Title: Like A Vague Memory
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Zeke Barnes/Jordan Hester
Fandom: Person of Interest/A Gifted Man
Rating: PG-13
Table: Seeing Double challenge, tv_universe
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.


"Jordan Hester?" Zeke called out the name that was on the clipboard, looking over the medical facts on the man who he had to see next. Apparently, he needed a prescription filled, and couldn't go to his regular doctor for some reason. An easy enough case.

He wasn't prepared for what he saw when he looked out over the lobby of the clinic. A tall, dark-haired man got his feet and made his way across the floor, and Zeke was sure that he could feel his heart clenching in his chest, skipping a few beats.

He'd never seen anyone so gorgeous in his life.

He blinked rapidly, trying to take a deep breath. This wasn't something he should be thinking about a man who was going to be his patient. It was .... unprofessional.

But no one else had ever had this kind of effect on him before. He couldn't take his eyes from Jordan; his heart felt as though it was racing in triplicate time, triphammering in his chest so quickly that he almost felt like gasping for breath.

Something about this man tugged at his mind, like a vague memory that started somewhere in a mist and gradually became clearer. But whatever it was, it disappeared again, too ephemeral for him to hold on to, at least for the moment.

"I'm Jordan Hester," the tall man said, holding out a hand to him. Zeke took it automatically, registering that Jordan had a very firm grip.

"Good to meet you," he said, trying to sound crisp and professional --and failing utterly.

Could Jordan hear his voice shaking? Could he hear Zeke's heart pounding? Could he tell that all Zeke wanted to do was get him into an empty room, lock the door, and kiss him breathless? Could he tell that Zeke .... wanted him?

He never felt like this about anyone -- and certainly not about his patients. What was wrong with him? And why did Jordan have such an effect on him?

Whatever it was about Jordan that attracted him so much, he didn't have time to stop and think about it. And he could hardly flirt with the man here in the clinic, even in his own private office. He would have to push his desire aside, and keep this on a professional level.

Zeke ushered Jordan into one of the examination rooms, closing the door behind them. "So, from what I can see, you need a prescription," he said slowly, looking down at the form that Jordan had filled out. "Why can't you go to your usual doctor?"

Jordan sighed softly, running a hand through his dark hair before glancing at Zeke.

"There's a problem with payments," he said softly, not quite meeting Zeke's gaze. "It's a long story -- but to make it short, I've had my identity stolen. I've lost my job, and the health insurance that came with it. And I can't afford to make the payments by myself."

Zeke blinked at Jordan's words; he hadn't expected to hear something like that. He'd heard of identity thieves, of course, but he'd never known anyone who it had actually happened to. And if this man needed medicine, then he had to have it.

"Is there someone you could borrow the money from?" he asked, knowing that it was probably a stupid question. If Jordan could do that, he already would have.

Jordan shook his head, sighing softly. "No, I can't. Believe me, I've tried that route already." His tone was wry as he continued, "Apparently, having your identity stolen makes you the bad guy, not the person who did it. Suddenly, you're seen as some kind of criminal."

"Not by me." Zeke's voice was soft, the words coming out quickly.

"I understand if you can't help me." Jordan didn't look at him again; he was staring down at the hands that were now clasped in his lap. "Not a lot of people would. I was just hoping that I could get the diabetes meds I need, and make payments on them."

Zeke wasn't sure that he could get that approved, but he'd try his damnedest. And if he had to, he would pay for the meds. He could afford to do it.

Of course, he wouldn't tell Jordan that he was doing anything to help him. But he wasn't going to let this man go without the medication that he obviously needed. He didn't think that Jordan would have come here if he wasn't in dire straits.

"I don't think it'll be a problem," Zeke said, keeping his tone reassuring.

He'd beg Kate and Michael to do this. And he would help by shouldering some of the cost himself. If he was careful, then Jordan wouldn't find out -- and it would be a way to see him again, to somehow keep this man in his life.

It might be unprofessional of him, but now that he'd met Jordan, he wanted to get to know this man better, to spend some time with him. Maybe he could manage to help Jordan find out who had stolen his identity, and help him straighten things out.

If nothing else, it would be a way for him to see Jordan again, maybe get to know him as a friend. And if he was lucky, maybe something could develop from a friendship.

There was something about Jordan that seemed familiar, though Zeke couldn't quite put his finger on it. He had the feeling that he'd met this man somewhere before, and the realization of that meeting hovered around the edges of his mind like a vague memory.

But that didn't matter. Jordan was asking for help, and he would give it gladly.

"It's not going to be a problem," Zeke told Jordan with a smile, turning to his desk and picking up one of the prescription pads there. It only took him a moment to write it down; he tore the top sheet from the pad and handed it to Jordan. "We'll pick up the tab for this one."

"You will?" Jordan raised his brows, a slight frown marring his brow. "How do I pay you back? Just come here and arrange to make payments to the clinic?"

Zeke nodded, thinking fast. "Yeah, that'll work. I'm going to call the nearest drugstore and tell them that this is on us. When you've picked up the prescription, you can come back and arrange for the payments. Just ask for me. I'll be here."

Jordan nodded slowly, his dark gaze fixed on Zeke's face.

"I've got a feeling that you're doing this just to help me out," he said softly, his voice barely audible. "Thank you. I hope I can repay you one of these days."

"You'll think of something," Zeke said with a smile as he clasped Jordan's hand in a firm grip, letting him go reluctantly. "See you later," he said as Jordan left the office to head back down the hallway towards the lobby, unable to take his eyes from the other man.

He hoped that he would see Jordan back here soon -- preferably later in the day. What he wanted was a chance to ask the other man out for a cup of coffee, or even for dinner. He wanted to be alone with Jordan, away from the clinic, where they could talk and get to know each other.

Again, that vague memory tried to rise to the surface.

Wherever he might have known Jordan from, it would come back to him, Zeke told himself. And hopefully, he would have the chance to renew that acquaintance very soon.