Summary:

WToWT revealed. The Gang, Henry's Safety Net of friends, has a Q&A with him. (It may appear that they are kind of ignoring Ben Larson, but he has already had his Q&A with them, so, don't fret.)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"Not here. Not here." She suspects that he'd been intimate with Iona Payne/Mollie Dawes here in the morgue some months ago, and she'd rather their intimate memories not include his time with her.

He blinks at her as his thoughts once again cohere, the unspoken meaning behind her words, clear to him. She steps back and over his scarf, now on the floor, and picks it up and hands it to him. He situates it loosely around his neck and gathers both her hands in his. "Dinner?" She nods. They leave the morgue and find themselves at Jo's with Chinese takeout that becomes instant leftovers when they finally decide to break the last rule of courtship.

vvvv

Three days later in the bullpen, Jo's desk ...

She sits and stares at the computer screen, finger poised on her mouse. All she has to do is click and send the email off to complete a report, but she's distracted by the events of the past three days. Of particular concern is what happened, or, rather, what didn't happen three days ago when she and Henry had decided to break their chastity vows with each other. Didn't happen, she tells herself again and sighs. 'Can't believe I fell asleep before we had a chance to do anything!'

Sure, they'd liplocked and passionately wrestled each other all the way from her sofa, up the stairs, and into her bedroom, as they'd left different items of clothing along the way. But almost as soon as she'd lain back across her bed with Delectable Creature Henry atop her, smothering her with kisses ... she'd fallen asleep! How lame is that? She could kick herself. And, to make matters worse, he'd been so understanding the next morning and had even prepared a delicious breakfast for the both of them. Ugh! Ever the gentleman when she'd wanted him to be just the opposite. But Henry was Henry and she couldn't change him or his mind when it was made up. She'd slept and he'd had time to rethink things. She suddenly couldn't help but laugh at herself and shake these bad thoughts out of her head.

He'd explained that he was okay with her falling asleep because it had made him realize that their original plan to not break that last rule of courtship was best. He'd even cupped her face with both of his large hands and kissed her on the forehead. The forehead. Ay, yi, yi! You'll see, he'd promised her, it will be romantic, lovely, memorable and, in the end, they would both respect each other more and their love would grow from untainted beginnings. Untainted beginnings? Had they really spoken like that back in the 1700's and 1800's? Did they really have to do this? She'd read "Madam Bovary". sighs pouts

'Get a grip, Martinez, the guy's trying to do you a favor and keep you from messing things up.' Although, what a nice mess it would be. She hadn't realized that she had the most devilish of smiles on her face and a blush to her cheeks as she recalled those breathless moments right before she'd ... fallen asleep! Grrrr!

I won't make it, she sadly predicts. I won't make it. Not for six months. Not with the likes of Henry Morgan in her frequent embrace. Not with those lips pressed against hers. Certainly not with that slim, muscular temptation of a body pressed against hers on a regular basis. Just WHO did he think he was, anyway? Who did he think SHE was? Little Miss Goody Two Shoes?

'Okay, Martinez, you got this, you can do this.' she tries to convince herself. After all, it's Henry and, well, if he believes that she's worth the wait, then ... he's definitely worth the wait, as well.

A hand waves in front of her face and she looks up into the face of its amused owner: her partner, Mike Hanson.

"Hey, you totally blanked out, there." he chuckles. He stands up and points to her mouse. "It's not against the law for you to click 'Send', you know."

Embarrassed, she slides her eyes back to the computer screen and reviews the email contents for the fourth or fifth time and finally clicks to send it off.

"See, that wasn't so hard." Mike continues his teasing. He eyes the single red rose in the vase on the corner of her desk. "The Doc's pretty serious about you, ain't he? Is that where you blinked off to? Henry Morgan Dreamland?"

"Enough!" she bats a hand at him but he steps back to avoid being hit.

"Seriously, though, Jo. You two are good for each other. I'm happy for you." he says quietly.

"Thanks, Mike." She smiles up at him, grateful for his support and encouragement.

He walks back to his desk and sits down. "You two make almost as good a couple as Karen and me. Almost." He leans back in his chair and mugs at her as she rolls her eyes at him.

vvvv

It's been nearly seven months since the dust settled and Adam was taken away by two HSA agents. The same two agents who were authorized to spring Dr. Reuben Barnes from Ryker's and indefinitely delay all charges against him. In return, Barnes will be allowed to continue his genetic research and life longevity/improvement work (for the government) at an undisclosed location. Wouldn't Lucas like to know where. His chief subject, or Patient of Interest, none other than Adam, himself. Besides using the troubled immortal to explore new avenues into his research, high on Barnes' task list will be to finally uncover personal information about him, i.e., his real name and personal history. Wouldn't Henry like to be a fly on that wall while the information is being extracted, er, obtained from him. Of course, Barnes will always be as humane as possible in his dealings with Adam (or whatever his real name is). He may or may not prove to be a viable subject for Barnes' research, so it might be necessary for his original volunteer subject, Ben Larson, to rejoin the mix. That is, if Ben can forgive him for what he feels is a betrayal. Not in developing the various serums from the fast-healing properties in his blood, but when Barnes used himself as a guinea pig (behind Ben's back) and temporarily wiped about 15 years from his own physical age. Maybe Ben can forgive him, especially since Barnes had no other willing test subject. Who knows?

vvvv

The Hanson household ...

Det. Mike Hanson and his wife, Karen, have just finished hosting a first birthday party for their newly-adopted daughter, Gretchen. Cute as a button, everyone agreed, and the apple of her new father's eye, Gretchen Hanson. Karen totally rejected her proposed nickname of "Gretch". Sounds too harsh, too much like a witch, for her tastes. She proposed "Gigi", a much sweeter and feminine one. You got the call, is all Mike said, evoking laughter from their guests. Even her two, new, older brothers managed to behave (after a fashion) during the party. There were no fights, or broken dishes or bones, and no complaints from any of the guests about them, so ... a good day in the Hanson household.

It's now evening, the boys are in their bedroom, the baby in her nursery, and a select group of stragglers relax with drinks in the privacy of the Hansons' den.

Karen enters the room and lets out a loud sigh of relief as her arms extend towards her husband, Mike. He nurses a bottle of beer with one hand and extends his free arm to welcome his wife into a tight hug against him as she perches herself on the rolled arm of his leather recliner. "They are all knocked out, can you believe it?"

Mike checks his wristwatch in disbelief. "Even Search and Destroy?" He immediately grins.

Karen playfully glares at him and slaps his knee. "I told you not to call my babies that!"

He laughs, as do the handful others present. "Sorry, honey. Hard to imagine those two quieted down so early in the evening."

"Well, I think the excitement of having a baby sister still hasn't worn off for them." she says with a smile and a faraway look in her eyes. She then looks down at Mike, her arm draped over his shoulders. "The party, everything, just plumb tuckered them out."

Henry can't help but smile as he watches them and be reminded of how proud and a bit scared that he and Abigail had been as newly-adoptive parents. Jo, his fiance, senses what his thoughts and feelings are at that moment and folds her hand into his. Her touch draws him out of his musings and he shares a smile and a hand squeeze with her.

"Hey, Doc. Not to be disrespectful or anything, but was the adoption process easier way back when?" Mike asks with one eyebrow up, the other down as the others in attendance laugh mildly but eagerly await the reply. "I mean all the hoops Karen and I had to jump through, whew!" He looks up to her for confirmation and she bobs her head up and down, a slight pout on her lips.

This is really the first time that the entire Gang of Six (plus Ben Larson, Abe's fiance, Fawn, and Lucas's girlfriend, Amy Mitchell) has gathered together in a purely relaxed, social setting, which allows them the chance to get some burning questions answered enmasse by their immortal friend.

He suddenly feels flushed, keenly aware that he is now center stage. A quick glance at his son, Abe, on the other side of the room, then a slight, forward lean. "Harder." is all he says. He then sits back with a broad grin on his face as the others burst into laughter, except Mike.

"Thanks a lot, Doc." He takes another swig of his bottled brew.

The laughter subsides and Henry takes in a deep breath. "Actually, it would have been much easier had we both been civilians. But it was harder because at the time, we were both in the military. The war was just nearing its end and, as you can imagine, adoption paperwork was at the bottom of their list of concerns." His thick Welsh accent pulls at the vowels even more when he's in his remembrance/lecture mode.

He continues as they listen attentively to him; a man who'd actually served in the 2nd World War along with some of their grandparents. "Because of certain ... extenuating circumstances, - "

"You!" Abe interjects and points at him, which evokes more laughter from the group.

"Thank you, Abraham." he nods sternly but playfully at him. "Yes. Me!" (more laughter). "Our rushed paperwork was completed in a most ... unorthodox fashion with ... highly questionable supporting documentation." He takes a quick sip of his Macallan (from his personal stock as he'd felt he'd need it tonight) and looks around the room, satisfied that his explanation is sufficient.

"Meaning, you lied!" Abe mockingly accuses and then pretends to cry. "That paperwork was a sham! You mean I was never really adopted?" He buries his face in his hand and wails, then pauses to take a sip from his bottle of beer, then plasters a sorrowful look back onto his face and wails some more. Fawn rubs his back and casts a mockingly mournful look at Henry. The rest of the group shake their fingers or their heads admonishingly at Henry and offer Abe fake words of comfort. Then they all burst into laughter again.

Once it subsides a bit, Henry shrugs and adds, "I refuse to answer on the grounds ..." He finishes the self-incrimination statement but the laughter of the others drowns it out.

"What was that like?" Lucas grins and darts his eyes between Henry and Abe. "Being raised by Henry Morgan?"

Both men lower their heads at the same time, almost in the same manner, the same pose. And it doesn't go unnoticed by the group.

"Couldn't ask for better parents." Abe answers, a quiet reverance in his voice as he locks eyes with his father. Henry purses his lips and instantly feels the sting of tears burn at the back of his eyes. Abe takes another sip of his beer and clears his throat and looks down and away from Henry. "Of course, there were a couple of times when ... " he quickly wiggles his hand and fingers in the air and makes a face.

"Oh, dear, here we go, here we go." Henry mutters under his smile and raised eyebrows. He braces himself for Abe's thousandth retelling of a 60-year-old slight.

"I think I know what this is about." Ben states with gleeful anticipation and playfully nudges Henry on the arm.

Henry huffs backward in his chair and buries his face into his hand. His soft moan grows louder as Abe retells how, at age ten, he was forced to miss the fifth game of the World Series, the highlight of which was a perfect game by Don Larsen, Series MVP! Henry drops his hand from his face and both hands grip his knees as he sits forward to offer his side of the story. Again. "As I've told you countless times before, Abraham, your mother and I worked mandatory overtime in the ER and - "

"Yeah, yeah, you guys couldn't leave so you broke your promise and broke the heart of a poor little kid." He pretend-weeps again amidst the group's uproarious laughter. They joyfully marvel at the two men's father-son interaction.

Henry, in a desperate attempt to divert attention away from himself, turns in his seat to ask Ben Larson if Don Larsen was any relation (knowing full well that he isn't). Ben holds up a hand and laughingly denies any relationship and good-naturedly warns Henry not to drag him into this. Henry then grudgingly gives his attention once again to his son.

Abe turns a serious face to Henry. "When you guys didn't come home, Mrs. Demetriou, from across the hall, came and got me and fed me dinner."

Henry frowns a bit. "Yes, the very nice Greek lady who helped us out many a time when we needed a sitter for you." He nods in fond remembrance of her.

"She fed me goat's eyes, Dad!"

Henry's eyelids flutter close and he leans back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his forehead. Jo offers her support by grabbing his arm and hugging in closer to him. The group roars with laughter again.

"Goat's eyes!" Abe says, unblinking.

"Greek ... food is very tasty and nourishing ... "

"My dinner was lookin' at me, Pops!" He grimaces at the memory, as does Henry. Everyone else, for that matter.

"Well, she should have cut the pupils off for you and ... " the group gave up a collective "Eww!" as Henry continues to try to bail water from his sinking boat. The group's mood clearly tilts towards Abe. He gives up and finishes his response to Jo. "Boil them in wine, they make a very fine meal." Her face puckers into a painful frown and he rolls his eyes. "They're meat, just meat." She shakes her head vigorously at the disgusting image.

Joanna Reece manages to control her laughter enough to ask Abe, "What was the other time?"

Abe turns his attention fully to her now, pleased to unravel his next tale of woe. "Mom and Dad left me on this farm for about a month. I was ten; it was really crappy - "

"It belonged to Abigail's parents, who loved you very much, by the way (he points a finger at Abe) and was a very nice estate in the English countryside." Henry quickly butts in this time in order to minimize the impact of Abe's woeful tale.

Abe turns to Henry now. "There was no TV."

Henry rolls his eyes. "There were other activities to occupy you." He frowns as Abe continues.

"Yeah, like milking a goat. It's a wonder I don't throw up now just at the mention of that word: goat."

Henry shifts in his seat. "Abraham, there is nothing bad about milking a goat." he says reproachfully.

"To a kid raised in the asphalt jungle of New York City, it was a horror!" He pretend-weeps again into his hand. "I was ... trau-ma-tized." His shoulders shake while he moves one finger to peek out at Henry, then places it back and boo-hoos again. Fawn grabs his arm and shakes him, a large grin on her face. He then suddenly straightens up, his face completely devoid of any tears. "Then, Grandpa took me to a cricket match. Said he knew it should remind me of my American baseball game."

Henry straightens up and dramatically announces, "Cricket is - "

"BOR-ringgg!" Abe finishes. The others howl with laughter.

Henry jumps up, his fists balled up at his sides, and levels a stern look at his son. "The day we picked you up, you were grinning from ear-to-ear, Abraham, riding a pony." He sits back down, feeling he's scored a valid point in his favor.

Abe stops and recalls that nice memory. He smiles. "Yeah. Cute little pony. My pony." The laughter dies down as the two men share the memory and a smile.

"So, as an adoptee, Abe, have you ever found out what your birth name was?" Karen asks. The room goes quiet.

"Uh ... yeah. Not my first name, but my last name was Weinraub. My parents were Julius and Reba Weinraub."

"How'd you find out?" she presses.

Abe shoots a glance at Henry, who lowers his eyes and rubs a finger along the rim of his glass. Abe's not quite sure how to answer and not quite sure if he should. Or if he wants to. He doesn't want to bring Adam's name into their conversation. He then takes in a deep breath and lets it out. "I ... had a little help." he finally replies. Then he perks up. "But it enabled me to put my family tree together. I found cousins all over the globe. Some right here in New York!" he exclaims. "And the best thing? Who do you suppose I found sitting on one of the branches of my family tree?" He gleefully points to Henry. "This guy!"

Henry smiles and softly says, "Apparently, we are blood-related cousins through my mother's Longworth line, thanks to my Uncle Dennis Longworth, who fathered a child out of wedlock shortly before he was shot and killed in a duel." Henry fondly recalls his wayward uncle. "I was about 12 years old when he died. There weren't very many mourners at his funeral, as I recall. He was a bit of a Casanova with other men's wives. And he had large gambling debts. He loved attending the comedies, as we called them. They later became known as burlesque and now, strip clubs." A smattering of titters is heard from the group. Henry frowns as he pulls the memory further out of a fog. "There were, however, as many as a dozen weeping women in black who all claimed to be his wife." The group erupts in laughter once more.

"Must have been great to find all that out, Abe." Amy says. "You know, you and Henry being related. My mother does genealogy so it must have been gratifying for you to finally construct your family tree with the right surname." she adds.

"Well, Weinraub may have been the surname I was born with, and I don't doubt that my birth parents, had they been allowed to live, would have been great parents." He looks at Henry with true conviction. "But as far as I'm concerned - Morgan - is my right surname."

The mutual pride, love, and respect between the two men envelopes the group like a warm blanket and makes them feel all cozy and fuzzy around the edges. After several moments, Lucas breaks the silence.

"Uh ... you were once in prison, Henry?" Some of the others moan and chide him for bringing that up.

Henry puts up a hand. "No, no, it's, it's fine." He gathers his thoughts as his eyes dart back and forth. He begins haltingly as he reminds them of Nora's disbelief at his claim of immortality and how she'd had him committed to a lunatic asylum. What he hadn't disclosed was that he'd assaulted one of the warden's assistants in an effort to escape being waterboarded again. The laws at that time mainly favored those with the best connections and the fattest purses, which paid for the best connections. Since he no longer had either, it was by a mere stroke of the pen that his status as patient was altered to prisoner, and he one day found himself in Warick Prison. Lucas hadn't asked outright about him hanging himself, but he knew that was the underlying question.

"My cellmate, a defrocked Catholic priest, convinced me to ... " his voice trails off and he looks at Jo, then Abe for encouragement. She hugs his arm and smiles as warmly as she can at him. He licks his lower lip and continues. "Convinced me to ... end ... my life in an effort to free myself from the confines of the prison." The room is silent as if everyone is holding their breath. They can definitely see how much of a painful memory this is for him and how difficult it is for him to share it with them. Even though it's a difficult thing for them to hear, they remain silent and allow him to finish.

"We, uh, knotted our bedsheets together to fashion a, uh ... " He inwardly recoils at the memory of that dark time. He swallows a couple of times and quickly shakes his head in an effort to rein in his emotions, then looks at Abe. "I've never told anyone. Not you. Not even your mother." The emotions rumble deeply through his now raspy voice. He realizes he can't detail his actual death. "Anyway, it worked. I reawakened in the Thames River and went on from there."

"Did you ever see Nora again?" Joanna asks, surprising herself at her own boldness.

He tenses for a moment and decides it's best to cut to the chase, as Jo and Mike are often fond of saying. No need to add another layer of gloom to this gathering. "After many, many years. She was near 80 by then. Legally we were still man and wife, as she had never put through the divorce papers. But there was nothing left of our marriage to salvage. She died two years later." He's aware of Abe's eyes on him so he nods at him and smiles. "But please," he loudly implores, "do not allow me to dominate the conversation any further."

"One ... more question, Henry." They all turn to the requestor, Ben. "Think you'll ever figure this out?" He waves his hand back and forth between the two of them, his expression darkly somber.

Henry ponders for a moment, then smiles confidently at Ben. "I'll be sure to let you know, Ben."

vvvv

Two weeks later at the morgue ...

Henry and Lucas await the arrival of Det. Jo Martinez and her new partner, a transfer from upstate, so they can share the results of an autopsy on a supposed drowning victim. The familiar sound of spiky heels connecting with the morgue's tiled floor catches their attention. Especially since there are two sets of spiky heels.

"Hello, Detective." Henry pleasantly greets Jo.

"Hey, Henry. Lucas." she replies as she walks up and stands on the other side of the autopsy table. "This is my new partner, Det. Marcia Whitehall." Jo introduces her to the two men and they all exchange greetings. "She's going to be filling in temporarily while Mike has his tonsils and his appendix taken out."

"Ouch!" Lucas grimaces but keeps his mind on his work. Normally, a hottie like Marcia Whitehall would have left him tongue tied and suddenly super clumsy, but lately he's had only one woman on his mind: Amy Mitchell. sighs cupid hearts whenever he thinks of her.

Henry notices the difference in Lucas' behaviour and concludes that the young man must truly be in love this time. Good lad, he thinks to himself.

The two femme fatale detectives obtain the needed information and leave the morgue, their spiky heels forming a duet of click, clacks on the tile floor.

Ben Larson emerges from Henry's office and watches the retreating forms of both detectives. Especially that of Det. Whitehall. "Ya know, I just might like working here as a Morgue Attendant after all. Eventually work my way up to Medical Examiner." He takes a few paces forward and then turns to face them. "I was a pre-med student at one time. Could pick it back up since I've got a lot more time on my hands than most." he jokes.

"Oh, and what, pray tell, brought this on all of a sudden, Morgue Attendant Larson?" Henry asks as he and Lucas exchange knowing looks.

"Oh, it's just that," Ben shrugs with his hands in his jean pockets, "the scenery just got a little nicer here all of a sudden." He faces Henry and Lucas and jabs his thumb over his shoulder. "Did she say her name was Whitehall?"

"Yes," Henry replies as he feigns interest in the completed autopsy report. "I believe her first name is Marcia." He side-eyes Lucas, who turns and pretends to cough.

"Marcia, Marcia, Marcia." Ben grins and swoons with his hand over his heart.

"Yeah," Lucas adds, "those spiky heels will get you every time. Click, clack, click, clack ... "

Notes:

Thanks to everyone who followed along with this story, originally a one-shot. My first fan fic. Thank you all for your kind reviews and helpful suggestions. See you in another universe as I post my other fics. Forever lives in my heart but New York City plays host to several other enjoyable characters and TV shows. Peace. Out.