Cuddling - PoI Fanfic

Pairing/Characters: Soft Reese/Finch
Rating: Uhhhh, PG I guess? There's nothing horrid in here, just implications I guess.
Summery: Exhaustion and a stubborn additude can get you nearly everywhere. In Finch's POV finally
Word Count: 363
Author's Note: Well, here's finally a fanfic in Finch's POV... inspired by a dream I had last night, which caused me to attempt a fail doodle at the top of my psychology notebook... if you really want to see it it is on my tumblr: zappyzpace.tumblr.com I think this is rather cute, and maaaaaaybe possible for them? I tried my best to keep them in character....

“Mister Reese. What are you doing.”


Silence.


“Reese.”

A breath against my neck.

“Come now, Reese, that used to be enough.”


A quick escape of breath tickled my neck.


“Oh fine. John.”


I heard a deep and soothing chuckle, and strained against the impulse to shiver.


“Thank you Finch. Now, what was it you were saying?”


“I was asking what are you doing.” 


“Oh Finch, I thought it was obvious. I’m cuddling.”


“I know that! I was asking why are you cuddling me.”


“Well, it was rather cold in here, and it was very late so I decided to stay. Plus, you need to be cuddled.” He pressed his forehead against the nape of my neck. I could feel the smile he had on.


“I don’t need to be cuddled, Mr. Reese,” I told him irritably. He knew very well that I am not a very touchy person, and the longer this lasted the more uncomfortable it was getting. Unfortunately, he apparently decided that he wouldn’t answer or acknowledge anything I said unless I said his name. “John.”


“Yes, Finch?” His voice seemed to be sleepy, maybe he was just too tired to move. The numbers had come back to back lately, and he’d been getting less and less sleep. Still, no matter how tired he was, it was no excuse to invade my personal boundaries on the flimsy excuse of me “needing to be cuddled.” It wasn’t even cold, on the contrary, it was getting rather warm...


I sighed loudly and decided I would let this slide once. I told myself it was because he’s no good if he’s half asleep when the next number comes up. He needs his reflexes and a sharp mind, as do I, so there was no use arguing it further. Maybe some where deep inside me, I actually felt comforted by his presence. 


“You’re insufferable, John.”


A gentle yet powerful arm pulled my torso closer, his knees fitting nearly perfectly in the space of my bent ones. Now I could surely feel the soft grin against my skin. His voice purred just behind my ear, muttering a happy and content, 


“Good night to you too, Harold.”

Just a Weapon (1/?) PoI fanfic

Pairing/Characters: Reese/Finch
Rating: G (for now)
Summery: “I’m just a weapon, Finch. Weapons don’t need downtime or hobbies. Sure I have side-projects, but they all lead down to this job.”
Word Count: 883
Author's Note: Actually the first idea for a PoI fanfic I had, but was put off since I didn’t have much at the time. In Finch’s point of view.


It didn’t happen right away. The signs came before anything, but the actual action wasn’t until much later. At first, I had chalked up the signs to his training, his paranoia that was similar to my own. I was constantly on the defensive around him, unless a number came up and then a third of my guards were down because I was more focused on the work than being cautious around John. He was professional enough to not take advantage of that... often.


There was one time that I’ll not be soon forgetting. He was out observing our latest number, and it was during a time where nearly nothing was happening. I was busy researching the number, but had our line open in case something happened. After not having it open and loosing contact for an excessive amount of time, we recently decided to leave it open just in case. It had been quiet for around an hour, and apparently John got bored.


“So Finch. Where is it you sleep?”


I was shocked more by the sudden desire to start a conversation more than the question. Though the question itself was also shocking. Due to both of these things, it took me a moment to find my voice. When I did, I couldn’t keep the affronted tone out of it.


“Pardon?”


I could hear a soft chuckle from his end, before he repeated the question seriously. When I realized that this wasn’t a joke, and he was probing for clues again, I let a sharp undertone of irritation seep into my voice. This was hardly the time.


“I don’t see any reason this is relevant, Mr. Reese. The location I sleep is hardly your concern nor will it help close the gap in information.”


He stopped asking for the rest of the duration of this particular number. I had thought maybe he had either given up or forgotten about it when the next day rolled around. We seemed to have developed a routine, he would walk into the library with two coffee cups, one filled with his morning beverage, the other with my sencha green tea. I never asked him to, he just did it all on his own. I wasn’t about to complain, since complaining would only waste time that could have been more practically spent.


That morning however, as he was handing over my tea, he asked the same question. This time I could see his smirk and curious glint in his gray blue eyes. When I didn’t give him an immediate answer, he started telling me his ideas.


“I’ve been wondering about this since that morning I first brought you coffee. You were asleep at the desk, which either means you worked so hard you passed out, or you stay in the library.”
I thought about just staying silent. I promised him I wouldn’t lie to him, and I wasn’t about to, but I never said anything about giving him answers. It’s not lying if I keep quiet. Somehow, that seemed almost like cheating. I took a sip of my tea and slowly walked around him.


I was fairly positive he would follow me, so it came as no surprise when I heard the soft tap of his shoes just a pace behind me. I’ll give him credit that he has mastered keeping up with me without showing he was holding back for my pace. It’s irritating when people obviously slow down just so my sad excuse of walking can keep up.


I lead him to a hallway just barely hidden by a tall bookshelf. It wasn’t too far from where my computers and the numbers were set up. The hallway had a few doors, and I opened the first two. I stepped out of the way so he could observe both of them.


“As a precaution I’ve outfitted two suitable rooms to use as sleeping chambers should it be an emergency. To your question to if I sleep here, yes on occasion. Do I try and make a habit of it, no.”
He seemed slightly impressed for a moment, before that amused smile possessed his face again. His voice was like velvet when he replied with a low rumble. 


“Emergency huh? Like working yourself to exhaustion every night?”


I gave him a slightly irritated look before starting back to the main room. I could feel his satisfied smile burning the back of my head, though thankfully he didn’t say more. He returned with me to look at the new number, and things seemed to go back to normal. His curiosity was sated for now, but I was sure it wouldn’t be for long.

Tell Me a Secret...

"...You have a secret..."

The sudden voice startled me. I frantically looked around for whoever was there, no one was supposed to be here!

"Tell it to me..."

I saw no one, but suddenly, things became very dark, and I turned to look over my shoulder, trying to see the lamp, only to find that my shadow had taken an odd form. Fear swelled up inside me, I couldn't control my breathing. Then glowing eyes, eyes that blazed like the setting sun opened on my shadow, and I couldn't look away.

"Tell me your secret... and I can promise you."

"Promise me what?" I seemed to reply without thinking, while my mind was blank I guess my instincts went onto auto-pilot. The eyes narrowed slightly, and suddenly, my shadow was a physical form, and a long slender and lethal looking hand grabbed my chin and the eyes were closer now. Burning into my mind. While the grip was forcefully, somewhere I knew that if I moved even the slightest bit, I could get free.

"Tell me something no one else knows, and I can promise you my services."

I was getting even more and more confused. What was this thing? What was it talking about? Why was it here, and what kind of services? Appearently I spoke the last one out loud, or it could read my mind since it replied.

"I am a collector of sorts... I like knowing things no one else does. If you give me your secret, I can lend you my power."

I was slowly losing myself in those blazing eyes. And its offer of power... I could use power right now. I had no idea what it was... but it seemed to me that it was powerful enough to get done what I had wanted.

"Does that mean you'll take my secret? I won't remember it?"

It seemed to laugh, but the sound only echoed in my mind. I wondered where it was exactly, since all I could see were the eyes, and I only felt the grip on my jaw.

"No. I collect, I don't steal. You will still have your secret... as long as it stays yours and mine. You must understand something... no one, absolutely no one, must learn of the secret you give me."

"What if someone learns of my secret?" I don't know when, but somewhere in this strange conversation, I stopped wondering what it was, and my fear seemed to have vanished.

"If someone should learn of it... then you will no longer have my services. I warn you child... I don't take kindly to the secrets I've collected being told."

Meaning that it would probably kill me. That usually was the outcome of deals like this. Death. Oddly... that didn't scare me as much as it should have.

"You have a deal... You just want one secret right? Something that no one knows about me."

There was that echoing sound in my head again, the scorching eyes became bigger, and I could tell from looking that it was smiling, even if I couldn't see the smile. The grip on my chin seemed to loosen, and the hand moved to cup my cheek.

"Yes.... now tell me.... Tell me your secret... and I will grant you my services while it stays in my collection...."

Mogwai - I Know You Are, But What Am I?

This is so beautiful... I found it after watching "Person of Interest", and I'm so thankful for it.

Night's Haven - Prologue

    The beat of pounding feet and thumping bass to the music drowned out nearly every sound around the dance club. A gun shot could go off and no one would hear it, not even if it fired just outside the back door. This was rather convenient for the figure in the hooded sweatshirt, who was holding a smoking gun aimed at the only other figure in the back alleyway. The darkness that comes with being past eleven at night shrouded the figure who had just been shot. The only light that could even possibly let anyone differentiate between two shadows and the ground, was the brilliant half moon that shone above. Stars speckling the sky sparsely were hardly any help at all.

    The glint of the metal on the gun flashed briefly as it fell down to the concrete earth, causing a clang no one could hear. Now it rested beside the tipped over metal trash cans, among the scattered trash on the Graffiti marked alleyway, as its owner made a mad dash through the brick maze. After a particularly sharp turn, the music now only in the background and no longer deafening though the silence was cut by his heavy breathing, he fell to his knees at the feet of a shadowed figure. Mouth open in a scream that never quite made it past his throat, his eyes wide and reflecting the dim light of the moon, facing what seemed to be death itself looming before him.
    The run had caused his hood to fly off his head, revealing a black Mohawk ruffled from both wind and fabric. His dark grey fur could barely be made out in the gloom, but his pale wormy tail was a clear giveaway that he was a rat. Time seemed invalid in this moment, as it took him who knows how long before he could finally make the act of speech.
    “Please… don’t hurt me… I beg you! I have a son! He needs me!” his voice cracked by the end of his plea, but it seemed to fall upon deaf ears, as if their sense of hearing was still back at the night club. A lone stray cloud blotched out the little light the moon gave, which seemed to only intensify the ominous silence. Then, like a striking cobra, a hand shot out through the darkness, clutching the rat’s throat between its clawed grip.
    “You’ve threatened my club,” the figure spoke, its voice lowly threatening and unnatural, “you shot me straight in the heart. Were I mortal… you’d have committed murder. What,pray tell, does you son need of this?”
    At this dismissal of the rat’s only reasons to plead for his life, he scrambled to try to get away, to pry the vice-grip of a hand at his throat and breath in the much needed oxygen. Words attempted to bubble to the surface, but only succeeded in making him looking like a child. The figure grinned widely in the dark, their glowing eyes the only thing visible in the shadows.
    “What’s the matter rat? The gang not train you for this? For what you all do to “survive”, it’s a wonder why any child looks up to you.” The figure’s voice darkened at the last sentence, seemingly to hold more meaning in those words. But the rat couldn’t ponder on this for long, for in one swift moment, the figure’s jaws were around his sensitive throat, the hand now gripping his shoulder painfully. Were he able, he’d have screamed his lungs out, but he could not, therefore his eyes showed all the horror.
    Blood welled up to meet the figure’s sharp fangs, which they gladly licked up. His gasps were the only break between the sickening sound of his blood being devoured. People danced in the club, the music roared, the bartenders grinned, the customers shouted their fun, and no one noticed the death of a gang member in the back alley.

~~~~

AC: This is the beginning of my original story: Night's Haven staring Night the Black Cat. Truthfully this is the second time I've written this, but the first draft I felt needed improvement, so this is the improved version. I'll add the other chapters as they are written, but if you care to learn more about the characters and where they live, then I suggest visiting my tumblr created specifically for this: Night's Haven

Logos- the head, stands for the persuasion of logic and reason

Ethos- the hands, stands for the persuasion of credibility & character of speaker

Pathos- the heart, stands for the persuasion of emotion

Now to describe the reason for the way I designed them. I wanted to go with three basic colors that were good "opposites" of each other for their bases. I was sure of red for Pathos, and blue for the cool temperment of Logos, and so green for Ethos seemed to go great with nature/out-doorsy that would fit for working with your hands.

First, Logos: blue. I wanted to protray Logos as the nerd or scholarly type, so glasses and a sweatervest were a must. I tried to make it look like he cared about his appearance, and that he wore a school uniform with pride. He's very cynical and sceptical, trusting only in hard facts and numbers. I wouldn't say Logos is anti-social, but he is far less comfortable working with people than computers. He doesn't get along well with Pathos, in fact they often have arguments, or as Pathos refers to them as "creative discussions". He's a straight A student, honor roll, secretary for the Student Council, and a total know-it-all.

Second, Ethos: green. I wanted to protray him as the likable type, the jock, the Mr.Fix-it, the one everyone agrees with, mister charisma. I figure a sweatshirt and torn jeans were pretty good for that. The lanyard hanging out of his pocket is a hometown thing, at my school it's a symbol that you drove to school since the lanyard would be attached to your car keys and hanging them out just sort of became a fad. He's an easy-going guy, but gets things done when it counts. He's not an honor student, but he has good grades and is ready to help someone study if they need it. He loves sports and parties just like anyone else, but has a certain degree of responsibility in the way he knows when to put other things first. He's the kind of guy that hanging out with is easy. Is usually the one caught in the middle of Logos & Pathos's arguments, he's always the one trying to calm the two down. He's the captain of the soccar team as well as Student Council President. He has a tan since he's outdoors a lot, whether it be camping or practice, or just working on his car.

Third, Pathos: red. I wanted him to come off as the theater type, the one who's very dramatic in everything he does, as well as a social butterfly. He wears purple skinny-jeans, along with a piano seatbuckle-belt, pale red t-shirt, and maroon arm warmers. His glasses chain are a prop he always wears, and while his eyes aren't that bad, he still needs glasses. He wears contacts for proformances however. He's very empathetic, and understands others easily. He's the type of friend that everyone goes to for their troubles or advice. He listens wholeheartedly, and gives an answer based on his emotions. He's perfect for acting, knowing just what to say to trigger the best emotional responce. He's very creative and doesn't take logic into account very often. He's a jump in heart first kind of guy, which causes him to be on odds and ends with Logos over just about everything. While they don't see eye-to-eye on many things, Pathos still conciders Logos a friend, even if he thinks he's stuck up a lot of the time. He is usually the main actor in most of the school productions, best in his writing and art classes, but does poorly in his math class. He's the Vice President of the Student Council, and on the track team. Comes off as very aloof and care-free, and very overly dramatic.

Pathos's design was heavily based on Grell Sutcliff from Kuroshitsuji (owned by Yana Toboso-sama), Logos was based on my original character Tamoa (even the hair style is the same, though Tamoa's is red), and Ethos I totally just went wild, no one really influenced him.