the_machine_mod: Security camera with red light. (Default)
the_machine_mod ([personal profile] the_machine_mod) wrote in [community profile] meme_of_interest2013-03-28 06:03 pm

Prompt Post 01

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sam80853: by esteefee (POI)

Re: Fill: Robot AU!, Reese/Finch overtones, No Warnings

[personal profile] sam80853 2013-04-08 03:03 am (UTC)(link)
*smiles* Oh Harold...
talitha78: (Default)

Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]

[personal profile] talitha78 2013-04-08 03:16 am (UTC)(link)
Loved this!

Finch is a somnambulist

(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 03:51 am (UTC)(link)

When Finch is forced to stay over at Reese's apartment Reese discovers Finch is a somnambulist with very strong feelings about Reese.
managerie: (Default)


[personal profile] managerie 2013-04-08 03:56 am (UTC)(link)
Geek Porn.. I am all over this !
managerie: (Default)


[personal profile] managerie 2013-04-08 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
The petty indignity of it made him afraid for so much more, so much worse

Oh Crap

Loved this. Excellent pacing, wonderfully in character. Just. Breathtaking.
managerie: (Default)

Re: FILL: Distractions (Finch/Reese) [Teen] [No warnings]

[personal profile] managerie 2013-04-08 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
Love this
sarcasticsra: A picture of a rat snuggling a teeny teddy bear. (Default)

Re: FILL: Distractions (Finch/Reese) [Teen] [No warnings]

[personal profile] sarcasticsra 2013-04-08 05:35 am (UTC)(link)
Thank you!
sarcasticsra: A picture of a rat snuggling a teeny teddy bear. (Default)

Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]

[personal profile] sarcasticsra 2013-04-08 05:47 am (UTC)(link)
Ohhhhh, this was great! YAY NATHAN. Yay Nathan giving John a clue! YAY HAPPINESS.

FILL: Touch, Reese/Finch, Teen, 5/6

(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 05:56 am (UTC)(link)
Reese is used to being watched.

Finch watches him and listens to him and as far as Reese knows, he watches and listens to everything. Everything. But not today. Today, coming back from the dogpark, Finch was surprised to see him.

Reese doesn't know what that means, but he stores the information in his "things I know about Finch" file. Reese's "things I know about Finch" file is full of the few scraps and crumbs of knowledge Finch has allowed him to have. This - Finch's surprise - will be the first thing on the list that that Finch hasn't deliberately given him. Not that it will make much of a difference - Reese knows all kinds of things about Finch, but they're all inconsequential, and never seem to come together into a coherent whole.

It would drive Reese nuts if he let himself think about it, but Reese mostly gets distracted by the nonstop deluge of people needing to be saved. And he tries not to think about it, anyway.

Broadly speaking, it's better not to think. Kara taught him that. She taught him to suppress every impulse that wasn't directly related to the job. Feel like talking to your now-married ex? Suppress. Feel like asking questions about the mission the CIA just gave you? Suppress. Need a hug? Think about something else. Haven't gotten laid in months? Just use that energy to better punch your mark in the face.

John knows he can live differently now - knows Finch wants him to be a human being, not a weapon. But he's never tried, not really, until today.

So John looks up at Finch again. Looks at the set of his shoulders, at his jawline, at the nape of his neck. John thinks: who are you? Why were you surprised to see me earlier? Why didn't you know I'd left Aiden's place? Why had you stopped watching? Abruptly, Finch's eyes flick up towards him.

And suddenly, Reese gets it.

Re: hotel room

(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 06:13 am (UTC)(link)
Working on a fill for this! May take a little bit, though.

At the mercy of the muse. orz;;;

Re: hotel room

(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 06:30 am (UTC)(link)
sarcasticsra: A picture of a rat snuggling a teeny teddy bear. (Default)

FILL: Half Past the Point of No Return (Finch/Reese) [General] [No meme warnings apply]

[personal profile] sarcasticsra 2013-04-08 09:36 am (UTC)(link)
I hope this is somewhere in the vicinity of what you wanted! Fic went in an interesting (and slightly unexpected) direction on me. (Note: does include some references to self-destructive drinking and depression.)

1) denial;

Harold is kissing him, softly but insistently, and John has to fight every instinct he possesses; every last piece of him is telling him to give into it, to let himself go, because he belongs to Harold, and if Harold wants this from him, he deserves to have it.

(Harold deserves every last piece of him, truthfully, every last slightly rusted and hollowed-out part of his soul.)

But he can’t give him this. It’s not his to give. He may belong to Harold, but Harold belongs to Grace, and John knows where he falls.

He pulls away, face carefully blank. “I should go.”

Harold’s faltering, wounded expression carves another hollow spot in his chest.


Harold sits in front of his monitors, Bear’s head on his lap, and wonders where he miscalculated.

Interpersonal relationships have always been tricky for him, especially his own. Being an impartial observer can make it easier, but he knows it’s nearly impossible to have that kind of impartiality when it comes to one’s own life.

He had thought…he’s seen the way John looks at him when he thinks he’s not paying attention. He’s captured both photographic and video evidence of that look, repeated so many times that the pattern had appeared obvious: longing, need.

(He had been, selfishly, thrilled. His selfishness being a vice he’s long since accepted, he had acted.)

Clearly, he’s missed something.

2) anger;

John shows up at the Library the next day in jeans and a t-shirt. The suit hanging up in his closet had been unapproachable, a monument to Harold’s presence in several thousand dollars of custom-made Hugo Boss.

(He feels like he’s charging into battle without body armor.)

“Do we have another number, Finch?” he asks, careful to call him by that name.

Harold is staring at him. He looks…frankly, John thinks he looks pissed off.

“Did something happen to your suit, Mr. Reese?” he asks, tone sharp. “I have your measurements recorded. I can order you another one.”

“Suit’s fine,” he says, almost snaps. “Our number?”

Harold of all people should understand this, he thinks.


Harold doesn’t look at John through the entire briefing on their latest number, stares pointedly at either the board or his screens. He can feel the tension in his neck and shoulders, knows it’s going to wreak havoc on him all day, and he wants to blame John.

John, who doesn’t call him Harold once, not even to needle him; John, who has shown up improperly attired like it means nothing; John, who apparently felt the need to reject him not once, but repeatedly.

(He tells himself he has no right to feel this way, but apparently selfishness is not his only major vice.)

Harold dismisses him early that night, and he thinks…John looks wounded.

3) bargaining;

He’s back in the suit. It’s a peace-offering, he tells himself, an olive branch. It’s to let Harold know that things can continue as they have been.

(He ignores how it feels right, being dressed the way Harold prefers him, because those are thoughts he can’t let himself indulge.)

Harold looks surprised and speculative when he sees him, but doesn’t comment, and the day proceeds as normal—kneecappings included.

He hates how much more comfortable he feels, hates that he can’t make a clean break; Harold deserves that, deserves someone stronger, deserves someone who isn’t hoping he’ll try again.

John can’t want it, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to resist a second time.


Harold has noticed that John appears to be flinching.

It’s not obvious; it would never be obvious. Careful observation, however, has revealed the minutest of flinches when he thinks Harold is looking away.

Revulsion, he thinks, at first, but upon closer inspection, he suspects it’s regret.

None of this makes sense to him, John’s bizarre behavior. He had seemed to make it perfectly apparent that he wasn’t interested, yet all evidence points to the contrary.

(There’s more that doesn’t make sense, of course—like the surprisingly base emotion he experiences upon seeing John back in his suit.)

Contrary. There’s a word for John, apt in many ways, and Harold isn’t quite sure what to do.

4) depression;

John is having a staring contest with a bottle of whiskey.

(He thinks briefly that Harold wouldn’t approve, and he’s not sure if that makes it more or less likely that he’ll lose.)

It’s been a while since he’s really thought about drinking; having a drink doesn’t count. Drinking is another thing entirely.

He did the right thing, he’s sure. He can’t be what Harold needs him to be. He wants to be, because he’s weak, but that changes nothing. It changes nothing and the sooner he stops wanting the impossible, the better off he’ll be. The better off they’ll both be.

The whiskey would help with the wanting. It would help with feeling anything.


He didn’t miscalculate.

Harold has run the numbers, simulated the code—the data always yields the same result.

Yet it’s midnight and he’s sitting at one of his safehouses, staring at the wall, trying to make sense of the nonsensical. He picks up his phone, looks at it intently for a long moment, and then makes up his mind; he dials a number, calls a car, promises an excellent tip. The receptionist assures him he’ll have a driver within ten minutes.

Twenty minutes later, he’s standing outside John’s door, raising his fist.

(His apartment, his suit, everything is his, including John, and he’s lost too much not to be selfish now.)

The door swings open.

5) acceptance;

“John, this is ridiculous,” Harold says, eyeing him. John looks away, at anything other than his expression.

“What’s ridiculous, Finch?”

“This…mutual and unsatisfactory abject misery,” he says. “I can’t see a reason for it beyond stubbornness and possibly some sort of misunderstanding.”

“I can’t replace her, Harold,” John tells him. “There’s no misunderstanding.”

Harold stares at him. “Is that what you thought? That you were going to be some meaningless, tawdry fling?”

John makes an impatient noise, but he can’t help but smile, if sadly. “Of course not, Harold. That’s my point. You think of me as more, but I’m not more. I’m not as good as she is, and deep down, you know that.”


“John,” Harold says, and he imbues this sentence with every ounce of authority he possesses, “come here, now.”

John appears to move without being aware of it, his back straight and his hands falling behind his back when he stops a couple inches in front of him. Harold’s noticed him doing that before, posture very soldier-like, when he’s giving him information about a new number.

“You are my partner, John. You have saved numerous lives. You are more, John. You are good. You are not to tell me otherwise ever again.”

He kisses him, tenderly, like the first time.

John sways and curves against him, fitting them together as close as it’s possible to be.

Re: FILL: Half Past the Point of No Return (Finch/Reese) [General] [No meme warnings apply]

(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 10:06 am (UTC)(link)
I'm such a sucker for insecure!John. Lovely. ♥


(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 10:51 am (UTC)(link)
So he does that, and it's easy to keep their attention. It's not so much that the work is good, though it is that, he supposes; it's that it's so different. The habit of discretion has isolated him so completely his code is like Darwin's finches: a divergent species.

John taps in again and says, "I've got eyes on the suit but I can't bluejack his phone."

"Well I should hope not," he replies primly. But he thinks for a second-- this damned display mirror is a cramp-- then says, "Send a picture, Mr Reese, and I'll see what I can do."

He'd written the bots to cover Mr Finch while he sat in meetings as Mr Wren. Harold knows the value of at least the appearance of omniscience. He looks around surreptitiously, subvocalises to his phone, forwards the picture to an unlisted number. His bot hacks the ID card printer at the front desk, tracks back into the client list and runs that through Maltego. (Harold is inordinately fond of Maltego; he sometimes feels guilty for crippling it so comprehensively.)

The bot finds the weakness and sends back the exploit. He executes and John confirms, "I'm in." And then they both demonstrate their competencies, for hours, until Harold feels almost breathless from it.

When the evening rolls around they go into the ballroom arm in arm. John's tux slides over the gun at his hip and you can't tell at all unless you know precisely where to look. Of course Harold knows where to look because he'd chosen the jacket, he'd had it made to move in precisely that way and he'd held it out for John to put on this evening before they'd left. He dresses John these days; he's not sure when that began. Harold watches the tiny movement and, though he doesn't love the gun, he finds he loves knowing this secret. It feels like a secret about John's body, known only to the two of them, and that is, well, it's something.

The show he'd put on in the conference hall had done its work. People were looking at him like, like–

John murmurs, "Not enjoying the attention, Finch? Shoulda held back a little this afternoon." John's voice changes a little. "Hey, what did you pull in there anyway? We can't attract too much–"

Harold smiles tightly. "It's nothing. It's old actually–a decade old idea I had; it looks impressive but it's flawed; it won't scale. They'll see it eventually."

John is shaking his head. "Well I'd say Mr Rivera is the envy of every investor here." He presses a hand to the small of Harold's back and guides him to a table. "Let's hope they don't see it too soon. I think I kind of like having the biggest brain in the trophy cabinet."

Re: FILL: Half Past the Point of No Return (Finch/Reese) [General] [No meme warnings apply]

(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 11:31 am (UTC)(link)
(OP) I love you! Thank you!

Re: John thinks about Grace a lot

(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 11:38 am (UTC)(link)
You are not the only one who wants this. Madam, your army stands with you. ::salutes::
orockthro: George with glasses and "NERD" written on her forehead (Default)

Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]

[personal profile] orockthro 2013-04-08 12:51 pm (UTC)(link)
\o/ glad you enjoyed it!
orockthro: George with glasses and "NERD" written on her forehead (Default)

Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]

[personal profile] orockthro 2013-04-08 12:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Hehehe thanks! Glad you liked it! :)
orockthro: George with glasses and "NERD" written on her forehead (Default)

Re: FILL: Half Past the Point of No Return (Finch/Reese) [General] [No meme warnings apply]

[personal profile] orockthro 2013-04-08 12:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Ooooh. Yes. I liked this because you really opened up their heads for us to see! Really great!


(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 02:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Wow, how powerful. Great job!

Re: Stargate universe fusion

(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 02:31 pm (UTC)(link)
+1 on this

I for one would like to see more!

Re: Finch/Reese - Reese is used to using sex as a tool of his trade

(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 02:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh I would love to read this fill. Please fill, someone!

Carter/Reese, a case requires nudity

(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 02:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Are there nude beaches anywhere around New York? There must be a nudist society or something. So maybe a nudist is plotting to murder their spouse and Reese has to show up and save them... naked. Would love it if Carter was around for the end of the case, or maybe called in to look over the surveillance video. (Bonus: set it during early S1 and have Carter pursuing the "man in the suit"... out of the suit.)
laurakaye: (Default)

Re: FILL: In Death We See Clearly (3/3) [Gen; Finch/Reese (implied), Nathan; No Warnings Apply]

[personal profile] laurakaye 2013-04-08 03:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Dawwwww, Nathan.

I love the disconnect between how Nathan thinks of Harold and how John does.

Re: Knees and Hospitals

(Anonymous) 2013-04-08 03:05 pm (UTC)(link)
"I used to be a mercenary for organized crime, but then I took a gunshot to the knee..."