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in the egret's nest

Summary:

Harold thanks John for being observably badass. This drabble is set after the events of s4e3, Wingman.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“You'd have laughed,” Harold began, his voice muffled in John's chest.

“Would I?”

Harold lifted his head to expose his raised eyebrow. “As I'm sure Miss Groves would assure you, my efforts were... laughable at best. There is a reason I researched at a desk and you made,” he grimaced, “arms deals with shady characters.”

“Your efforts worked fine, Finch.” John grinned. Rolling back into his partner's warm side, Harold replied, “I simply tried to replicate your demeanor. I'm well aware I didn't precisely live up to your example.”

“Well, I usually go through with the arms deals.”

Harold tried to muster the energy to purse his lips. In the end, he couldn't manage it. The result wasn't so much disapproving as lazily unimpressed. “Though I'd prefer you didn't, I can't dispute your results. For what it's worth, I'm glad you've switched to kneecaps.”

“Cops are supposed to aim for kneecaps. Gotta keep my cover.”

“I'm reasonably certain that policemen are supposed to avoid firing their weapons where possible. Hush before I think you've abandoned your respect for the value of human life.” Harold's protests died out under the slow, gentle kisses John was pressing the backs of his hands.

John's laugh rumbled through his chest as he released Harold's palms. He leaned down to press a small kiss to Harold's temple. “You don't need me. You're plenty badass all on your own, Professor Whistler.”

At the mention of his pseudonym, a frown creased Harold's brow. Their lives were different now. They couldn't go off on a tear at the slightest hint of—of what? A life that needed saving? Professors, make a difference though they might, weren't lifesavers, at least not in the manner the pair had become accustomed to.

John brought him back to the present with gentle touches, callused hands smoothing his forehead. Harold felt his heart rate slowing, soothed by the small gestures of tenderness.

“It's been a long day. Get some rest,” John murmured, his usual whisper softening as it slipped into a lower register. “Tomorrow we can work on closing the deal.”

Notes:

Well, that was my first (and possibly last?) fanfiction ever. Really, I just wanted this scene to exist, though I apologize for the admittedly suspect characterization. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!