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***
John had defused a bomb a time or two, once with Kara screaming at him, but handling Harold made him nervous. Harold needed John to be so careful with him. A simple touch was enough to make him gasp, and if John ever got up the nerve to undress him, well, Harold might pass out.
The numbers took hours of John’s time and usually all his energy, or he might’ve pressed the issue, but with their schedule, he was fine with going slow. After all, Harold really did like to watch, and occasionally, John didn’t mind putting on a show.
“Maybe, go slower?”
The tentative question nearly made John laugh, but he did slow down, dragging his hand up his cock achingly slow. Harold gulped. He was sitting in a chair in the living room of their newest safehouse, hands clenched into his thighs. Of course, he was still in his suit. John had managed to get him to take off his overcoat, but that was it.
“You know I want to touch you?” Harold whispered.
“I know.” John understood. Sometimes, Harold just couldn’t. Anxieties, or whatever, he wasn’t able, and it was fine. John had kept his undershirt on, but now he peeled it off without letting go of his cock. He pinched his own nipple and saw Harold’s eyes dilate. “I’m going to need a shower.”
Harold nodded jerkily and his feet shifted, and John went down to roll his balls, really getting lube everywhere. He had to admit, Harold’s rapt attention was turning him on, and a small part of him wanted to spurt on Harold’s face. The mere idea made him groan, and Harold licked his lips.
“Take off your glasses.” John wanted to see Harold’s face, and his fingers trembled as he eased them off, folded them, and tucked them in a pocket. His eyes never left John’s body. Blue eyes, big tonight, and he looked vulnerable without the cover. John felt his leg quiver, and he wasn’t going to last much longer, standing in the living room, naked. He hoped Harold didn’t realize that John wouldn’t do this for anyone else.
“You’re so beautiful,” Harold whispered, and he flushed, probably wanting those words back.
John shuddered, shut his eyes, and shot come, easing down to his knees and rubbing the come into his chest. When he could look at him again, Harold didn’t even seem to be breathing.
“Wow,” John groaned the word. He stroked out the last of it, darting his hand up to his mouth to lick, and he had the privilege of seeing Harold orgasm. Long and hard from the look and sound of things, and it made John want to go again. Crawling forward, he leaned his face onto Harold’s thigh.
Harold wrapped his hand around John’s neck and panted. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” John replied, needing that touch and to stay where he was for a few minutes.
Time dribbled away, and it was Harold who finally said, “Let’s go clean up.”
Nodding, John got to his feet, proud his knee didn’t crack like it sometimes did. “If you behave, I’ll wear pajamas to bed.”
“Oh, John,” Harold said, laughing a little as they walked together. “You know how to pamper me.”
***
Horses, dogs, cats, even a goat, and Wendy felt like a real city girl. They pooped everywhere. Only the cat had the manners to use a litter box, and she missed her Biggee, but Karen had posted an adorable pic of him on Instagram, so he was fine.
“You should call him and tell him where you are.”
“My cat?” Wendy looked up and frowned at Clarice, tucking her burner phone in her hoodie pocket. They were having lunch on the deck. It was chilly, but sunny, and the chores never seemed to end.
“Oh. From your smile, I thought it was your boo.” Clarice laughed, waving her sandwich in the air. “It does seem like you’re hiding out though. You don’t even post on Instagram anymore.”
“I am hiding out.” Wendy was sure of that. “But mostly from myself. New York chewed me up and spit me out.”
Clarice snorted. “More like you chewed it up and ran off to puke.” She leaned and kissed Wendy with care that was always appreciated. “Did you tell your parents you’re here?”
“I’m nearly thirty.” Wendy rolled her eyes. Her mom was fine, working like always, and her dad was still on the ocean somewhere, doing boat things. Her rave fam was good, Karen seemed happy, so the only itch she had was John, and Harold. Were they okay? Had Dr. Tillman needed to stitch him up lately? Why was John always bleeding? And what had Harold bought lately that would annoy the shit out of Wendy when she found out about it? She shrugged all her questions away. Honestly, she barely knew them, even if she’d had the best sex of her life with them. Running her hand back through her long hair – it needed cut – she sighed. Okay, so she cared about them. Damn it.
“It’s okay, Wendy. I believe in you. You can tackle anything.” Clarice was so nice.
“Thanks. I mean that.” Wendy leaned and stole a kiss. “Hey, we should get pizza for dinner. I’ll buy.”
“You have money?” Clarice teased her. Wendy threw bread at her and laughed.
***
Dr. Tillman started clapping. She’d organized this party, and everyone important had shown up. Macy had smiled and now even had a tear in her eye. It’d be hard to fill her shoes, but the hospital was bigger than one person.
“Thank you so much!”
They hugged, and there were a few gifts, and Dr. Tillman wondered what it’d be like to retire, to move on, not come to the hospital every day. She just couldn’t picture it.
***
“You have that look on your face,” John growled.
“Yes, well, sometimes I dither.” Harold took his face to get some tea, knowing that John would give him a little space. Knowing things – information about people – meant he had to make decisions, and occasionally, he’d rather not.
Relieved at what he’d discovered, his guilt had switched gears. Taking his tea back to his desk, he asked, “I know we discussed this, but do you really think I drove Wendy away?”
“I think it was a lot for a young person to handle.” John wouldn’t lie. “Money can be intimidating in the amounts that you casually throw about.”
“And there were pressures from her job, or so Karen says.” Harold needed to know one piece of information. “Should we... if she ever returns? Would you like to?”
John stared at him for a long moment. “Weren’t a lot of nouns there, but I think that she’s safe, if we wanted to do that, and if she agreed. I wouldn’t.” He paused. “Want her to get attached to us.”
“There is that.” Harold decided to tell him. “She used her credit card in the suburbs of Denver today. She was craving pizza.”
“Denver.” John frowned. “Does she know it’s winter soon?”
“One can only assume.” Harold sipped his tea, finding it good enough. “We can hope she has more than rave outfits with her.”
And they grinned at each other.
***
“Wendy! Can you grab the first aid kit?”
Shocked, Wendy came tearing out of the stall she was cleaning, ran to the kit, which she stupidly hadn’t even looked inside of yet, and nearly killed herself getting through the fence and into the arena. Panting, she looked for blood first, saw nothing, and skidded to a stop next to Rory, Clarice’s boyfriend and fellow horse manager.
Horses were crazy, not in a bad way, and big. Wendy liked them. They were always being stupid. Clarice and Rory had it under control, but they were big. Anything could happen.
His eyes widened. “Take a breath.”
“Where are you hurt?” Wendy might’ve yelled.
“Easy there, Dubya.” Rory put his hands up, and now Wendy saw the blood. “Just caught my arm on a nail. Don’t worry, I pounded it in flat. I only yelled because I didn’t want to get blood on the gate or horses. Really, the horses.”
Occasionally, she wanted to smack Rory. She took his arm, ignored the words that continued to come out of his mouth, and decided to drag him into the office. It wasn’t bad. Wendy opened the gate, so he didn’t wipe blood on it, and he thanked her. She tossed the kit back on the desk and went to wash her hands in the tiny bathroom. Rory stayed right where she’d left him, and now she opened the first aid kit.
“This is almost completely useless!” Wendy shoveled everything around, dumping out a huge amount of gauze. She had to take a deep breath. “Rory, when was your last tetanus shot?”
“No idea.”
“You work with nails, wires and fence every day.” Wendy held Rory’s arm still, finally finding an alcohol wipe. There was one. She saw the wound was superficial, not deep at all, but it had a hole at one end. “You don’t need a stitch. We’ll look up your vaccination record on the internet, but I think you’ll need a shot.”
“Dubya.”
“And I’m going to get you a real first aid kit. Hell, there’s not even a cold pack in here!” Wendy wished for some gloves, but she cleaned him up and wrapped his arm in some gauze before adding tape. All the tape, and she sighed. “Tell me the kit in the house is better than this one.”
“Uh, well, the internet, you say?” Rory shook his head. “You done? I need to check a few things.”
Wendy rolled her eyes and let him go. She scooped up the gauze, stuffed it away in the case, and went back to her stall. When she was done, she’d get this place in shape. As she got the last of the poop, she realized she missed... medicine. Taking care of people was something she enjoyed doing and wasn’t that a kick in the ass. Her mother would gloat, and Wendy frowned. Going back and seeing everyone sounded nice, and Wendy conceded that she wasn’t angry any longer at their meddling. Perhaps, just maybe, she needed to stand up for herself, instead of running away. Leaving town for a rave had always been an easy way to get away from the noise, but this escape had been more serious.
She kicked some straw, knowing it was time to go home.
“Wendy, did you need some help?” Clarice came into the barn.
“Got the last stall, but Clarice, baby, we need to talk.” Wendy liked them, and she liked horses, and this place had been exactly what she’d needed, but she had to go home. There were people she wanted to see, and now, she wouldn’t yell at them.
“Shit.” Clarice hugged her. “Seattle is in two weeks. Give me until then. We’ll hit Zeds Ded hard.”
It was reasonable. “You have to let me fix the first aid kits.” Wendy wasn’t backing down on that. “And Rory needs a tetanus shot.”
***
It was difficult to think about, and John was grateful that he didn’t have a therapist to try to talk with about all this crap. He stared at his coffee cup, letting it all circle in his head again.
Harold was okay, not fine, but recovering from his kidnapping. The wound on his hand would heal. Somehow, John would keep him safe from Root. It helped that Harold was smarter than her. She was more ruthless though, and that couldn’t be underestimated.
“I hope you haven’t waited long?” Harold sat down on the bench a proper distance away. Bear whined, and John scrubbed the dog’s head before motioning him to lie down. Harold didn’t have tea, so John went to get him one, glad the line was short. Returning to him, John took the leash and handed him the tea.
“Hands take a while to get better.”
“It’s very annoying.” Harold thanked him with a small smile. “You seemed lost in thought.”
“Just worrying, I suppose.” John knew they’d dance around the subject. Harold wasn’t ready to make plans and backup plans, but it might be time to give him a little push. “I told the Machine I won’t do this without you.”
Harold’s eyes grew wide, and he fussed with his tea and Bear to cover up his reaction. John waited him out, and eventually, Harold looked at him again. “You’re my contingency.”
John shook his head. “You should’ve asked me first. I’m not doing this without you.”
“The numbers are more important than me.” Harold’s voice was small, almost tired.
“Not to me.” John wasn’t going to lie, not about this. “I won’t. I can’t. You need a different plan.”
“John,” Harold whispered, but he stopped, going back to his tea.
Bear looked up and whined, and John fished out a dog treat from his coat pocket to give to him. John had more to say but now was not the time. Harold seemed too flustered to talk about anything. John finished his coffee, tossed the cup in the trash, and got to his feet.
Bear waited for the command, and John waited for Harold to decide. Harold looked up at him, so much emotion shining in his eyes, and then got to his feet with a groan. “My hip is very angry with me.”
“Not surprised.” John let Harold set the pace and kept Bear respectfully slow. “No number today?”
“No. I suspect the Machine is giving us a break.” Harold looked irritated at that. “We need new phones. I need new encryptions on my computers. All our security needs an upgrade.”
“You think she knows about the library?” John made sure his voice was low.
“It’s a real possibility.” Harold grimaced, and to John’s shock, actually put his hand on John’s arm for stability. “Everyone we care about is in danger.”
“Not any more than usual. She’s not after them, just you.” John didn’t agree with that assessment. “We need a plan, or two.”
Harold nodded, and they continued at a slow pace. The sun was fully up now, and since Harold wasn’t arguing, John hoped they’d actually make those plans. John got them a taxi and gave the address of their latest safehouse.
“You need to rest and take a pain pill.” John didn’t like how tired Harold looked. “Don’t argue.”
The cabbie threw a grin over his shoulder, and Harold sighed. John was going to insist on a quiet day. They both needed it.
***
“Ready?”
Wendy took the time to kiss all the horses goodbye again and then hugged the dogs and the cat. “Rory’s okay with this?”
“He’s got that thing. We’ll be fine. I went alone last year.” Clarice patted her van like she did the horses. “Straight through – twenty hours to Bremerton. We’ll sack out and then take the ferry to Seattle.”
“Wait.” Wendy still got in the van, but she was confused. “I thought we were going to Seattle.”
“Parking and traffic are always a disaster in Seattle. The ferry from Bremerton is free one way if you walk on, and parking there is a breeze.” Clarice got them moving. “I might stop and see my mom after the show.”
“We’re gonna walk from the ferry?” Wendy didn’t want to go to Bremerton. She’d been there before, and it was nothing special, and, just, no. “We’ll die, or get mugged, or something bad.”
“It’s a fifteen-minute walk, more if I get distracted. You’re from New York. You’re tough!” Clarice was laughing at her. “Have you ridden the ferry?”
“No.” Wendy didn’t like boats, not for any reason, but she could tell that Clarice had a plan, and they’d be sticking to it. With a small sigh, Wendy dug out her burner phone. The one that she never called anyone on, because she was hiding, or running away, or something that seemed stupid today. “Think we got enough snacks?”
“Pretty sure, but there are stores along the way.” Clarice didn’t even turn on her GPS. “Relax. Get some sleep, if you can. We’re not stopping, unless we see a good weed store, of course.”
“Yeah,” Wendy said. She took her phone to the sleeping area they’d made from a twin mattress and a buttload of blankets and pillows. Picking up a stuffed animal, she tucked it under her arm and got busy on Google. She wasn’t going to do anything about it, but it wouldn’t hurt to know when the Nimitz was docking. She didn’t care, not at all. She sighed again as she opened her Insta, just to peek.
***
Karen swept up Mr. Biggee, ignoring his meow of protest and kissed him on the head. “I miss her.”
Her phone pinged with a notification, and she decided to ignore it. The Special Kitty needed her love. He’d been down, and she’d bought him a new enormous scratching post, but so far, he’d ignored it. It was time to put some nip on it, add a few toys, and make him like it. He’d thank her later.
***
The Nimitz, in all her glory, made her way into the Salish Sea, and anyone who cared to look ashore would be able to see the people perched here and there along the coastline to catch a view of the big ship. Captain Kaminski did feel a bit of relief to be putting his ship in repairs. She was getting older, and a few things needed addressed.
The plan was to decommission her in 2026, but he didn’t believe it would happen. The Navy just didn’t have enough big ships, at least compared to China, and the Nimitz had a lot of years left in her. If she got some upgrades and repairs, right now.
The only question in his mind is would he still be captain when she put back out to sea. He was nearing retirement age, and depending on how the repairs went, well, he may find himself ashore permanently. The idea didn’t scare him like it once would have, and with that thought, he went up to enjoy coming into their home port.
It might be his last time.
***
“She’s in Boise,” Harold said, out of the blue, before picking up the tennis ball for Bear. The dog’s enthusiasm for his ball never dimmed, and John was amazed that Harold was willing to touch it.
“Alone?” John decided to risk a question.
“Two meals from McDonald’s.” Harold got up and went to rummage for a dog treat. He seemed to be attached to Bear, and John was glad. “I’ve been working on a new base of operations. We need to go over it.”
“You’re sure we’re not bugged here.” John needed that reassurance almost daily.
Harold said nothing. They had been busy lately, and winter might come early this year. John expected delivery of a new pair of gloves any day now. He leaned back in his hard, wooden chair and stretched his back. He liked their library. It felt like home, not that anyone needed to know that, but he didn’t feel safe here any longer.
Root had spoiled it, and John hated her for that, and other things. John was on his second new phone, and he stayed off the computers. She was too good at hacking. Harold put his hand on John’s shoulder – a surprise – and said, “It’s safe here, but I understand.”
“If she brings a team...” It was John’s worst nightmare.
Silence between them stretched. “Let’s go for a drive.” Harold gave him a small pat. “Leave your phone here.”
John nodded, putting on his coat and emptying his pockets. Bear thought another walk was a great idea, and they went out carefully to a car that Harold had purchased two days ago. John preferred to steal them. It took a minute, but then it registered. “This car has no electronics.”
“Bare bones, no computer.” Harold nodded. “Nothing to hack.”
“I’m not sure I remember how to roll down a window.” John upped his estimate of how paranoid Harold was after his kidnapping. “I can’t work the numbers and guard you.”
“Luckily, we have Bear.” Harold seemed to believe that, and it was true. Bear would do his best. Stopping at the light, Harold flexed his hands on the steering wheel. He began talking, starting at security concerns and running through a variety of issues with both people and computers. He also gave quick updates on many of the people that they kept an eye on, and John did nothing but listen.
Trying not to breathe too deeply, John held his body perfectly still. Harold had never trusted him with this kind of information before, and he didn’t want to do anything to interrupt him. They headed out of the city, the car pointed towards Connecticut, and John wouldn’t ask where they were going.
“And Karen Gilchrist called me yesterday. She has a new property listing, but mostly, I think she wanted to gossip about Wendy. She’s very concerned, and apparently, so is Wendy’s mother.”
“Wendy is still off the grid?”
“No contact with anyone, according to Ms. Gilchrist.” Harold had a tiny frown on his face. “Her mother retired from the hospital. The father is coming into port at Bremerton, Washington, any day now.”
John glanced over his shoulder, checking on Bear, who had decided to nap. “She’ll be there. She won’t want to, but she’ll go.”
Harold didn’t reply. He didn’t look convinced. They drove on in silence until finally, Harold sighed. “She’s one of our circle who needs to be iced.”
“Harold.” John flinched at the word Harold used.
“Not like that!” Harold rushed on. “It means when you freeze a person out of your social group.”
“I know!” John wasn’t an idiot, and he didn’t believe Harold for one minute. “You don’t want that. You want me to fly to Washington state and bring her home. Admit it.”
A very deep sigh was Harold’s response. They drove on, and finally, Harold put on the blinker and took them to an all-night diner. John could tell that Harold knew it well. Bear was glad to stretch his legs, and Harold led the way inside.
“Why, Mr. Wren!” The waitress beamed at them. “It’s been...” She looked down. “A dog’s age since we’ve seen you!”
“He’s my service animal.” Harold smiled, and the waitress fawned over him, getting them a booth in the back and promising a bowl of water for Bear. John watched in amazement, merely smiling, and asking Harold a thousand questions with his eyebrows. Harold sighed again. “Yes, I know, and you’re right. I want you to go to Washington state.”
***
The wind from the ferry made Wendy shiver, but she stood out by the rail. The water smelled, and the engines were loud, and people were chattering all around her about the chances of seeing a dolphin. Clarice was sitting inside, after declaring that she wasn’t freezing her ass off.
Seagulls whirled overhead, and she knew, in her head, that this was nothing like what her father did. But, in her heart, she felt the waves and thought, maybe, she heard the song of the ocean. It was dim on the sound. She had been to the beach in this state, and the Pacific roared its way onto the land. Out here, it was different but still compelling.
Some people behind her started talking about the Nimitz, and she moved so she wouldn’t have to hear it. The waves lapped the ferry, and it was ridiculous, but she’d go see her father, and this time, without her mother’s looming presence, she’d ask the question that burned inside her.
***
“I’m not leaving you alone.” John waited until they were back inside the car to say it. This time, he was driving.
Harold didn’t even put on his seatbelt. He just sat with his hands in his lap. “You know how I am.” He took a deep breath. “I’d just feel better if I knew she was safe.”
“It’s hell getting attached.” John understood that Harold needed to feel in control, especially now that Root had taken it from him. “Her concert is tonight. Why don’t you VIP her?” He wasn’t going. “Arrange for a private plane to bring her home. Hire someone to shadow her. There are solutions that don’t involve me leaving New York.”
“You’re right.” Harold took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I suppose I’m tired.”
“Don’t let your paranoia blind you to solutions.” John hated to lecture him, but he needed a wakeup call. He was worried about Wendy, too. And he still wasn’t leaving. “Put on your seatbelt.”
Glasses first, and then he obeyed. John didn’t waste time getting the car moving towards a new safehouse. They needed some rest.
***
They made the last ferry back to Seattle after the show, and Wendy was reluctantly glad she hadn’t worn her awesome boots. Running that last block would’ve killed her.
Laughing, they collapsed into chairs, and before they could catch their breath, the ferry left the dock. Clarice went to pee, and Wendy couldn’t resist the urge to go to the starboard side and watch Seattle fall away. The electricity of the show still danced in her veins, and she grinned at the Space Needle, shining in the night. It was beautiful, and the view from the ferry was spectacular.
“Best show ever!” Clarice did a crazy dance, hands up to the sky. Wendy laughed, grabbing her arm and shuffling to the music in her heart. The waves slapped, the wind tore at them, and they threw their joy into the world, not caring about strangers staring.
***
John was a few minutes late getting to the library. Bear had slowed him down, but it was the complete silence that further slowed his steps. No computer noise, nothing, and he drew his gun, putting Bear on alert.
Harold wasn’t in his usual spot.
The library was... less than it had been. Books were missing. The monitors were covered, and John checked everywhere, but Harold wasn’t home. Bear whined, and John told him to stand down. They went back to the main room, and John found a note tucked inside his coffee can. The tea had been taken.
Mr. Reese, I apologized for this turn of events, but I’m going to ground, as they say. I’m sure she’s found us again, and I won’t risk you. Use the Warren identity, find a new place to live, and stay away from all our haunts. For now, the numbers will have to wait. Be careful, Harold Finch.
Reading it twice, he folded it again and tucked it inside his coat. He took a deep breath, furious at himself for not seeing this coming. They’d made plans, but he’d known that Harold always had plans that John didn’t know about, and he was still blindsided.
The numbers were finished. John forced his jaw to unclench. People would die because of this decision. Because Root had forced Harold to do this, over the damn Machine. John needed to punch someone, but first, he had to clear out of the library.
And then, he’d make his own decisions. “Bear, we’ve got work to do.”
Bear looked up at him and whined. John stroked the big dog’s head. He’d get her for this. “Don’t worry. Root is as good as dead.”
***
Clarice dropped Wendy off at a motel not far from the shipyard in Bremerton, but Wendy could tell that her friend wasn’t happy about it.
“Clary, baby, it’ll be fine. You know I’m New York tough.”
“You were scared of the ferry.” But Clarice nodded. “If it doesn’t work out, I’m going to my mom’s place in Portland. I’ll swing back up and get you.”
“No worries. I’ll fly home. There has to be a way to Sea-Tac from here.” Wendy needed this and didn’t really understand why. “Kiss everyone for me, especially the cat.”
“Oh, Wendy.” Clarice grinned. “See you at Electric Forest?”
“Rave fam forever.” Wendy would be there. “Thanks, Clarice. For real.”
She leaned, and they kissed before Wendy made her feet take her towards the door. She turned to wave and blew a last kiss at the bumper of the van. Clarice honked goodbye, and Wendy didn’t wipe a tear from her eye. They’d see each other again.
The motel didn’t suck, and they gave her a tiny flag to wave at the Nimitz tomorrow. She wouldn’t be doing that. It felt too much like celebrating the enormous military complex that sucked the United States dry of funds, so no one got free college or decent healthcare. But that was an argument for Christmas, and she ordered DoorDash to eat in her room. All she wanted to do was sleep until her father’s ship docked.
She worried about finding her way to the right ship – the Nimitz was part of a group, after all – but it turned out all she had to do was follow the crowd. An easy walk, considering New York, and flashbacks of her childhood started blipping in and out. Her mother had been so nervous that day. Her dad wasn’t even a captain yet, and she honestly wasn’t sure which ship it’d been.
Not this big. She was sure of that. The Nimitz was... huge, really big. And as she stared up at the sailors at their post on the top deck, and the people cheering, something crept over her. Pride for her father and what he was doing for his country, and it made her squirm inside. She didn’t agree with the politics of the American war machine, but... her father had dedicated his life to the Navy. He’d told her more than once it was what he’d always wanted, even from childhood. She respected anybody who had the courage to follow their own path, no matter how rocky it was.
A little kid smacked Wendy’s leg with a flag, and Wendy laughed as she ducked away to find a safer place to watch the sailors come down the gangplank. Her father wouldn’t be among them. He’d leave in a week or so, sure as hell not today, but whenever he’d personally inspected every nook and cranny and made sure. Made sure of what, Wendy didn’t know.
The sheer number of men and women debarking made Wendy consider that her father – the captain – was responsible for every one of them. She had never been the boss of anyone, anything, except maybe her cat, who’d argue with her about that.
“You’re home!”
“Took me forever to walk off that ship! I got lost once a day!”
Wendy stayed turned away, but they were near enough to hear every word and kiss.
“You were never good at directions.” They laughed together, and Wendy went down closer as the crowd began to thin out. The news people and photographers were here, of course, and some officers without satchels so they must’ve been there to make sure everyone got off. Wendy had no idea. She knew hospitals. How they ran, when they didn’t, and when to leave the building, but ships were a mystery she didn’t want to solve.
“Do you need help?” The officer who stepped in front of her was tall, gorgeous, and Wendy gazed up at her, speechless. “Did you find your family? I can help.”
Staring for one moment longer, Wendy recognized that she might have a kink for women in uniform. Her mind went blank, but her mouth started shooting out words. “Yes! I mean no! I mean,” she took a breath, “I’m the captain’s daughter, Wendy Kaminski, but I know he won’t leave today!” She wanted to touch her uniform. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she breathed, knowing that she was an idiot.
“I’m Lieutenant Ramirez.” She smiled down at her. “And you look like the captain, no offense.”
And before Wendy could ask to touch her hat, the goddess of the sea had called people and made a fuss, and it was very confusing, but her father was grabbing her and hugging her so hard. She didn’t understand, and it didn't matter, and if she cried, it was because everyone else was, not that she was full of emotions.
Her father put her at arm’s length and grinned. “Did the wind blow you here?”
It was their old joke, and she laughed. “It did. Nice ship, Dad.”
“She’s a grand old lady.” He smiled down at her, but his voice was dead serious. “She was never more important than you.”
And, in this moment, Wendy believed him, blurting out the stupid question that lived rent-free in the back of her head. “The ocean didn’t steal you away?”
His eyes widened, and he hesitated as he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Yes. But. No, I went willingly.”
For the first time, she saw herself in him, and she forgave him for following his dream, even though ships were gross. “And you love it.”
“God help me, I do.” He was nodding, smile draining away. “Can you forgive me?”
“Yes.” Wendy meant that, something old and sad inside her healing. “Family is hard, sometimes.”
“It is.” He tucked her into his side and put his arm around her. “Come aboard. I’ll show you the bridge.”
“Is that allowed?” Wendy didn’t want to get him into trouble with the president, or whoever was in charge of enormous ships.
“I’m the captain, dear.” He pulled, and she went while making a list of questions. Lt. Ramirez trailed behind them, and Wendy was asking for her number later.
***
The Warren Identity didn’t feel secure, so John only used it once or twice. Living out of a car wasn’t the most comfortable but staying on the move felt like staying alive. He watched the library through a small surveillance camera that he’d set up. Harold would be appalled, but it worked.
No one went in or out, but if Harold was spooked, there was a reason.
John could admit that he enjoyed Bear’s company. It seemed a little less lonely with someone to take care of, and Bear didn’t mind roughing it. New York in late November wasn’t as cold as it was going to get. One night when the temp dipped too low, John rented a room by the hour, for Bear’s sake, of course.
He bought a police scanner, and if he couldn’t be there early, he still got there. Once, he was sure he helped, but mostly, he fumed. Bear licked him on the ear, and he patted him on the head. This entire situation made him furious, and there was nothing he could do, except trust that Harold was working on it.
A payphone rang, pulling John out of his gloomy thoughts, and he didn’t question it. He went for it, nearly tearing the receiver off in his enthusiasm. Dead air, nothing, and he waited.
“Harold?”
Faintly, John heard it, and he was embarrassed at how long it took him to figure out it was Morse code. Luckily, it repeated, and he clutched at the letters turning into words.
Be patient almost done.
With care, he put the receiver back and got Bear moving down the sidewalk with him before anyone noticed that he wanted to punch people and tear at his hair. They got in the car, and he drove to New Jersey where he got a decent hotel, paying cash.
Bear seemed glad to see a bed, and John did his laundry - no suits now - and trimmed his face, so the scruff looked intentional. He was fine. Harold was fine. There must be a plan. John believed in Harold. Harold wouldn’t hang him out to dry, or burn him, or abandon him.
John sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his face. He hoped, and there was nothing worse than that.
***
Harold didn’t remember the last time he’d slept, or eaten, or done anything but sit at his array of computers.
Nothing mattered but this task. It had to be done. Miss Groves – Root – had been right. Harold was a monster, and he chained his only child to a terrible existence.
But John mattered. The thought nudged into his mind, and he worked faster, harder. This was his life’s work, right here, right now, and this time, he’d get it right. And then he’d find John and tell him how much he cared.
***
November crashed into December, and John almost did so many things.
Waiting, trying not to screw up through his impatience; Harold had never asked so much of him.
***
“I usually fly coach.” Her dad looked uncertain.
“A complimentary bump to first class for our military personnel isn’t unusual.” The stewardess smiled.
Wendy nudged him. “Take it, Dad.” She had a feeling a certain someone who liked three-piece suits was behind it. Her large motel bill mysteriously paid, VIP tickets to the show, and now this? Someone, and she knew who, was pushing money her direction. Later, she might growl at him, but now she smiled her very best. “Thank you so much! Tell the pilot not to worry, dad only knows how to drive boats!”
The stewardess laughed at the lame joke. “I’ll tell him, and thank you for your service, Captain Kaminski.”
“Er, well, thank you.” Dan flushed, and Wendy watched her father fumble his way onto the plane and turn red in the face when the captain of the plane thanked him over the intercom. There was clapping, and her dad waved his hand in the air. “Good lord,” he whispered.
“I didn’t know you were famous. I better text Mom.” Wendy teased him. He glared at her, and she grinned.
The confidence she’d seen in him on his ship was muted, and he was just her dad now, a little quiet, shy and determined. She supposed like everyone, he was more than one thing. Fuck, this was awful. She’d grown up, somewhere along the line, and she saw him. Maybe it was time to let go of her childhood pains and have a relationship with her parents based on who they were as people now. God, it sounded like a lot of work.
“Dad, I need to tell you a story, and I need your advice.”
Dan sighed and shook his head. “You’re too careful to get pregnant, and I know you don’t need money, so I’m frightened, truly.” He took her by the hand. “Can it wait until they serve the booze?”
“You bet. Get a double.” Wendy would take out the spicy parts.
***
The King of Canned Tuna, the Prince of all Purinas, both delicious and pukey, meowed up at Karen, demanding his due as her overlord.
“Geez, Biggee, when Wendy gets back, she’s gonna kill me!” Karen wasn’t feeding him again, not until later. “You weigh a ton!”
Biggee grumbled, winding his way through her legs. She’d tripped over him last week and nearly died. He was solid.
Someone knocked on the door, and she considered hiding. It was after business hours. She was tired, and she hated people lately. Wendy was gone. Harold wasn’t around at all, and her parents nagged at her to move home daily because she shouldn’t live alone.
The knock came again, a little more insistent, and she sighed dramatically before going to get it. The Champion of Churu dashed away, and she yanked it open.
“Karen Gilchrist?”
Karen nodded, noticing the nice boots the lady was wearing and wondering if they’d been on sale somewhere local. “I’m not working right now, so we can set up an appointment for tomorrow?”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m your only client for the foreseeable future.” The woman stepped inside and shut the door hard. “I know you have time.”
“Well, I...” Karen blinked several times, not understanding, but she did like money. “I suppose.” But she wasn’t making coffee. This lady was pushy, probably from the Bronx. “I guess we could talk.”
“Great idea.” She smirked, snooping around. “I’m Root. And you’re going to help me find Harold Finch.”
Karen’s natural attitude of going along to get along flew out the window. She straightened her spine and waved her hand at the door. “I think you should leave. My boyfriend is coming over, with his parents, and I haven’t got time for this.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” Root pulled a small caliber pistol from her coat pocket. “Let’s find you a chair.”
“I’d rather stand. I don’t know anyone named Finch. Get out!”
Root smiled, it looked mean, and Karen didn’t appreciate having to sit in her office chair while the crazy woman paced back and forth. “Tell me everything you know!”
“Geez.” Karen rolled her eyes. “My dad’s a taxi driver – got his own medallion – and that little gun is nothing more than a pea shooter.” She sighed. “I suppose it’d hurt though. Now, what did you want?”
“I want Harold Finch. You do business with him, helping him buy his little buildings all over town. I need his phone number, address, whatever you have.”
Karen looked her up and down. “Nice boots. Good boots in December are important. My mother always buys a new pair and then wears her old ones until they fall apart.” She watched the gun, and it wasn’t wavering. This bitch would probably shoot her. “Okay, so I only know one Harold. Harold Wren, and we went on this date together, and the guy is loaded.”
“You went on a date with Harold?” Her eyes widened, mouth drooping. “Are you a computer programmer?”
“Hah! No.” Karen laughed. She leaned forward. “I can tell you want all the details.”
***
John pulled up sharp when the payphone down the street rang, and he hurried, Bear right at his side. He yanked it to his ear.
Who’s bending down to give me a rainbow? Everyone knows it’s Windy.
The song poured from the receiver; John had one pure moment of panic, and then he was running, details sliding into place, plans forming, shot like an arrow pointed at Wendy’s apartment.
***
They caught a cab to Wendy’s apartment from the airport. Wendy would let her dad pay the bill. Her mother planned to drive down into the city tomorrow. That had been an awkward phone call. Her mother had cried, which had made Wendy feel terrible, and her father had taken the phone to the bathroom in her hotel for privacy. Wendy sighed. She’d have to talk to her, and it would probably involve more tears. Hopefully, it could wait until Connecticut.
Mr. Biggee was going to demand some time, so Wendy intended to shoo her parents off first thing in the morning and then do her laundry. She’d give them a week before showing up in Connecticut. They could pick her up at the train station.
That was Wendy’s plan. So far, her dad had just hummed, which didn’t mean much of anything. The city seemed to swallow them up. It was cold, rainy, and dirty, and Wendy’s heart soared. She was home.
***
“Plan D?” Harold yelled across the apartment in his frustration, grabbing his coat and scarf. “I’m not ready!”
***
“So, then, he says that the property over on West 51st is a real steal!” Karen scoffed. “I knew it was a scam. He may have money, but there was no way it could be listed at that price.” She laughed. “For once, I was right, and that was satisfying.”
Root waved the gun back and forth. “You’re making my brain ooze. Do you have his phone number?”
Karen wasn’t giving up that easy on someone she called a friend. “I have his business number. Google it. Wait until office hours. He’s usually around. We had a good time that first night. My cheeks were so red. I drank way too much wine!”
“You had sex with him?” Root’s voice was high pitched, nearly a scream.
“Do I look like a slut to you?” Karen got to her feet and pointed an angry finger at her and her stupid gun.
“I will shoot you.” Root’s voice dropped into this scary growl.
“We’re home!” Wendy came busting through the door, and Karen turned to wave to her and her dad. They stopped, dropped their luggage, and stared. “What the fuck?”
“Stop right there!” Root tried to cover them all, and Karen still grabbed Wendy in a hug.
“You’re here!” She yelled, loving her friend so much. “I thought you were gone forever!”
“Nah. I missed you, and Biggee, and you know, New York.” Wendy grinned, and Root ordered them all to stay together.
“Who is this?” Dan growled, moving them in a different direction and trying to pull Wendy back. “A robber? Does she want money?”
“With those boots? She’s fine.” Wendy scooted Karen around behind her. “Where is my big man?”
An unholy yowl came from the back of the apartment, and Karen could only gape in astonishment as a million different things happened at once.
Biggee, in all his massive glory, came barreling towards Wendy. A scruffy, homeless guy flew through the kitchen window, dropping a huge dog and yelling in some foreign language. Root started screaming about something or another that made no sense, waving her gun around like she’d shoot them all.
“A dog! Holy shit! Everyone get down!” Wendy yelled.
Karen flattened herself and put her hands over her head. She knew the stories from the last time Mr. Biggee had met a dog, and all hell was about to break loose. Dan dropped practically on top of her, and the yowls of the High Lord of Purinas were answered by crazy dog barks. Wendy started cursing like a sailor, which, honestly, with her dad seemed reasonable.
“Good to see you, Dan. Ocean treated you well?” Karen asked, trying to be polite.
“It was a good tour.” He gave her a hug.
Biggee tore through the apartment, destroying everything in his wake, furious at the stinky dog. Karen would be able to tell this story at the hairdresser for years. Biggee wanted to rip the dog’s face, and the dog chased after him, jumping and barking. The crazy woman got in their way, and Biggee ran straight up her, probably looking for the highest point. Cats were like that, and the screaming was epic. The dog jumped up on Root, and they were both running again, leaving behind streaks of blood.
“What the actual fuck?” Wendy yelled.
“Bear!”
Karen’s mouth dropped open, and a memory from college flashed through her mind. She and Wendy were freshmen at Hudson University, naturally, and Wendy played on the rugby team. She said it was just to meet cute girls, but God forbid anyone get in her way when she had the ball. The homeless guy lunged, Biggee toppled the enormous scratching post right before Root fired off a shot, and Wendy, well, she took care of business.
Root wasn’t going to be bothering anyone until tomorrow, not after her head bounced on the floor like that. The homeless guy scooped up the gun. The cat ran by them all again, and the dog skidded to a stop, dropping to his belly.
“John?”
“Hello, Wendy.” John, if it was him, had gone from unicorn to beaten down carriage horse. Dan helped Karen to her feet, and it was hard not to stare at him. He looked so sad, and angry, and just not happy.
Wendy rushed to him, looking him up and down. “Did she get you?”
“She missed, thanks to that hellcat.” John gave her a pat on the shoulder. Wendy let out a huge sigh of relief, and so did Karen, but Biggee was still pissed.
“Dad, this is John. No idea who the dog is, or that woman.” Wendy spun around and pointed down at the brown hound. “Dogs are not allowed in my apartment!”
Biggee screamed his anger.
“He’s gonna shit in my shoes.” Karen had to sit down. Right as her butt hit a chair, the door opened again. She was investing in multiple locks, and Harold came inside with a guilty look on his face. Karen put her hand over her mouth and lost it, giggling. New York was the greatest city on Earth.
***
John zip tied her hands and feet together and carried her down to a waiting limo like a sack of grain. There’d been a short discussion about calling the police, but Wendy had backed John up on how that wasn’t necessary. Harold fussed around him every step of the way, and it was hard not to pull him into a long hug. Bear barked several times, probably still pissed at that cat, which had been the size of a small pony. Harold gave orders, and John put her on the seat opposite them.
Shoving smelling salts under her nose, Wendy had provided them, Root started coughing and coming around. Harold said nothing, face blank, and John wanted to kill her, but apparently, they weren’t doing that.
“Good to see you, Harold.” John made Bear lie down and told him to guard.
“I have sincerely missed you, Mr. Reese.” Harold put his hand on John’s. “This was unforeseen.”
“Who knew Wendy could tackle like that?” John liked that in a woman.
“You two lovebirds gonna fuck in front of me?” Root snarled, fighting her restraints. “I’ll kill them! Watch me!”
“Oh, dear. Miss Groves-”
“It’s Root!”
“Yes, Miss Groves,” Harold said in a firm voice, “I took your advice. Don’t bother looking for servers. She doesn’t need them any longer.” He reached into his coat pocket and handed John an earbud and a phone. “Put this in her ear and pocket. Don’t let her bite you.”
“Okay.” John didn’t have any trouble because the instant it was in her ear, she stopped fighting. “Good?”
“Excellent. Good luck, Miss Groves.” Harold opened the door, not once looking back at her. “Leave a knife on the bench, Mr. Reese. Driver, you know where to go!”
John scrambled out after Harold, tossing a knife on the seat and making sure Bear was close. “You sure?”
“Yes.” Harold shut the door, and the limo pulled away. “She won’t bother us again.”
“I could’ve killed her.” John felt like that needed to be said.
“I know.” Harold took John by the arm. John curled into him, not a true hug, but close, and Harold put his hand on John’s cheek. “You are a ragged man, Mr. Reese.”
“I was hiding.” John kissed him on the side of the head. “Can you take Bear? I need to help Wendy with that broken window.”
“Of course. Second safehouse. I’ll get dinner.”
John was sure he was a little light-headed. “You won’t disappear?”
Harold pulled him down and kissed him. “Absolutely not.” And he took the leash from John’s slack hand and started down the sidewalk.
“Be safe!” John yelled after him, lips tingling. And he hurried upstairs to Wendy’s apartment. She was outside the door, and she was grinning. He narrowed his eyes. “You saw nothing.”
“Nothing but New York City working its magic.” Wendy shut the door behind him and locked it. “I need more locks, John.”
“And a security system.” John would take care of it. “Welcome home.”
“Thanks. Oh, and this is my dad, Captain Dan Kaminski of the Nimitz.” She sounded proud.
“John Warren, nice to meet you.” John shook his hand. “Sorry for the mess.”
“We’ll get it sorted. Wendy needs to handle that enormous cat of hers!”
Wendy dashed off, pulling Karen behind her, and Dan looked him up and down. “Marine?”
“Army Special Forces.” John’s pride made him say it. “I’ve been consulting with NYPD Blue.” Not a lie, exactly, just that NYPD didn’t always know about the collaboration.
“Wendy says your good people.” Dan turned away, going to the broken window with the cold coming inside. “You start pulling it apart. Don’t cut yourself or Wendy will fuss for hours, and I’ll go find something to board it up with.”
“Yes, sir.” John couldn’t resist.
“No dogs! Ever!” Wendy’s yelling carried easily from the back bedroom. John found a trash can and got busy tugging the shards of glass from the wood. He also found a broom and swept the cabinet and floor. He needed to get back to Harold, not that he was worried, but he still did a thorough job.
The cat yowled again, and Karen hurried by him, opening a cabinet. “This is a cat food emergency. I’m thinking two Churu's, at least.” She hesitated. “Harold’s okay?”
“He’s fine.” John smiled to reassure her. “Good job, Karen.” She’d stayed calm with a gun pointed at her, and that wasn’t easy. She was made of tougher stuff than he’d thought.
“That woman isn’t from New York. Little gun like that doesn’t even bruise. Oh, you have glass in your hair.” She flounced away, clutching two long packages of something called a Churu. John leaned over the trash can and carefully brushed out his hair, laughing softly as he worked. All the worry and certainty that he’d been abandoned washed away to the sound of cat curses, Wendy complaining, and her dad giving her a lecture about having a basic toolbox, not just a first aid kit.
About the time John had the window stripped down, there was a knock at the door. Dan got it, cautiously, and it was a maintenance man with credentials that John checked.
“Now, that’s good thinking,” Dan said.
“Harold owns the building. I’m sure he was offended that I broke the window.” John pushed the cat scratching post upright and faded away as Dan took over. Wendy came into view before he shut the door. She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows, looking silly, and he made sure she locked up.
Harold. Right now.
***
It was ridiculous to be nervous. Harold had to stop fussing, putting his hand to his heart and forcing himself to take several deep breaths. Bear nosed him, and Harold agreed. He’d concentrate on the food. John needed a good meal.
There were clean clothes here and a shower. Some healthy food would be the start of making this right. The look on John’s face had nearly struck Harold down. John, though he’d never admit it, needed so much. He’d been steadfast, loyal to a fault, and his trust was a true gift. Guilt had been Harold’s first reaction, but that had stemmed from Harold’s belief that he didn’t deserve John’s devotion.
Feeling like that had been swept away when John touched him. Harold might not deserve it, but he was going to latch onto it and never let go. He’d turned from love before, and he wasn’t doing that again. John needed it, clearly wanted it, and Harold was going to do his best to see that John received all the things he wanted. Even if it was difficult, and sometimes, it would be.
Harold tidied as he moved through the small house, ordering food through Grubhub. Bear paced along behind him, and Harold made a note to get him to the groomer. There was no dog bed at this location, so Harold made him a spot with a thick blanket. Bear got the idea immediately, and Harold patted him on the head before going to clean up the dining room table that was currently covered in laptops.
“Primary asset is in transit.”
“You are not allowed to speak while he’s here.” Harold shut the last laptop firmly, knowing that it wouldn’t restrict his child’s obnoxious behavior. “He’ll panic. I’ll ease him into this.”
“Agreed. Miss Groves is reacting as promised. Beginning search for multiple teams across all cities.”
“This could’ve been an email.” Harold started putting laptops in their respective bags, but he didn’t mute his phone. The brat would just turn it back on anyway. He could only hope she – his creation had insisted on that gender – would honor his wishes.
The doorbell rang, and Bear helped him take the bags of food to the table. Harold tipped the young man well enough to apologize for Bear’s enthusiasm. Before he could unload the bags, he needed to put cables away. Finally, the table was clear, and a quick rap at the door could only be John.
Harold swallowed hard, tugged his suit straight, and went to get it.
“Harold?” John looked worried.
“Come in, Mr. Reese,” Harold said, letting him lock up and take a good look around. “I swept for bugs earlier.” He did that regularly in all their houses. “Bear has helped me bring in the food, but we need to eat before it gets cold.”
“Steak for him?”
“Of course! He earned one for surviving his encounter with that enormous cat!” Harold was having a hard time not smiling wide enough to frighten him. “Tell me everything.”
John twitched the drapes for the third time and then paced over to him. His face was so serious, and Harold made sure not to take a step backwards. Their eyes met, and then John was holding him, not too tightly. Harold sighed, not even concerned about the food. They needed this touch, and he let it last as long as he could before drawing back and patting John on the chest.
“Food. You’re thin.” Harold needed the distraction. He struggled with intimacy, feeling vulnerable and disliking it. But this was John, who seen Harold at his best and worst, and for some reason, John was insisting on staying with him. “You have clothes here.”
“A shower would be a good idea. I think I still have glass in my hair.” John smiled, but he was nervous. Harold could tell.
Together, they unloaded the bags, divvied up the food, and fed their waiting dog, who was thrilled with his T-bone steak. John sat next to him, and Harold felt like his entire body was humming.
“Wendy?” Harold asked.
John nodded and started filling Harold in on the events after they’d parted. “You liked her father?”
“He’s Navy, but he...” John paused a moment. “He was good, solid, and didn’t panic when Root was screaming.”
Harold hoped for Wendy’s sake she would find some peace in her relationship with her parents. Time had a tendency to slip away, and it was too late when they were gone. “How did you know to go to Wendy’s loft?” Harold had his suspicions.
“You know the song.” John hummed a few bars. “Pay phone.”
“Ah, yes.” Harold knew his machine had meddled and thank heavens she had. “I had a number of plans in place, but I truly thought Root would track us through Detective Fusco.”
“I think you’ll have to buy another one of Karen’s listings to make it up to her.” John smiled. “She wasn’t impressed with Root at all.”
They chuckled together. “We need to hire that cat.” Harold was teasing. “He was terrifying!”
“I had no idea cats got that big.” John pushed his plate away. “I’ll go shower.”
Nodding, Harold began the cleanup, giving Bear a few more leftovers and putting the rest in the fridge. He didn’t rush, and he knew he shouldn’t, but he drifted to the bedroom to sit and wait for John to finish his shower.
The water snapped off, the door opened, and that towel barely concealed anything. Harold covered his mouth with his hand. “Good lord,” he whispered. He’d seen all that lovely skin before but never damp.
Not posing, but also not covering up, John slid his hand through his wet hair. It was rather long. “That felt good. Harold, I’m tired of sleeping in a car.”
“I applaud your honesty.” Harold should’ve known that John would prefer that over a nice hotel. “Is your scruff a disguise?” He wanted to touch it.
“Pretty good one, huh?” John pulled the towel off and scrubbed his hair again. “I walked right by Fusco, and he never noticed.”
There were no words capable of pushing their way out of Harold’s mouth. He needed to lick his lips. John disappeared to hang up the towel, or so Harold assumed, and he tried to find his courage by sliding off his suitcoat.
“Let me help.” John’s hands were steady on Harold’s buttons, and Harold did his best to keep breathing. John kissed him several times but not on the mouth. “I know this is hard for you. No pressure.”
Whispering, Harold wanted to find his courage. “I want, but I’m afraid.”
“Me too.” John knelt and took off Harold’s shoes and socks. “I could take the dog out?”
“Not yet, please.” Harold got to his feet and nudged his way to the closet to hang up his clothes properly. Letting John see him in just his boxers made his heart race. His scars were ugly, and he was no longer a young man. It was difficult to trust that John was right where he wanted to be. “I missed you.” He wasn’t brave enough to say the words loudly.
“Same.” John ran his hand down Harold’s arm. “Neck pain? Hip?”
“No worse than usual.” Harold would tell John about surgical options much later. He’d only recently begun to consider them himself at the prodding of his bratty creation. “And you without any bullet holes for a change.”
“It was close. I think the cat threw off her aim.” John licked his lips. He abruptly moved, turning off all the lights except a lamp on the bedside table. “Bed?”
Harold managed a nod, going to his usual side and being careful not to hurt himself in a rush to get his hands on John’s chest. He sincerely hoped he didn’t pass out.
“Take a breath.” John steadied him with a single touch. “We have all night.”
“We could have all the nights?” Harold wanted them, and he felt as if he needed to ask early so John could run away if he needed to go.
“Harold, you’re not leaving me behind again. I bought some new trackers.” John smirked, taking off Harold’s glasses and putting them aside. “I’ll sew them into your underwear.”
Smiling but feeling aghast at what he’d done to this fine man, Harold made a promise he’d keep. “I’ll let you.”
“Good.” John kissed him, taking his time to make Harold’s head spin. “I do need to take the dog out.”
“I’ll wait here. Set the alarms.” Harold had known John would. “And don’t lock yourself out.” He wasn’t in a hurry either.
***
So many emotions were running in his head that John needed a minute in the fresh air, and Bear was the perfect excuse. This house had a nice, fenced yard, and Bear was polite enough not to jump it and run off. While Bear did his job, John inspected the grill and decided they might keep this house. It was comfortable.
Harold wanted him. John took a deep breath. Harold had fulfilled the hope that John had for him. It was enough to make John’s chest ache. Bear ran by, so happy, and John smiled. Tonight, they had tonight, and John needed several deep breaths. He was determined they’d have every night, even the ones when Harold was grouchy, and John was bleeding.
Bear ran back to the door, making his wishes known, and John followed him inside. “Go to your bed,” he said, taking a minute to make sure of the alarm and scooping up both of their phones, abandoned on the dinner table. He’d need a better one.
“Chargers?”
“Set mine on the nightstand, please.” Harold seemed more relaxed. “Throw your phone in the toilet.”
A little shocked, John laughed. He tossed it down next to Harold’s instead. “That might clog it.” He shucked off his sweats and T-shirt and slid under the covers. “This bed is heaven.”
“It certainly is.” Harold put his hand on John’s ribs. “Because I have an angel in bed with me.”
Groaning, John found some skin on Harold to touch. “That was horrible.”
“And fun.” Harold slid his fingers through John’s wet hair. “I thought if you stepped out a moment, I might be able to catch my breath.”
Looking up from where John was seriously considering licking, he nodded. “Me, too.”
“It didn’t work.”
“True.” John pushed the covers down. “May I?”
“Consent is given.” Harold was so serious, and John was charmed by it. He lowered his head and took full advantage, loving every groan and gasp that Harold couldn’t keep inside. “I can’t,” Harold whispered, and he orgasmed, John swallowed but pulled off so Harold could recover. Harold groped down John’s aching body and with one stroke sent John spiraling. His eyes couldn’t stay open, and he lay there, feeling the best he ever had.
“What are you thinking?” John asked, needing to know.
“Nothing.” Harold sighed, and John managed to look at him. They shared a rough chuckle. John eased away, cleaned up and took a warm washcloth back to bed. Harold didn’t fuss or protest. He was sprawled, looking more relaxed than John had ever seen him. “Thank you, Mr. Reese.”
“Oh, my pleasure.” John took the washcloth to the sink, rinsed it out, and found a toothbrush to use. He felt a little wobbly, and it was nice. Clicking off the table lamp, he got in bed, pulled the covers up and fell asleep with his hand on Harold’s thigh.
***
Wendy went for the coffee, almost fell over her cat, who now weighed a metric shit ton, and then stopped in the living room to stare.
“Mom. Dad.” This didn’t seem right.
They waved their coffee at her from where they were snuggled up under a blanket on her sofa. They looked... smug, and her mom smiled. “This is nice. Reminds me of our early days, Dan.”
Her dad nodded. “Good times. Did we ever tell you how we met, Wendy?”
“No,” Wendy muttered, knowing she wasn’t having a quiet moment with her coffee today. She got her favorite mug, clasping it to her chest, ridiculously pleased to see it. Her cat meowed at her, and the world was on track. “Shit, I don’t have a job to go to,” she mumbled, not wanting to deal with that.
“What were you doing when I first saw you, Macy?” Her dad laughed.
“Shots.” And her mom yowled.
“It is seven in the morning, you freaks.” Wendy added both milk and sugar, needing comfort. “Don’t you have jobs?”
“I quit.” Her mom said the words softly, like they hurt.
“I’m on leave, then light duty until my discharge goes through. By the time the Nimitz is ready, I’ll be retired. For the record, it was their idea, but I didn’t argue about it.” Her dad sounded regretful but determined.
Wendy set her mug down, leaned over, hands on knees, and tried to take deep breaths. “Oh, sweet Neptune, give me strength.”
“Wendy? Why are we awake?” Karen’s voice was barely louder than a whispered mumble.
“I have no idea, Karen.” Wendy got her a mug down, nearly laughing at the level of destruction in her hair. “You guys came here when Aunt Lisa was alive?” The question just popped out.
“Sweetie, I lived here with Aunt Lisa. Fleet Week blew your dad ashore, and the rest is history.”
“It was windy that day,” her dad drawled. “I’m still going to Fleet Week.”
“I’d expect nothing else.” Macy kissed him on the cheek.
“Okay, you two go home.” Wendy had reached her limit. “I’ll take the train up in a week. Or so.” She slurped her coffee.
“I sold the house.” Her mother didn’t even sugar coat it. “Everything I thought you’d want is in storage. Your father and I are tired of Connecticut.”
“How can you be tired of a house you never lived in?” Wendy didn’t pull her punch.
Karen whispered. “Ouch. You know, I’m taking my coffee to bed and then going home for a couple of days. My mom heard about the crazy lady and has sent me seven texts already.”
“I’ll call her to reassure her,” Dan said. “Thank you, Karen.”
Wendy curled up in her favorite chair with her coffee, reassured when Biggee took his place on her lap. He knew she needed love. “Hello, kitty. Why are you so fat?”
Biggee meowed. Wendy stroked him and let the coffee soothe her brain. That house had always been too big for even the three of them. “Sorry I criticized. I guess the house wasn’t right for you any longer.”
“It was a trifle lonely,” Macy whispered. “It needed a family with lots of kids.” She shrugged. “I got us a walk-up apartment in Manhattan until Dan finds us a boat.”
Dan hugged her, but Wendy noticed he didn’t apologize, which would’ve been a lie. Then the rest of it settled, and Wendy blurted, “A boat?”
“We have to live somewhere,” her dad said, and he grinned like a kid.
Wendy figured she should offer them room, but her mouth refused to do it. They were adults. They would figure it out, and a boat was an awful idea that they’d probably enjoy. Ugh. She sighed and focused on Biggee and her coffee, enjoying the silence that settled around her until Karen blew through the room, hugged everyone, and fled like she was on fire.
“She’ll be okay,” Wendy said, not worried too much. “She’s tough.”
“She is,” Macy agreed. “Is your John coming over today?”
“He’s not mine. He has a boyfriend.” Wendy liked that about him, giving her mom the side-eye. “We’re friends, that’s all.” Which would always make her a little sad, but there were other unicorns in the sea. “He doesn’t even rave.”
“Deal breaker there.” Her dad went to refill his coffee. “Still seems like a good guy, even if he was Army. And since we’re talking about the heavy stuff. Tell your mother about your idea, Wendy.”
Wendy thought it was too early for that. “I’m not awake.”
“What’s going on?” Her mother zeroed in on her. “Is this about the hospital?”
Taking a deep breath, Wendy massaged Biggie's ears. “I want to start my own ambulance service. It’s what I do best.” She felt like shrinking under her mom’s gaze. “It’s what I like.” She drank the last of her coffee before looking up to meet her mother’s eyes.
It was a surprise to see pride and joy on her face. Wendy didn’t feel like she’d seen that very often.
“Could you use someone to help with the books?” Her mom’s question was tentative, as if she was afraid of asking it at all.
“And someone to do the oil changes, when he’s not down at the docks with his boat?”
The sun shined through a window, her cat purred, and Wendy let out the smile in her heart. “We’ll see where the wind blows us?”
Her parents didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely.”
***
The smell of coffee woke him up, and he didn’t remember many mornings like that. He let his eyes droop, considering a little more time.
“John.” Harold rapped his knuckles on John’s head. “I know you’re awake, and your head is heavy.”
John smiled, kissing some skin. He never planned it, but he woke up every morning with his head cozied into Harold’s stomach.
“And your legs are hanging off the bed. That cannot be comfortable.”
“It is,” John grumbled, kissing his way up to Harold’s grumpy face. Harold wasn’t a morning person. It had been unexpected and hilarious. John gentled his hand across Harold’s hips. “Not too much pain?”
“No.” Harold relented and gave him a small smile. “Get off me, ya big lug.”
“Ah, sweet words of love.” John laughed and scooted away, getting his feet on the floor. “Busy day planned?”
Harold didn’t answer until he emerged from the en suite, looking morning rumpled. “Not really.” He eased into his robe and went to his favorite chair. “Tea?”
“I’m not your butler,” John said as he went to get tea and coffee. Bear padded along behind him, knowing it was breakfast time. The familiar routine made him happy in a way that was terrifying. Harold hadn’t moved an inch when John returned, and neither said a word until the first mugs were empty.
“Thank you, John.”
“Not a problem.” John considered clothes but first he needed to know. “Who are we today?”
“Suits and ties I’m afraid.” Harold smiled. He did love his suits. “Mr. Wren and Mr. Warren have business.”
“I think team three is ready.” John stood and indulged in a spine-cracking stretch. “You got a number for them?”
“By noon, I would think.” Harold touched John’s hand. “Plenty of time for sex and breakfast.”
“You, sweet talker, you.” John went to his knees and relaxed in Harold’s gentle touches. “Scritch right there, will ya?”
“Scritch is not a word.” But Harold made him feel good. “You’re like a big, lazy cat.”
“Bear would prefer we not mention cats until he gets over his most recent trauma.” John got to his feet and took Harold to bed. “Mr. Biggee wins again.”
Harold chuckled. “Poor dog.”
Bear yelped from the doorway and dived onto the bed. John laughed and gave him some rubs. “No worries, Bear. You’re still the best dog in town.”
Bear grinned, jumped off the bed, and ran in circles. John sighed. “I’ll be back.”
Harold pulled him for a kiss. “More tea, please?”
John yanked on his pants from last night and a t-shirt. “I swear I’m hiring a butler.” He could see that Harold was completely unaffected by this news. “Come on, Bear.”
***
Epilogue – One year later
***
“Bus Two, you are up. Repeat, sending Bus Two,” Wendy said into her headset. Harold had recently upgraded all their communication devices. It was a sweet setup now. “Directions being uploaded into GPS. Gunshot victim, shooter is not in custody. Repeat, not in custody. Be careful out there, people!”
She ran her hand down Mr. Biggee, King of All Things Crunchy, and tugged his tail. “They’ll be okay.”
Mr. Biggee purred. He'd settled in quickly to the life of an office cat. It helped that her ambulance service was below her apartment. Harold had insisted Wendy start her business without the burden of rent. Some modifications, and they’d gotten up and running pretty fast. Her parents liked Harold, and she let him throw money her way whenever he wanted. He’d told her once that he owed her a debt, and she didn’t understand it, but John loved him, so she let it happen. It was annoying, but she wasn’t going to argue about it any longer.
Karen had her own office in the far corner of the building, and Wendy let her pay a small amount of rent. It was stupid, but a woman had to have her pride. Mr. Biggee was in charge of the small kitchen they’d installed, of course. He paid his rent by catching the occasional fly.
Her mom wandered through the door and wiggled her phone at her. “Bus One is finishing up at the hospital. Dr. Tillman says hello, and Three blew a tire when your dad took it to the gas station.”
“Well, shit.” Wendy would handle it. “You and Dad going boating this weekend?”
“We live on a boat. So, yes, but I’ll cover Sunday if you can’t walk downstairs after your rave.” Her mom rolled her eyes, and that was a lot of sass from an employee. Wendy sighed and grinned when her mom was out of sight. First, she sent a tow truck to the gas station, and then she looked through the local tire sales until a tall, dark unicorn strolled into her office and stole the only seat. Mr. Biggee hissed at him, rightfully so.
“I left Bear in the car.”
“No dogs allowed.” Wendy turned off her headset. “Rave this weekend. Everyone is going to be there, and you need to meet Clarice. You up to it?” She loved to tease him.
“Harold is a bit of a homebody.” But John flushed. “Clarice is your girlfriend?”
“Yes, but she has a boyfriend, who’s a good guy. They like horses.” Wendy shrugged, loving them both. “I’m a free spirit, John.”
“I’m aware.” John flashed her a grin, always nice to see. “Your dad mentioned something about a lieutenant?” And now he was teasing her right back.
“Ocean unicorn, very rare, only comes ashore on a neap tide.” Wendy sighed dreamily, looking forward to touching her hat. “I’m just waiting for the wind to send her my way.”
John reached and patted Biggee on the head respectfully. “We need a favor.”
“When don’t you?” Wendy had known this wasn’t a social call. Those happened down at the coffee stand or that one bookstore Harold liked. She glared at him. “I didn’t start this business to supply you with transportation! But Mr. Biggee does need a new cat tree.”
“Fine. Send me a link.” John rolled his eyes and handed her a scrap of paper. “This corner, this time. You pick us up and drive us to that location. No questions regarding fake blood, costumes, and yelling.”
“Oh,” Wendy drawled. “You need a real favor.” She scowled at him, hoping there were no guns. “That’s gonna cost you.”
“Damn it, Wendy.”
Wendy put the paper in her pocket. She’d do it, of course. “Has Harold bought Churu yet, like I asked?”
John got to his feet and slouched his way out the door, grumbling the entire way. Wendy laughed, and yelled after him, “At least buy me a new ambulance!” knowing that would irritate him. Oh, how she loved that land-based unicorn, but there were plenty of fish in the sea, and she clicked on her headset. “Bus Three, Dad, what is your ETA, please?”
***End