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Zoe watches Carter steal another spoonful of apple pie from Reese's plate and bites her cheek so as not to smile. She's fairly sure that John only ordered dessert so that the detective could steal it from him; he's only had a couple of mouthfuls of it and Joss has had the rest, despite her assertion that "She doesn't do sweets." It's cute though, although she is under no illusion that if she were to voice that out loud neither of them would ever speak to her again and she wouldn't put it past Joss to arrest her on some trumped-up charge and leave her in the cells overnight.

What was supposed to be a meeting to discuss a blackmail attempt by Elias on two of rookies in Carter's precinct had unexpectedly turned into what, to the casual observer would look like a double date.

It's extremely unnerving.

It's also kind of nice.

Typically Zoe doesn't "do lunch" - most of the people she meets up with aren't friendly and you can't walk away half-way through without drawing unwanted attention (or bullets) if things go south. This though.. This is different. Easier.

Next to her Harold is dissecting a chocolate brownie with almost mathematical precision and a single-mindedness that she'd grown accustomed to. Zoe reaches over and plucks the wafer from the blob of cream on top of it. When it comes to dessert she's with Joss; if it's on someone else's plate then the calories don't count. He doesn't complain but the quick, quirk of his mouth lets her know that he'll tease her about it later. Knowing him he'll probably deliver a box of ridiculously expensive wafers to her house just to make a point in the next couple of days.

Zoe looks out of the window of the little restaurant. It's one of those places where the food is decent but not exceptional and the neighbourhood is neither dangerous nor exclusive. Average would be the word for it. People wander along the street doing their thing; dusty construction workers, bright-eyed women in cheap clothing made prettier by carefully chosen accessories. A wino sleeps in a fort made of cardboard boxes underneath a bill-board advertising the latest superhero film. She wonders if the people she is with count as being heroes and smiles at the thought of getting Harold into a T-shirt with a superhero logo on it.

His thigh is warm against hers. When she looks at his plate she sees that he's saved the chocolate flake that was on the side of the brownie for her. It's crappy chocolate but she eats it anyway, and when she slides past him to go to the bathroom she isn't surprised when Carter follows. They don't say anything, relieve themselves and wash their hands.

"So..." In the reflection of the bathroom mirror Zoe can see Joss struggling to put into words what she's obviously thinking. "You and Finch , huh?"

Zoe twists her lipstick and carefully re- paints her lips a dusky rose. "You and John." She can see the other woman struggle between being defensive and wanting to talk. The latter wins.

"You set us up on that date at that restaurant, right."

"Assagi. If you want to go back then I don't mind you name-dropping me," Zoe says calmly. "If you have any complaints then I suggest you contact their management. By the way you're welcome."

"I'm not..." Carter's dark eyes narrow before she sighs and tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "What did you get out of it?" she says eventually. "And don't say nothing, because I know a bluff when I see one. Whatever you've got on me I'd rather know about it now."

Zoe shrugs. "I owe him, I owe you and the sexual tension between you two was starting to make my hair frizz. What's he like in bed by the way?"

The pretty detective scowls at her for a moment before giving a huff of laughter. "None of your business. What's little glasses guy like?"

Zoe fluffs her hair and lets Carter out of the bathroom first. "None of your business."

Zoe had always liked dressing up. Perhaps it had something to do with her history; if you've been brought down, had everything that defines you stripped away then conspicuous decadence is a way of re-defining yourself. She's not so unaware of her own neurosis's that she can't recognise them for what they are however. Prada, Gucci, Burberry... Designer labels mean that you don't have to label yourself – a short-hand for personality. These days she wears what she wants and dresses up deliberately because she likes it.

She likes it when she finds the perfect dress and accompanies Harold on the very rare times that they go out in public. She's always been beautiful but it's never been fun before because it's always been a means to the end of whatever gambit she's been playing.

She likes it when people very obviously look confused at the two of them holding hands together and smiles inwardly with the knowledge that she's the lucky one.

She likes it when Harold takes her clothes off afterwards, sliding his hand down her spine, putting his mouth between her legs and not letting her come until she cries his name. When he takes her it's never graceful but it's real and good and true.

Most of all she likes it when she's curled around him in the darkness and it's too late, or too early to look at the clock. He tells her stories then. Clever things, dangerous things. Sometimes she thinks that he makes up his past just to make her laugh, but that's ok too. There's a lot of herself that she's waiting for the right time to give him too. Harold's heart is always steady and true when she lays her head on his chest and sometimes it's just nice to be Zoe. Understood without having to explain.

A/N: I know I said that this was complete but re-reading it there was too much left unresolved. Definitely ending here, definitely AU as I can't imagine "Zinch" ever being a pairing in the show and playing fast and loose with POI history. Thanks very much everyone who has read and reviewed – much appreciated. The idea of a double date between Reese and Finch was inspired by HDWren from her review. Thanks lady.