Thanks to Carter and modern forensics, John and Finch received word later that morning that the man at the bus station was an ex con who had found a new place of employment recently. He'd been working for none other than Elias himself. The hand off to a random person would have worked, if John hadn't interfered with those first two men that night. Elias would have retrieved the SD card from Tasha without a hitch. But, John always managed to be a hitch. It's what he was good at.

In a way, Sandfeir was correct. Tasha had truly been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After a further discussion and some thought, Tasha agreed that she should perhaps make herself scarce for the time being; just in case one side or the other tried to find her and make certain that she wouldn't talk ever again.

Two days later, a cab was waiting at the corner as Tasha brought down two suitcases from her apartment. Finch watched her walk to the corner and greet the cabbie as he took her bags. The top section of her red hair was pulled back, away from her face, and held in a clip at the back of her head. The rest of it draped beautifully over her shoulders. Finch admired it for a moment before he approached her as the cabbie opened the trunk. Her eyes immediately brightened when she saw him, just as they had when John brought her back to the car that early morning, and she saw that Finch was all right.

Finch would never admit it to a soul, but knowing that her reaction was because of him somehow made him feel like a better man, a better person. He carried a box tucked under his good arm, his other arm was held in a tight sling.

"Harold," Tasha said with a smile. "How's your shoulder?"

"Much better, thank you. I have made some arrangements at your new apartment. You won't have to worry about rent for a while," he said.

"What? Harold, I can't – "

"I am in full support of your fresh start, Miss Murphy."

Tasha glared at him.

"Tasha," Finch corrected himself.

"Thank you," Tasha said, looking down at her feet.

"While I was doing my research, I noticed your school transcripts were very good, until you dropped out, that is."

"That kind of puts a damper on it, doesn't it?" Tasha joked bitterly.

"That's why I've also taken the liberty of enrolling you in a few courses in order to get your GED. Online courses to start, just to ease you back into it."

Tasha looked up and stared wide eyed at him. Finch had to hide the strange feeling of delight at her expression. "Harold, no, that's too – I can't ask you to do that for me."

"You never asked me," Harold smiled happily. "You never ask at all, Tasha. I thought it was time that you learned your true worth. Think of it as an investment in that. Being independent has its benefits, but that can only take you so far."

Tasha blinked rapidly, fighting against the moisture in her eyes. "A GED – what am I supposed to do with that?"

Harold took a step closer to her and lowered his voice, "Anything you want." He reached into his pocket and handed her a handkerchief.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much." Taking care not to injure his injury even further, Tasha hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. "Why are you so sweet, Harold? What makes a man as nice as you?"

"Well, I do read a lot," Finch said thoughtfully. "It may be just something a man learns along the way."

Tasha laughed, and brushed at her eyes for good measure. "Or your mamma just raised you right."

"That's also a possibility," Finch smiled. "Oh, I wanted you to have this," he held out the box to her. "Don't complain about it, I owe this to you anyway."

Tasha groaned as she took the box from him. She took off the bow and opened the lid. Inside was a brand new, genuine Gucci handbag, not unlike the cheap knock off John had torn apart.

Tasha laughed loudly. "Harold. This is the real thing. Mine was something I got for five bucks on thirty ninth street."

"I don't see the difference," Finch said.

Tasha hugged Harold again. "Thank you, for everything."

"You're welcome, Tasha." Finch looked up at saw John just across the street. Tasha glanced in the same direction.

She touched her fingers to her lips and waved. John replied with a little smile and a nod.

"By the way, who is Sam?" Tasha asked, keeping her eyes on John as Harold opened the cab door for her.

"Why do you ask?"

"John called me Sam by accident before. Who is it?"

Finch looked up at John then back at Tasha. "She's a friend of ours. Worked with us for a time. But she left town about a month ago."

Tasha got into the cab. "She must have been important to you guys."

Finch thought on it for a moment. "She was – is a very good friend."

"Maybe she'll come back, then." Tasha smiled and thanked Finch one more time before he closed the cab door.

He watched the cab drive away and walked across the street, meeting John at the opposite corner.

"Is she okay?" John asked.

"She will be, yes."

"Nice of you, taking care of her like that," John said.

Finch heard a lot of unspoken words in that sentence. "She deserves a second chance. I'm not so sure she even received a first one."

"That's true," John agreed as they started walking together. "It's kind of nice though, knowing what your Kryptonite is, Harold."

Finch looked up at John and studied him for a moment. "That analogy isn't very accurate, Mr. Reese," he said stiffly. "Kryptonite implies that whatever it is saps strength, makes a person weak and helpless, vulnerable."

"You don't think that's what was going on? You stood in front of a gun for her."

"On the contrary, a woman like Tasha – "

"Another redhead – "

"Would only be a source of strength for someone," Finch continued in spite of the light jab. "Besides, whether your kryptonite analogy is correct or not, I believe it is safe to say that we've already found yours, Mr. Reese."

Finch continued walking, well aware that John had stopped.

One more month later…

It was such a relief to get off of that blasted plane!

Sam tripped out of the gate and moved as fast as she could past the security checkpoints. She tried peering above the heads of everyone else, in search of a specific person. She never found them.

Instead, she found a burly looking man holding a sign with the name "Samantha" scrawled on it in big letters.

Sam approached him, her wheeled carry on dragging behind her.

"I was expecting Alina?" she said to him.

"Miss Watson is waiting in the car. Do you have any luggage?"

"Yes."

"I'll take care of it."

The large bodyguard tossed the sign into the nearest garbage can as Sam followed him through the rest of the airport, to the baggage claim.

Once they retrieved her bags, Sam continued with the bodyguard out to the pick up lanes. She stood with him, waiting in silence until a large, black limousine pulled up to the curb.

The back door opened and Sam first saw bright yellow stilettos attached to a pair of long, shapely legs. The rest of Alina emerged from the limousine and screamed happily when she saw Sam.

The women embraced as the bodyguard stored Sam's luggage in the trunk.

"It's so great to see you, honey," Alina said as the climbed into the limo.

"You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself," Sam stared, awestruck at the inside if the limousine after she sat down. "Back in New York and everything."

Alina rolled her eyes. "Part of the reason I left Colorado is because I hate it there. When I went back it reminded me. I was like, 'That's right! I hate it here.' and left as soon as I could. This is my city now. I can't stay away."

"I kind of feel the same way. Thank you for picking me up."

Alina waved Sam's thanks away with some heavily ringed fingers. "It's nothing. Where are we taking you? To your apartment?"

Sam cringed at the thought. If she went with her first instincts, she would just start scouring the city in search, but that wouldn't be smart. And the very thought terrified her for some reason.

"What's going on?" Alina asked suspiciously.

"I was kind of hoping I could crash with you for a little while." Sam raised her eyebrows.

"Sam, what is this? What are you doing?"

"I don't know," Sam said helplessly. "I don't want to go back home yet, is all. I left everything in… a lot of weirdness. And I just don't want to come back to all of it yet."

"To all of the weirdness?" Alina blinked her large, lovely eyes at her. "You've had your hair cut recently. You've been out of town for a while... Are you avoiding something?"

"Oh well done," Sam said sarcastically. "I'm avoiding everything, Alina. I'll tell you about it on the way to your place…?" Sam's voice lifted at the end of the sentence, implying the question.

"Every single detail," Alina said eagerly. "That'll be payment for staying in my guest room."

Sam smiled and thanked Alina again as the limousine pulled away from the airport and towards the city.

Thanks for reading and your reviews! Love it, love it! :)

Sam's back (obviously) in the next installment, entitled "Guardian".