It was a peaceful day. They had solved the last number hours ago, and the new number hasn't came in yet. John was sitting on the sofa, watching random Youtube videos, his disinterest written on the face. Harold was updating the library security systems.
"You do not have to be here, Mr. Resse."
John looked from his phone and looked at Harold questionably. Harold looked at him from behind his monitors.
"I am going to call you when we get a new number. You can go and do whatever you do in your free time."
John watched him for a couple of moments, then returned to his phone, not humoring Harold with an answer. A couple of moments latter, Harold returned to his computer.
They sat like that for some time, the silence not unwelcome, familiar to both men.
Suddenly, John tensed and stood up from his slouched position, his eyes raised. Harold looked up, and but not looking worried.
"Anything wrong Mr. Resse?"
John looked up and put up his passive face, as he looked Harold in the face. He put the phone down and stood up.
"Just need some air."
He started to walk away, but he didn't make more than a couple of steps, before stopping.
"You would have taken your phone if it was nothing."
John turned around and looked at Finch's face. His jaw tightened.
"Don't you know everything?"
Harold turned back to the computer and started typing.
"I do respect your privacy."
He started to type back as John went and picked up his phone and then walked behind Harold's chair. He just handed the phone to him, but didn't answer his questioning look.
Harold took the phone and flipped it open on the last video that John had watched, hitting replay.
The video was of a young woman singing musical song. It was sung full of feeling and Harold could appreciate the well sung song. But he glanced at John, not seeing significance. But John was looking at him with such concentration, that he returned to the video.
Then the camera started showing other people, all with the tears in their eyes. The first was a bald man Harold didn't recognize. But it was the second, the woman, that he did.
She was there, sitting with everyone else, or more likely, sitting as one of the three in the front, with the audience behind. She was well dressed and she had her hair made, raised up. But it was still Root.
His eyes widened as he recognized her, and he could feel his pulse elevate. He forced himself to watch to the end of the video, but he could feel the hand on his shoulder, taking all the encouragement from it that he could.
The video ended. Harold slowly turned to John.
"If I understood correctly, she is a judge on the talent show in Slovenia. But I am more familiar with other Slavic language, so I might be wrong."
Harold turned around and starting a search on the talent, when the hand grasped his shoulder a little. Harold stopped.
"If she is there, then she can't be near here."
Harold tried to smile, but he only nodded. He than turned to John again.
"They why did you want to leave?"
John smiled, as Harold was starting to get a really bad feeling.
"Finch, you don't really want to know."
Harold turned back, but he smiles.
"You do realize, the whole TV crew is about to get spied on?"
He could hear John's laugh, before he left the library.