Chapter 1
John Reese hates it when Finch leaves important details out of his briefing.
“It’s a sex shop.”
“We’ll need to reconnoiter inside.” Shaw sounds cheerful about that.
“The insurance information says there are security cameras,” Finch tells her. “However, the system does not seem to be online so I wasn’t able to get any details about how the store is set up beyond the blueprints.”
“That won’t have where the racks and counters are set up.” Shaw tells Finch.
“It’s a sex shop.” Reese tries again.
“You’ll want to get a look at the staff and the customers,” Harold continues as if John hadn’t said anything. “Especially the clerk, Steven MacLeod.”
“I remember the briefing.” Reese tells him. “Which somehow omitted the fact this is a sex shop.”
“Is that an issue?” Finch asks sounding genuinely puzzled.
“Only for prudes.” Shaw tells them before heading inside.
“I’m not a prude.” Reese protests. “I’m not,” He tells Harold. “I just don’t see why the machine didn’t mention it.”
“Do you think the type of merchandise might affect the type crime?” Finch asks him.
Reese sighs. “It could.”
“I’m afraid we do not have a great deal of time.” Finch tells him.
“Let’s go.” John tells him. With any luck, Harold in a sex shop ought to be good for a laugh.
The shop is a lot more open and bright than Reese was expecting. It could be any other boutique in the city if it weren’t for the manikin wearing rubber fetish gear right in front of them.
Finch does that little turn around that John finds absolutely endearing even though he knows it has more to do with Harold’s bad back then childlike enthusiasm. John watches as the man hones in on a shelf full of books bearing the sign ‘Victorian Erotica 20% off’ and abandons John for the joy of the printed page.
Shaw has gone left to the leather section which leaves John to go right past the great wall of dildos. He does his best not to gape at the selection, why would anyone want a two foot fluorescent green phallus with a head bigger than John’s fist? He reminds himself he’s here to work. ‘Just pretend to shop so you have a chance to look around without attracting attention.’ he tells himself. ‘Do not think about what you could do with some of this stuff and…”
Forcing his gaze away from the glass dildos, John forces himself to count security cameras and figure out lines of sight. Security looks pretty good. It wouldn’t stop a pro, but he’s pretty sure that a pro wouldn’t both bother shoplifting flavored lubes or blow up dolls.
Of course some of this stuff is expensive, the shop must bring in a decent amount. Still, it’s on a busy street and a glance behind the register shows they’ve got a drop safe. More likely to be held up for the deposit bag on the way to the bank rather than a gunman walking in and holding them up.
John idly leafs through a rack of French maid costumes, pretending to look for one his size, while considering the alternatives. Finch hadn’t found anything in Steven MacLeod’s life to suggest he had a personal enemy. Again, not impossible but not worth speculating without additional info. Some kind of religious fanatic maybe? Still, Finch hadn’t found anything and those sorts tended to rant about stuff for awhile before they worked up the nerve to do something.
“Don’t forget the fishnet stockings.” Shaw comments when he actually finds an outfit that would fit him. “You’ll also need ‘fuck me’ shoes.”
John hastily puts the outfit back on the rack. Shaw has a basket full of things.
“Doing your early Christmas shopping?” John asks.
“They have quality stuff.” She grins and leans closer. “I’ve got nothing.” She tells him in a serious undertone. “We’re the most suspicious people in the whole store.”
“We always are.” John agrees with a sigh. “We might be early.”
“Possibly,” Shaw shrugs. “What do you think?” She asks holding up a studded leather collar.
“Uhm..” John is not sure what to say. “Who?”
“Bear, who else?” Shaw grins at him like she knows exactly what he’d been thinking.
“Bear already has a collar.” John feels obliged to point out.
“This is top quality leather, Reese.” Shaw tells him. “Sexy deserves the best.”
“Sure.” John nods because the last thing he wants to do is argue with Shaw about dog collars in the middle of a sex shop.
He finds Harold has already tracked down their number, Steven MacLeod, over by the display of sex chairs.
“I’m not sure with my back, that it would be a viable choice.” Finch is explaining to the young man.
“Well it would depend.” Steven MacLeod is young, earnest and totally unabashed. “The great thing about the lounge is that it offers support while maintaining the ideal position.” He leads Harold over to a wavy red leather creation.
Harold studies the object thoughtfully while Mr. MacLeod lauds the features.
“Find something?” If Reese was hoping to discompose Finch, he is doomed to be disappointed.
“Do you think it would help with my back?” Harold asks him.
John briefly contemplates Harold draped over the lounge. He clears his throat carefully. “It might.” He manages to get out without squeaking.
“Do you have something that might work in bed?” Harold is asking the clerk.
“There are wedge pillows.” Steven leads Harold and John over to another display. “There are several different models and we can always special order something if we don’t have exactly what you need.”
Harold and Steven discuss firmness and angle of incline while John tries desperately not to imagine Harold draped over any of the display pieces.