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“Are you there, Finch?”
“Always, Mr Reese.”
John Reese grinned as the stoic voice of his boss crackled into life via the hidden com in his ear.
“Still at the library?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.
“Yes John, what is it you require?”
“I’ve got something for you. Stay put until I return.”
Tapping off his com before his employer could interrogate him into spoiling the surprise, John hefted the box he was carrying, attempting to centre its uneven weight. He made the journey back to the library in good time, traffic being almost non-existent at this late hour. Entering the dark lobby, John again shifted the large box, distractedly making soft hushing noises as it wiggled in his arms. He took the staircase two steps at a time, excitement hurrying his footsteps. Rounding the corner at the top, John spotted Finch sat in his usual space, fingers dancing over the keyboard in front of him, lost in his work. Reese took a moment for himself, just to drink in the sight of his hard-working partner, shaking his head slightly as Harold groaned quietly, twisting his neck in pain.
Bear broke John’s reverie as he came bounding up to the tall man, tail wagging, nose huffing at the box in his attempt to discover the contents. Finch turned towards the excited whines emanating from the large dog, confusion and curiosity marking a slight frown on his face. John disentangled himself from the bouncy animal, muttering commands in German. Bear retreated to his bed, laying his head on his paws, his ears remaining alert as John stepped further into the dim library.
Stopping in front of the short man, John carefully placed the box at Harold’s feet, then regarded him with what he hoped was a neutral expression. Finch’s eyes darted between the box and John’s face, eyebrows high on his bird-like features.
“Care to explain, Mr Reese?”
A wry smile crossed John’s face as he opened his mouth to reply. Before he could spill the words, a high-pitched whine floated up from the shivering box. In his bed, Bear sat up, ears pricked, tail wagging and body twitching excitedly. John closed his eyes briefly, waiting for the admonishment to begin from his boss. As nothing was forthcoming, he peeked a look, stifling a grin at the bemused expression on Finch’s face.
“What is in the box, John?”
Deciding it was easier to show him than try and explain, John dropped to a crouch and lifted the lid of the box, eyes watching Harold carefully for his reaction. Finch’s eyebrows rose impossibly higher, and his mouth formed a surprised O as he took in the contents of the box. Following his gaze, Reese dropped the lid and reached his hands into the cardboard container. Inside, staring up at Harold with bright eyes, and a small, pink tongue poking out of it’s mouth, was a very fuzzy Siberian Husky pup. Scooping his hands under the bundle of fluff, John lifted the puppy and deposited it on his surprised partner’s lap. Harold started, attempting to make a sound of disapproval at the assault on his expensive suit, but failing as his hands found warm fur. Instead, he automatically moved to support the small puppy’s weight, unintentionally making cooing noises at the trembling mass on his knee.
“I assume there is an explanation to this… gift” Harold fixed his operative with a steely gaze, unable to fully hide the pleasure in his voice.
“She belonged to our Number, Finch. He’s not going home anytime soon, so I couldn’t just leave her there, all alone.” John’s voice was overly soft with emotion, his attempt at subtlety failing miserably.
“I’d like to remind you, Mr Reese, there are places to take animals in these situations.” As Finch spoke, his fingers carded subconsciously through the warm fluff, while John swallowed his smile at the sight before him.
“We are not a rescue service for strays. The library was not intended to become a menagerie” Harold continued, pointedly looking at Bear as he spoke, and John chuckled softly.
“I’d hardly call two dogs a menagerie, Harold, besides its good company for you when I’m out in the field, and I feel slightly better about leaving you here alone.”
Picking up the small pup and handing her to John, Finch rose stiffly to his feet, flapped irritably at stray dog hairs on his tailored trousers, and crossed the room towards one of the towering bookcases that filled the library’s ample space, reaching purposefully for something half-hidden. He limped back to his desk, dropping with a groan into his chair, and banged the item in has hands down upon the table with rather more force than intended. John jumped, his attention focused on nuzzling the pup in his arms, who was lavishly licking his face and making Reese chuckle with delight.
“May I remind you what Bear did to my atlas of Patagonia, John, not to mention the state of a first edition Gatsby?!” he remarked, indicating the chewed mess lying on his desk. “I dread to think what would happen with a puppy around!”
“What do you think of the name Luna, Finch? She looks like a Luna, right?” John beamed, his employer’s words falling on deaf ears.
“John! Please, I must protest!”
“Oh, come on, Finch.” He smirked, finally acknowledging the distress in Harold’s voice. “She’s a puppy, we can train her. Besides, Bear would enjoy the company, and it might distract him from eating more of your books.”
Harold stopped, mouth half open, the prepared retort dying on his tongue as he considered John’s persuading script. Sensing his advantage, John pressed on, once again depositing the now contented pup back in Harold’s lap.
“I promise I will take on her training and keep her away from the books. Just look at that little face, Finch, she needs us.” With these words, John crouched in front of his partner, locking their gazes together, fingers gently rubbing soothing circles on Harold’s knee.
Finch’s eyes dropped to the small pup, who yawned and stared up at him, tail thumping lightly against his thigh. John waited, eyes fixed on his lover’s face, watching the unimpressed expression melt into one of resigned acceptance. Harold’s eyes met John’s again, and Reese couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.
“I suppose she is sort of sweet” his grin mimicking John’s own. “But if more of my books are destroyed, I will be most unhappy, Mr Reese.”
John chuckled at Finch’s attempt to be stern again, and took the proffered pup, summoning Bear to meet the new addition. Harold turned back to his desk, his attention recaptured by his work. However, from his seat on the floor, John couldn’t fail to notice the new windows popping up on-screen, with information on caring for a puppy. He grinned, watching as Luna climbed into Bear’s bed, feeling his heart swell contentedly at the sight.
This was his family, his home.