Something Borrowed, Something Blue by Homeric

She had said no. Joss is absolutely sure of the fact. She had put her big girl panties on, turned down John of the husky voice, magnetic eyes and slappable smirk and refused to be a tool for whatever plan he and glasses guy were currently cooking up. No more being out of the loop, no more filing false reports and side-stepping questions from everyone from the FBI to her own son. She had definitely refused to co-operate with such reckless vigilantism without a proper explanation.

Unfortunately since it was also a fact that since she was currently hoisting what seemed to be half an acre of fluffy white tulle up so that she could get to the gun that was tucked into the blue ribboned garter belt encircling her thigh she also apparently has no willpower when it came to Reese. Two slugs slam through the door of the changing room she had taken cover in and bury themselves in the wall slightly to the left of her head. Carter drops to the ground and ducks down, wiping the sprinkle of plaster dust from her face. The ridiculously huge wedding dress she's wearing has essentially trapped her in the tiny cubicle at the back of the boutique. It had taken two people ten minutes to lace her into the meringue like monstrosity and she'd need a god-damn machete to get out of it by herself. Wriggling awkwardly onto her side she finally manages to pull an armful of material out of the way and finally find her gun with her free hand. Checking her ammo she vows to keep one bullet back for John if they actually ended getting out of this alive.

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Two Days Earlier

Harold Finch narrowed his eyes at the computer screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard. The last few days had been quiet with no new numbers coming up, but he did after all have almost forty businesses under various aliases to take care of as well as checking and managing his shares, stocks and bonds. It's not difficult work, at least not for someone of his intelligence â€“ he rather enjoys the dance within the stock markets, the patterns of trade and complexities of consumer logic. He's got too much money to ever really be at risk, but it's a lot more fun than Sudoku and the many charitable organisations in every name but his own invariably benefit from what he would call his "dabblings". For once though he's not alone on one of those rare periods where he doesn't have to track a number.

"Mr Reese." Harold can see the tall man sprawled in the half-stuffed chair in his office reflected in his computer screen. "I do hope that you are educating yourself with the fascinating history of the Tupi-Guarani tribe and not merely looking at the pictures." Turning awkwardly, he watches as John puts the ancient copy of a National Geographic Magazine back down onto the pile he had taken it from.

The younger man smiles with what Finch supposes is an attempt at innocence that would probably entice most women and terrify most men.

"There's nothing wrong with appreciating the female physique in all its different forms, Harold," John says, stretching lazily. "Remarkable people. Perhaps you could buy them a rainforest."

"Hmm." Harold gives him a sceptical look. "Much as I admire your concern for the indigenous people of the Amazon the socio and political factors would be somewhat insurmountable. If you are so bored that you are reduced to leering at women's anatomy from what is supposed to be educational literature I suggest you go home, or at least purchase a copy of Playboy magazine and pretend to buy it for the articles."

"I thought that I was keeping you company, and for the record I buy Playboy for the pictures of naked women."

Finch rolls his eyes. "If I wanted company then I would buy a dog. Go and see one of those terrible science fiction movies that you like; I'm sure that dragons and aliens are much more fun than watching me conduct my affairs. I'll let you know if another number comes up."

John yawns and lets his head rest against the back of the armchair. "I see you more as a cat person."

"And I would prefer not to see you at all when it is essentially your day off." The beep of his computer has Harold spinning back in his chair so quickly that he winces. Rubbing his stiff neck, he flexes his shoulders and enters the number that has popped up onto the screen into his many search engines.

"Got anything?" John pads over to him, resting a hand onto the desk and watching as the computer brings up an image of an attractive but not remarkable blonde woman.

"Janet Kline." Finch narrows his eyes and taps a couple of keys bringing up her driver's license. "Fourty three, lives in Queens." He clicks to an open window and then another faster than Reese can can follow. "No criminal record, owns a business by the name of "Orchidia" credit history for both the business and her private accounts are in the black but not overly so, nothing looks suspicious."

"Husband or boyfriend?" It's a perfectly sensible question, but Harold can't help but wince at how quickly John jumps to that conclusion. His partner is hard enough to control at the best of times (perhaps control is overly ambitious when it comes to describing their relationship, but at least Finch fancies that he nudges Reese towards "less is more" most of the time when it comes to violence). If Ms Kline is the victim of domestic violence then the clean up is going to be a complicated process if he lets John loose.

"One ex husband of eight years now living in Idaho, remarried with a two year old son and managing a small graphic design company. I don't see him as a threat. No other names registered as her significant others either medically or legally. She's got no links to anyone suspicious that I can see and no family aside from a grandmother living in Florida."

"So essentially we've got nothing." John frowns at the picture on the computer screen.

"We're going to have to get close. If she's the target or the perpetrator then we need more information." Finch gives his partner an appraising look. "You need to get into the Bridal shop, clone her phone and keep tabs on Ms Kline. From the website it seems "Orchidia" specialises in the ultimate wedding experience for both the bride and groom. From choosing the venue of the nuptuals to advising the bride regarding the wedding dress and organising the stag party."

John's grey eyes narrow and Harold watches him reach for his phone. It doesn't take long for the person at the other end of the line to answer, but he imagines it's as much of a shock to the woman as it is to him when Reese speaks with casual nonchalance.

"Carter will you marry me?"