Disclaimer: Credit to Jonathan Nolan, Greg Plageman, and the POI writing team. Bolded sections are straight from the episodes.


QUEENSBRIDGE PARK

Chapter 1: after One Percent


"What are we doing here, Finch?"

There's a touch of impatience in John Reese's voice as he, Finch and Bear walk through Queensbridge Park. He doesn't like being left in the dark, and Finch had been deliberately vague when he suggested they take Bear out for an afternoon stroll.

"Do we have another Number?"

Finch's answer takes him by surprise. "No, a date."

In his experience, the two are not necessarily mutually exclusive.

"You got me a date?"

Finch slows to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, and Reese's eyes fall on the brunette kneeling on the grass nearby, playing with her golden retriever. He has already formulated three escape plans before Finch clarifies, "Not you. Bear. He needs a friend."

Bear and Reese share a glance before the golden retriever catches the Belgian Malinois' attention.

"Hello," Finch greets as he unclips Bear's leash. Bear barks to similar effect.

Before the brunette has a chance to reply, Bear is dashing off, his new friend in hot pursuit. She gives them a rather bewildered glance before she's pulled into the chase. Reese smiles briefly, but they're already halfway across the park.

"Good thinking, Finch," Reese commends, not a little relieved that Bear had been the victim of Finch's latest foray into matchmaking instead of himself.

Bear commandeers a tree branch and playfully entices his new friend to try and take it away. Tired of trying to keep up in her heeled boots, the young woman unclips her dog's leash as well. The two canines are so well-behaved and have taken such an immediate liking to each other that she wonders if she should follow her dog's example and try to be sociable, too.

She glances back and sees the owners have retreated to a bench at the edge of the park. She's about to join them and force herself to make polite conversation when the taller one pulls a small box out of his pocket and hands it to his companion.

Well, that answers that question, she muses with a slight smile as she pretends to turn her attention back to the dogs.

She sees the man with the glasses open the box and pull out a watch. His birthday, perhaps? Their anniversary? She realizes she's staring and tries to settle her gaze on something else. Unfortunately, there are few people hanging out in the park on this cold winter day.

The man with the glasses holds the watch up to the light briefly before he sets it on the ground and stomps on it. Her jaw drops open, and she quickly turns around before she gives herself away. Their dog comes bounding up to her and promptly drops the branch at her feet. They stare at one another for a moment before she realizes he wants to play fetch. Pulling her cold hands out of her pockets, she grasps the branch and flings it as far as she can, sending both dogs racing after it.

Her eyes drift back to the couple on the bench. The taller man doesn't seem too upset that his gift had been so thoroughly rejected. His partner appears to be holding a piece of the watch, but she's too far away to make out what it is. A ring? She frowns. This doesn't seem very much like a proposal ...

Both dogs come running back to her, the other dog once again dropping the branch at her feet. She throws it again, they chase after it, then return it to her, and they go through the whole process again. Her own dog, smaller and slower, will never emerge the victor, but that doesn't seem to dampen his enthusiasm for a rematch every time.

Her hands now numb from the cold, she sternly informs the dogs this is the last time. She puts her body behind the throw and feels an odd sense of accomplishment as she watches the branch sail farther than ever before. God, she needs to get out more.

She chances a glance at the couple on the bench, who she's been dutifully ignoring for the last 15 minutes. She looks up just in time to see the taller man stand, then kneel in front of his partner. She gasps slightly, but, no, it's not a proposal. The taller man is just scooping the parts of the broken watch back into the box. She's oddly disappointed and more than a little confused.

A bark alerts her that the dogs are racing back toward her. She turns and sees that somehow her dog has finally got the branch, which he proudly deposits into his owner's hand.

Challenged by this new development, Bear tries to encourage the Pretty Lady to throw it again. Unfortunately, despite her formidable throwing arm, Pretty Lady is not as substantial as Tall Man, and his playful leap nearly sends her to the ground.

A strong hand catches her by the elbow and keeps her upright.

"Foei, Bear! Afliggen!"

The dog immediately drops to the ground, chastised. Still somewhat off balance, she looks up and realizes one of the owners, the taller one, is holding her up.

"Are you all right?" he asks, not letting go until he's sure she's steady on her feet again. She's taken aback by the sincerity of the question and the concern in his eyes. Rather beautiful, soulful eyes ... from an objective point of view, of course.

"Yes, perfectly," she assures him. She reaches down and pats his dog's head to show she isn't angry. "He's so well trained! Was that ... German?"

"If he were really well trained, he wouldn't go around tackling poor, innocent women." The shorter man with the glasses had joined them, his slight limp accounting for his slower progress. She frowns. Actually, his partner had crossed the distance from the bench rather quickly. And silently.

"I'm Harold," the shorter man continues, an easy smile on his face as he holds out his hand for her to shake. "This is John, and you've already met Bear."

"Elena," she supplies, as she shakes hands first with Harold, then with John. She's reminded of how cold she is when his warm, gloved hand envelops her own. She feels her golden retriever tiredly prod her leg. "And this is Bailey."

There's a slight pause, but before she can comment on the weather, John says, "We should get going."

Her brow furrows slightly at his abrupt announcement. His eyes keep scanning their surroundings as if he wants to look anywhere but at her. In complete contrast, Harold continues to smile warmly at her, putting her at ease.

"Thank you for playing with Bear."

"Of course. We're always making new friends, aren't we, boy?" The golden retriever just looks up tiredly, and it's obvious they should get going, too.

John goes down on one knee to clip Bear's collar back on, and she does the same with Bailey. He murmurs a soft command — too soft for her to determine what language it's in — but Bear obviously understands and jumps to his feet, tail wagging almost frantically. She sees John surreptitiously slip the dog a treat from his pocket. When he thinks she isn't looking, he does the same with Bailey.

"It was nice meeting you," Harold says in parting, as he, John, and Bear turn toward the park's south entrance, and she and Bailey turn for the north. "Perhaps Bear and Bailey will run into one another again."

"Yes, we come here often," she says. She looks ruefully down at her hands, scratched from throwing the tree branch. "I'll bring something more human-friendly for fetch next time. See you around?"

Harold smiles noncommittally. John doesn't say anything. He just nods, turns, and starts walking away. After a goodbye bark to Bailey, Bear follows.

Somehow, she gets the feeling she'll never see them again. She stops on the pretense of adjusting Bailey's collar, but in reality watches their retreating backs through her hair. They're such an unlikely pair, yet they're completely in sync with each other, John shortening his long strides to accommodate Harold's uneven ones, John stepping slightly in front of Harold to shield him from an oncoming pack of cyclists.

She eyes them a moment longer, wondering if John will glance back at her. He doesn't.

"Such a pity," she sighs to Bailey as they begin walking again. She grins ruefully. "It's always the good-looking ones, isn't it?"


"So which is it, Finch?" Reese asks as they exit the park. He glances back and can just make out the young woman and her dog reaching the other exit. "Is she the victim or the perpetrator?"

"Must it be one or the other, Mr. Reese?"

Reese allows himself a small smile. "You're never one to pass up the opportunity to kill two, uh, birds with one stone. Bear gets a friend, we get a new Number."

"Elena Cassidy, 27, works as a receptionist at City Hall. She lives alone in her childhood home — well, with Bailey, of course. She stops by this park whenever she visits her grandmother, an Alzheimer's patient at the Coler Goldwater Hospital on Roosevelt Island, just over there." Finch gestured toward the strip of land in the East River.

"She graduated from NYU five years ago but never put her art history degree to any use. Her grandmother fell ill around the same time, and Miss Cassidy took the first job she could find to support her."

"So what's the threat, Finch?"

"So you've decided she's the victim, Mr. Reese?"

Reese glances back again, but she's out of sight. He sighs, wishing Finch would get to the point so he can begin tailing her before she gets too far away.

"There's nothing remarkable about her, except perhaps for a bit of an office romance with one of the mayor's aides," Finch continues. "I could find nothing questionable or anomalous about her whatsoever, which is exactly why she and Bailey will be good playmates for Bear whenever he's feeling low."

"No anomalies?" Reese repeated skeptically. "Isn't that suspicious?"

"It may be difficult for you to grasp, Mr. Reese, but there are a few people in the world who don't have any deep, dark secrets, who don't harbor any ill will toward anyone else. A very few," he adds, almost to himself. "Miss Cassidy appears to be one of them."

The shrill ringing of a payphone stops them in their tracks. Finch limps over and picks up the receiver, while Reese keeps an eye out for anyone who might be watching too closely. After about 10 seconds, Finch hangs up and looks at Reese.

"Wrong number?" Reese asks half-heartedly.

"No, a new one, Mr. Reese."