POI fic: RIPD
TITLE: POI fic - RIPD
AUTHOR: whomii2
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: do not own
SUMMARY: Crossover AU fusion with RIPD.
John Reese never thought about what would happen after he died.
Given the life expectancy associated with his profession, that might have been short-sighted.
But he was more an in-the-moment man of action. And he didn't really expect anything after this life.
When he was “retired” by the Agency, he found out....
The flight through the fluffy clouds, the white room, both were somewhat cliché.
What he hadn't expected was a job interview.
John was musing on his situation as he sat in a blinding white room in front of a modern-style stainless steel desk holding a laptop. A man with glasses in a dark suit came in carrying several folders and took a seat, introducing himself as Harold Finch
John felt like he had been called to the principal's office.
“Where am I....? “
“Not what you were expecting of the afterlife?”
“Never really gave it much thought”
“Indeed. And if you had I suppose you envisioned a somewhat warmer climate. Believe me, I know exactly everything about you” he gestured to the files “including some of your recent more questionable endeavors. Fortunately for you, you happen to possess a certain skill set that we might find useful.”
“And if I refuse to help?”
“I think you caught a glimpse of your final resting place on your way here.”
John swallowed.
“Why me?”
“Because despite what your files might indicate, I think you are more than just a killer. I think all you ever wanted to do was protect people. I am offering you a second chance, one that will be quite literally your last chance.”
John found himself temporarily unable to meet Finch's unwavering gaze. It had been a long time since he had felt good about himself, and he was moved more than he would like to acknowledge that this man who knew so much of what he had done still had faith and saw some good in him.
After giving John a moment to collect himself, Finch continued. “Some of the dead have managed to elude their fate and are hiding out on Earth. As you might expect, those fleeing their afterlife tend to be a rather unsavory sort. Even worse, death still clings to them, poisoning and corrupting everyone and everything around them. Should too many find their way back and congregate, the effects on the living world would be unspeakable.”
“Zombie apocalypse?”
“Of a sort. And nobody wants that. So you see I am offering you a chance to literally save the world.”
“Well how can I refuse an offer like that?” Reese asked with a smile.
“You cant'. Or rather, you shouldn't” Finch replied grumpily. “But I am pleased that you have agreed. Now for some equipment and a few ground rules. This special gun and ammunition will be effective against the undead, who as you might expect are immune to normal weaponry. Fortunately, you possess the same resilience to mortal damage in your current state. These cuffs will help you contain the escapee for transport back for their final disposition. Please try not to loose these items.” Finch remonstrated, eyeing Reese doubtfully. “As for the rules, the most important is that you cannot contact anyone from your previous life. It would be useless anyway, as they would be completely unable to recognize you.”
“There's no one left for me to go back to anyway” John muttered.
“That's...good I suppose. Now for your transport back to the mortal world.”
Finch led him out of the office and down the hall to a small door. When Finch opened the door, John was surprised to see a rather dingy looking bathroom. Reese never really thought there would be toilets in the afterlife. And if there were, he supposed no one wanted to spend eternity cleaning them.
“That's OK, I'm good.”
“I know your recent past has been rather eventful, but let me remind you as it seems to have slipped your mind: You're dead. You are no longer subject to mortal frailties. In short, there are no bathroom breaks in the afterlife. Surprising as it may be, this is your way back. We needed transport sites that were both ubiquitous and unobtrusive. No one really notices someone entering or leaving a restroom, and I suppose someone thought the symbolism would be humerus.”
John supposed that unlike telephone booths, bathrooms were unlikely to become obsolete anytime in the near future.
Gesturing inside, Finch commented dryly “I trust you are familiar with the operation of the equipment...”
“You aren't coming?”
“Heavens no, I use the executive facilities” and with that Finch pushed Reese inside and closed the door.
Taking a moment to mentally prepare himself, Reese reached out and gingerly depressed the handle on the toilet. One sickeningly disorienting moment later he found himself in what appeared to be a public restroom. He exited into an abandoned library to find Finch waiting for him outside. Finch surveyed their location with some sadness.
“I suppose it is a comment on the current decline in civilization that libraries have fallen into such neglect.”
“Not a fan of modern technology?”
“On the contrary, I am quite good with computers. But there is just something about the elegance of the written word on paper that cannot be replaced. But back to the matter at hand, here is your suspected deceased, a Detective Stiles. We believe he is part of a group of the undead that are organizing in the area, so do exercise some caution in apprehending him.”
A short time later, Reese was successfully able to deliver the dead-o to a pleased Finch after only a few bumps along the way. (3 fights, 2 car chases, and 1 fall from a rather tall building)
Catching bad guys and bringing them to justice. Keeping the world safe. Reese couldn't have asked for a more perfect afterlife. (the fighting and shooting were definite perks)
AUTHOR: whomii2
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: do not own
SUMMARY: Crossover AU fusion with RIPD.
John Reese never thought about what would happen after he died.
Given the life expectancy associated with his profession, that might have been short-sighted.
But he was more an in-the-moment man of action. And he didn't really expect anything after this life.
When he was “retired” by the Agency, he found out....
The flight through the fluffy clouds, the white room, both were somewhat cliché.
What he hadn't expected was a job interview.
John was musing on his situation as he sat in a blinding white room in front of a modern-style stainless steel desk holding a laptop. A man with glasses in a dark suit came in carrying several folders and took a seat, introducing himself as Harold Finch
John felt like he had been called to the principal's office.
“Where am I....? “
“Not what you were expecting of the afterlife?”
“Never really gave it much thought”
“Indeed. And if you had I suppose you envisioned a somewhat warmer climate. Believe me, I know exactly everything about you” he gestured to the files “including some of your recent more questionable endeavors. Fortunately for you, you happen to possess a certain skill set that we might find useful.”
“And if I refuse to help?”
“I think you caught a glimpse of your final resting place on your way here.”
John swallowed.
“Why me?”
“Because despite what your files might indicate, I think you are more than just a killer. I think all you ever wanted to do was protect people. I am offering you a second chance, one that will be quite literally your last chance.”
John found himself temporarily unable to meet Finch's unwavering gaze. It had been a long time since he had felt good about himself, and he was moved more than he would like to acknowledge that this man who knew so much of what he had done still had faith and saw some good in him.
After giving John a moment to collect himself, Finch continued. “Some of the dead have managed to elude their fate and are hiding out on Earth. As you might expect, those fleeing their afterlife tend to be a rather unsavory sort. Even worse, death still clings to them, poisoning and corrupting everyone and everything around them. Should too many find their way back and congregate, the effects on the living world would be unspeakable.”
“Zombie apocalypse?”
“Of a sort. And nobody wants that. So you see I am offering you a chance to literally save the world.”
“Well how can I refuse an offer like that?” Reese asked with a smile.
“You cant'. Or rather, you shouldn't” Finch replied grumpily. “But I am pleased that you have agreed. Now for some equipment and a few ground rules. This special gun and ammunition will be effective against the undead, who as you might expect are immune to normal weaponry. Fortunately, you possess the same resilience to mortal damage in your current state. These cuffs will help you contain the escapee for transport back for their final disposition. Please try not to loose these items.” Finch remonstrated, eyeing Reese doubtfully. “As for the rules, the most important is that you cannot contact anyone from your previous life. It would be useless anyway, as they would be completely unable to recognize you.”
“There's no one left for me to go back to anyway” John muttered.
“That's...good I suppose. Now for your transport back to the mortal world.”
Finch led him out of the office and down the hall to a small door. When Finch opened the door, John was surprised to see a rather dingy looking bathroom. Reese never really thought there would be toilets in the afterlife. And if there were, he supposed no one wanted to spend eternity cleaning them.
“That's OK, I'm good.”
“I know your recent past has been rather eventful, but let me remind you as it seems to have slipped your mind: You're dead. You are no longer subject to mortal frailties. In short, there are no bathroom breaks in the afterlife. Surprising as it may be, this is your way back. We needed transport sites that were both ubiquitous and unobtrusive. No one really notices someone entering or leaving a restroom, and I suppose someone thought the symbolism would be humerus.”
John supposed that unlike telephone booths, bathrooms were unlikely to become obsolete anytime in the near future.
Gesturing inside, Finch commented dryly “I trust you are familiar with the operation of the equipment...”
“You aren't coming?”
“Heavens no, I use the executive facilities” and with that Finch pushed Reese inside and closed the door.
Taking a moment to mentally prepare himself, Reese reached out and gingerly depressed the handle on the toilet. One sickeningly disorienting moment later he found himself in what appeared to be a public restroom. He exited into an abandoned library to find Finch waiting for him outside. Finch surveyed their location with some sadness.
“I suppose it is a comment on the current decline in civilization that libraries have fallen into such neglect.”
“Not a fan of modern technology?”
“On the contrary, I am quite good with computers. But there is just something about the elegance of the written word on paper that cannot be replaced. But back to the matter at hand, here is your suspected deceased, a Detective Stiles. We believe he is part of a group of the undead that are organizing in the area, so do exercise some caution in apprehending him.”
A short time later, Reese was successfully able to deliver the dead-o to a pleased Finch after only a few bumps along the way. (3 fights, 2 car chases, and 1 fall from a rather tall building)
Catching bad guys and bringing them to justice. Keeping the world safe. Reese couldn't have asked for a more perfect afterlife. (the fighting and shooting were definite perks)