A/N: Hey Guys, I'm back! This time with a take on the season finale and since the show won't be back on until the Fall, this gives me plenty of time to play around with a set point in time. I've kinda been dabbling with this little "sprout" of an idea ever since Root Cause, but now I've found the perfect way to incorporate it. Hope you enjoy this little teaser. Updates may not be too frequent quite yet, but this will be a fun one. ;) -Freddie

Disclaimer: PoI and all the show's characters are not mine. The story and Sprout are mine though.

Prologue:

Reese stood there, staring. Staring angrily, challenging the machine to respond to him. Challenging the very thing that gave him purpose, but gave him just as much pain. He'd done its bidding. Finch had done its bidding. Reese had been shot. Finch had been taken. It was about damn time he had some response from the computer that saw everything, but could do nothing. The machine had eyes and ears, but they were its hands and feet.

"…You're going to help me get him back." Reese said, his eyes fierce and unrelenting. Talk to me. You talk to Harold. You trust Harold. Harold…trusts me. Talk to me—Please. Feeling somewhat ridiculous for pleading with a machine, he hadn't wholly expected his challenge to be answered. That was why it startled him so when the phone beside him rang, a caller unknown. He wondered.

He'd seen this before. Finch had merely looked at a camera and seconds later, a public phone rang. It had given him information, he knew. It had to be the Machine. Had it worked? Could it be that Finch's secret was that it was always in communication with him, any phone, any device, anywhere?

Reese approached it warily, waiting a moment before taking it up and bringing it slowly to his ear.

"Hello, John." A sly female voice said. His eyes widened and he froze in place, unnerved that he could have possibly been correct. "I've been watching you."

"Yeah, I know. You have eyes everywhere." Reese smirked. The voice laughed. That was when Reese knew he had been wrong. This was no machine.

"Um, if you say so," she said in confusion. She—not 'it'. Reese frowned. He didn't like not knowing who was on the other side of the line. It didn't sound like the psychiatrist, the little devil in disguise. It didn't sound like anyone he'd met.

"Considering you knew my name and where to find me, I'd say that's accurate." He replied, scanning the area for anyone on a phone. Of course, it seemed as if half the pedestrians were walking and talking. He knew he'd be looking for someone stationary, most likely indoors, hanging around near a window of some kind. He looked up and around at the surrounding buildings.

"Ah, yes. And without your friend, you're a blind man without his guide dog." She taunted. "Finch out-foxed and Reese out-a-job. How ironic…"

Reese could have growled, but instead, he merely smiled and with a slight nod of his head, he had to agree with her. "Not as ironic as your calling me."

"Well, I just figured this would be a good time, considering just a second ago you were talking to a camera like it could help you or something." She shot back, obviously aware of the fact that she had the upper hand. That was exactly what Mr. Reese wished to change, but where was she? It was highly likely she wasn't there at all. For all he knew, she could have been all the way across town. Heck, she could have been halfway around the world.

"What do you want?"

"I can't tell you everything over the phone." She said simply. "Someone could be listening."

"I'm listening." Reese remarked impatiently.

"Good. I recommend taking the subway home, Mr. Reese." A click and a dial tone told him she was done talking, but the conversation was far from over. He headed over to the nearest subway entrance, paid his fare, and awaited the next car that would take him back to his apartment on Baxter Street. A flood of people came off the train, but strangely enough, he was the only one who boarded that car. Odd, considering the hour.

Only a few people remained inside and they too took their leave at the next stop. For a moment, he thought he was the only one left, but just as the doors slid shut a young woman in her early twenties scrambled up to the door in a panic, leather computer bag slung over her shoulder.

"Hold it!" She shouted and Reese stood to keep the doors from closing as she leaped through, barely making it inside before they shut. She'd been running so fast that she failed to come to a stop and ended up slamming into the wall with frightful force.

Just after, the subway took off, but not before several policemen came into Reese's view, no doubt following in her wake. He watched them point and shout, but they were gone, speeding down the track before the officers could reach the car.

"Cutting it close, eh?" Reese smirked knowingly and she grinned guiltily, her face reddening.

"You've no idea." She said breathlessly, her short red hair moistened with sweat beneath a ragged black hat. "Thanks for listening." She added before taking a seat across from Reese and unwinding the headphones from her phone. Surely this was no coincidence. This was who had called him? Honestly, that was not what he'd been expecting.

"No problem." He replied amiably. "Still, I'd like to know who it was I helped evade arrest."

She looked at him from beneath the bill of her hat and Reese stared on back, bidding her to reply before he made a call to a certain detective. He wasn't having any jokes, not today, not when his friend was in the wind with a psychotic psychiatrist.

"For now, a friend…I hope."

"Depends on what this 'friend' is mixed up in."

"Well…I got caught hacking…" She said, trying to play down her crime as she kept her eyes down and fiddled with her phone. Reese eyed her, his expression prodding her to continue. "…a certain agency's security feed…from a certain mission that went down last night." Now that caught Reese's attention.

"You saw everything that happened in the hotel, didn't you?" Reese wondered and she nodded.

"Yes, and because they caught wind of me, I've been accused of causing the cell phone black out as well. Lucky for me though, I happened to be out when the police showed up outside my building this morning and my apartment…combusted." The woman scowled darkly as she looked up at him again and then back down at her phone. Reese hid his surprise with the raising of an eyebrow.

"It seems you've got a bit of a problem, but I fail to see how this involves me."

"Because, Mr. Reese, we have the same problem." She replied and John nodded slowly.

"Root," He stated and the woman dipped her head. "I should've caught onto her. She just seemed so innocent."

"She's good at that." She snorted and her tone grew serious. "We were partners once, until she tried to have me killed, and now she's framed me for this mess."

"You want to work together. You get Root and I get my partner." Reese realized and was met with a determined nod. "Well, then, if we're going to be working together, I should at least know your name."

"You can call me Sprout." She said with a slight grin, but her demeanor changed dramatically as she continued. "Mr. Reese, you should understand that your partner's rescue is only the secondary objective."

"Excuse me?" Reese questioned and she sighed. His heart sank at what she said next.

"If your partner does what Root wants, she could start a war." Sprout explained, deadly serious. "And I will do anything it takes to make sure that doesn't happen...even if it means killing Harold Finch."

Sprout