to hear. “Everybody needs a friend sometimes. Or companionship. Or just good old-fashioned sex.”
“John, please!” Finch gasped, a flush creeping into his wind-chilled cheeks.
“What? We’re both adults. And since you’ve asked me out here on a date, I’m assuming we don’t have any new Numbers that require our immediate attention.”
“If you would like the rest of the day off, all you have to do is ask,” Finch responded stiffly. Reese stepped closer, right into Finch’s comfort zone, forcing him to meet his steely gaze.
“That’s not what I said. I asked you to tell me what it is that you really want, so I could see about giving it to you.”
“I don’t need anything from you, John—”
“That’s not what I asked, either.”
Realizing that it was useless to try to put Reese off, Finch looked out across the water with wistful, longing eyes.
“What I want, John… may not be something you’re willing to give.”
“We won’t know unless you ask. Neither of us.”
“It might not be… pleasant… for you. Not something you would enjoy. Beneath your dignity.”
Reese pursed his lips into a brief frown of acknowledgement.
“I’ve done a lot of things in my life, Harold. You may be surprised at some of the things that aren’t in my file. And I do have a high pain tolerance.”
Finch swallowed hard. When he spoke, his words were barely audible despite how close Reese was standing to him.
“I have an aversion to pain, John – both receiving and inflicting it. It would be more of an issue of… control. Of… of… subjugation.”
“Now you’re just teasing me,” Reese said with a flirtatious lilt to his voice, cocking his head to the side to give Finch a lust-filled look. A faint smile curved the edges of his lips upward.
“N—Not here,” Finch stammered, blushing to a bright pink under that lascivious gaze. Reese called for Bear, who reluctantly but promptly obeyed the command.