Title: When There's A Will
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Zeke Barnes/Jordan Hester
Fandom: Person of Interest/A Gifted Man
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Zeke Barnes or Jordan Hester, fortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.


Zeke leaned back in his chair, studying Jordan intently over the rim of his wineglass.

He was sure that he'd never seen such an attractive man in his life. But Jordan seemed nervous, jumpy, as though he was expecting the evening to come to a premature end.

He wanted to ask the other man what was wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. Somehow, it felt as though it would be intrusive.

It was really none of his business what might be bothering Jordan, but still, he wanted to know. Maybe it was something he could help with, just as he'd helped with the medication. He didn't want Jordan to feel like he was always coming to his rescue, but .... he wanted to help, if he could.

"Jordan, what's wrong?" he asked softly, hoping that the other man wouldn't feel that he was poking his nose where it didn't belong. "It feels like there's something worrying you."

Jordan nodded slowly, taking a swallow of his wine and then sighing deeply. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice, but I keep feeling like the cops will burst in here and take me out in handcuffs."

Zeke frowned, wondering what Jordan was talking about.

"Why?" he asked, curious as to just why Jordan seemed to feel that he was being hunted. "I doubt that you did anything criminal, so why would the cops be after you?"

Jordan sighed, shaking his head and looking down into the depths of his wineglass. "It's because of the whole identity theft issue. Everybody thinks i'm this horrible person, so --"

"So you've decided that you're going to see yourself in that light, too?" Zeke asked, his voice very soft. "That's not true, Jordan. Everybody doesn't think you're a bad person. I definitely don't, or you wouldn't be here with me right now. I want to do anything I can to help you."

"I need help," Jordan told him, sounding helpless. He lifted his face to Zeke's, and Zeke was astounded at the fear and doubt he saw written on the other man's features.

"I don't even know how this happened," Jordan whispered, swallowing hard. "One day I was living my life like anybody would, and the next day everything went haywire."

"Is there any way to find the person who stole your identity? Have you been to the authorities?" Zeke was trying to think of anything he'd heard about identity theft; he knew that it would probably be a hard thing to prove, especially if whoever had done it was a pro and knew how to cover their tracks well.

Jordan shook his head, sounding even more defeated when he spoke again. "I don't think there's a way. I did go to the police, but nobody believes me."

Zeke reached across the table to take Jordan's hand in his, twining their fingers together and giving them a gentle squeeze. "Not true. I believe you."

Jordan smiled across the table at him, returning the squeeze.

"Thanks, Zeke," he said, his voice very soft. "I think that's what I need most right now. Somebody to believe me. And somebody who believes in me."

"Well, you've got him," Zeke answered, wanting to get up and pull Jordan into his arms, to give him a hug and let him know that he wasn't alone any longer.

But he couldn't do that. Not here, in a restaurant. He'd have to wait until later -- and hopefully, it would be more than a hug. He wanted to kiss this man, wanted to hold Jordan in his arms and explore that long, lean body with his hands. He wanted them to end up in bed together.

That wouldn't happen tonight; he was sure of it. But it would happen at some point, and Jordan would be worth waiting for. He could be patient.

And meanwhile, he hoped that he could help Jordan find out just who was behind this identity theft, and how to put it all to rights. Nobody deserved to deal with such a horror.

Least of all someone like Jordan. He was too nice of a guy for this.

"We'll find out who did this," he said softly, squeezing Jordan's hand again before reluctantly letting go. "I swear we will, Jordan. There's got to be a way."

"How?" Jordan asked him, sounding helpless again. "I've tried, Zeke. I don't know where to start. And I don't think we can expect any help from any authorities, either."

"They're all too willing to believe that you're the perpetrator of whatever the person who stole your identity has been doing, not the victim," Zeke said with a frown. "So we'll have to try to find out who's doing this on our own, get evidence, and then take it to the cops."

"Do you think we can find proof?" Jordan asked, sounding more hopeful now. The worried look had cleared away from his features; he looked happier and more relaxed.

"I do," Zeke told him, smiling again. "When there's a will, there's a way. And I'd say the both of us together have a pretty strong will. We'll tackle this together, Jordan. And we'll win."

Zeke raised his glass in a toast, hoping that the words he spoke were true.