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meme_of_interest2013-03-28 06:03 pm
the_machine_mod) wrote in meme_of_interest2013-03-28 06:03 pm
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Prompt Post 01
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FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]
“Lulls in the Numbers happen sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Or,” John said as he walked across the room, “the Machine wants you to take a vacation.”
Ingram snorted but Harold just sent him a cool look. Ingram did a double take. “Wait, you communicate with it?”
Harold was quick to placate him. “Of course not,” but the glare he sent John wasn’t angry, rather thankful. John prided himself in his ability to tell the difference. “But perhaps Mr. Reese has a point,” Harold said neutrally. “I believe there is a baseball game this afternoon. Would you like to go, Nathan?”
Ingram sputtered and made worried sounds about cover identities but eventually agreed. John spent the next fifteen minutes memorizing the quickest way from the LIbrary to the stadium and the locations of payphones along the rout.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to entertain yourself in our absence, Mr. Reese?” John unpacked the question and translated it to, ‘do whatever you need to do.’
“Of course, Finch.” He would.
Exactly two minutes after Ingram and Harold left, John hooked the leash onto Bear’s collar and walked them out into the afternoon sun. He stayed two blocks behind the pair, careful to avoid detection. He was certain Finch was aware of him, but it the principle of the act, not the actual deception, that motivated his actions. “Come on Bear,” he said lightly in Dutch, and the dog kept up pace as they turned a corner.
Ingram was a positive development so far. He was learning fast and Harold trusted him. Harold needed people he could trust and John was happy that Harold was happy. He would be useful in the field too (eventually, when Harold felt secure that he wouldn’t be snatched from under them) but they would have to outfit him with glasses or at least some level of disguise. Nathan Ingram was dead, but he had been a public figure and someone might recognise him.
John toggled the earpiece at the next stoplight and let Ingram’s voice flood in. He didn’t feel guilty. If Harold hadn’t wanted him to listen he would have said so.
Ingram: I can’t believe you still like baseball.
Finch: It’s a great sport, the great sport.
Ingram: It’s slow, there isn’t much skill, and-
They are too far ahead for John to make out their details, but a sudden crush of the crowd as they near the stadium has Ingram ramrod straight. They’ve stopped moving and John has no doubt Ingram is staving off a panic attack.
Finch: We can go back.
Ingram: No. You wanted to go to the game. It’s the least I can do to. I shouldn’t be like this.
Finch: It’s perfectly natural, Nathan.
Ingram: (Snappishly) How would you know.
Finch: (A pause) I was kidnapped - only for two or three days. A tiny fraction of the time they had you. I couldn’t go outside for a week. I was afraid she-I was afraid it would happen again.
This, John reminded himself, was good. This was exactly what both Harold and Ingram needed to be functional. The fact that it felt like a punch in the gut was merely a side effect of his failure to protect him from Root, nothing more.
Ingram: How did you get past it?
Finch: John.
John’s hand spasmed and he toggled off the ear-piece. They were safe, talking about their situation, and moving past it. That was all he needed to know. The pair started moving again and he watched until they disappeared into the stadium.
He stopped by the donut shop again on his way home, made sure to pick up the cream filled ones Ingram was fond of as well as the chocolate sprinkled kind that Finch insisted he didn’t like but that always disappeared first the moment John looked away. He also picked up a box of loose leaf green tea. They were running low at the Library and it would be a day for comfort food. He’d learned, both in the service and out, that food was the fastest way to calm an asset down and get them into a pliable state of mind. Harold was never an asset and Ingram was fast moving out of the category, but the principle remained the same.
Later, when Ingram and Harold were back from the game and tired from the social exertion of not having a nervous breakdown in front of thousands of people, Ingram stopped him between rows Cr-Ea. Automatically he calculated the nearest exits with the lowest probability of personal injury and the location of his weapons stashes.
“I’ve been locked up in a grey box for three years,” Ingram said. John expected a second clause to the sentence, but Ingram just looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been friends with Harold for years. We respect each other. We’ve been through hell together. But Harold genuinely likes you. Harold doesn’t like anybody.”
John waited. Ingram’s assessment didn’t match up with his own experiences. Harold liked many people, often too much.
Ingram sighed. “I’m just saying, Harold likes you. That’s unusual. Don’t waste it.”
It clicked into place and he felt a smile pull at his face, unbidden. “I see. Thank you.”
Nathan grinned and clapped him on the back. “And remember, if you hurt him I’ll kill you.”
“Welcome to the team,” John said.
Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]
Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]
Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]
Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]
Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]
I love the disconnect between how Nathan thinks of Harold and how John does.
Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]
Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]