"You seem quite happy", Jo commented, and took a sip of whiskey.
"I am", Henry admitted.
"Are you going to tell me why?"
When Henry didn't answer for a few seconds, Jo decided to talk before she got the usual "it's complicated" crap.
"If you don't want to talk about it, you don't need to."
"Thanks. I'd rather keep it to myself. Only for now."
"Fine. If you ever want to tell me, I'm here."
"I know." Henry smiled. He was well aware that Jo was always there when he needed her – more than she imagined. There were times when he wished he could tell her his secret, to somehow show her that he appreciated her trust in him, but he simply couldn't. The memory of what Nora had done after he told her was deeply set in his mind. Admittedly, Abigail had reacted quite differently to his confession. But Abigail was different, he thought. Then again, maybe so was Jo. However, he was reluctant to open himself up that much to her. Both of them were far too scarred for that. At least for now.
"Hey, Henry. Are you still with me?" Jo's voice brought him back to reality.
"Huh? Sure. I was just… thinking."
The bar closed a while later, and it was a beautiful night, so they walked back to Henry's home. He remembered Jo holding the baby that afternoon and smiled. It had never occurred to him that she might have a maternal side.
"You know, I never imagined you'd like children" he told her.
"Excuse me?" Jo seemed slightly offended.
"Well, like I said before, I'm used to you doing… other, less feminine things."
"That's rather sexist of you, don't you think?"
"Maybe." A thought came to him which brought a grin to his face. "I can't picture you dancing, for example."
She raised her eyebrows at him. "Are you trying to talk me into dancing? Thank you, but I'm not going to embarrass myself."
"I never said anyone else had to watch."
Jo stopped walking to look at him. "You want me to dance with you?" she asked.
Henry smiled in that cheeky way of his. "Well, I'm not a very good dancer either, so we can share the embarrassment."
"No way."
"Are you afraid?" He knew she wouldn't resist a challenge.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?"
He pretended to think. "No, I don't believe I will."
Jo sighed. "Fine. I'll play along."
"What kind of music do you have in here anyway?" Jo asked. There didn't seem to be any modern music devices here; the only thing she could see was the old record player, and she wasn't sure what kind of songs were available in longplay format.
"Well, I have some classical music. There's also Abe's jazz, but I'm not exactly fond of that."
"Hold on". She looked at him skeptically. "Are you saying we can only dance to slow, instrumental songs?"
"Is that a problem, detective?" Henry grinned.
"Yes. It's boring", Jo answered.
"Waltzing isn't boring. It's traditional, that's all."
"Waltzing? You can't be serious."
"Oh, very much, detective." He'd grabbed a record, which he put on the player. Strauss' The Blue Danube started playing. The doctor approached her, his smile never leaving his face. "Now, shall we?"
For a few seconds, she considered the possibility of just walking away, but in the end she decided she probably wouldn't get away with it that easily. So she closed the space that separated them and put her right hand on his shoulder. He then placed his left hand on her hip and took her other hand with his right.
And just like that, they were swinging from side to side to the rhythm of the music. Jo had to admit it was beautiful, and waltzing was not as difficult as some films made it seem. Indeed, the steps were rather simple and there was something deeply intimate about it. Which was why she soon felt uncomfortable; this was Henry after all, and he was just her partner. At work, like she'd hastened to clarify to the nurse that afternoon.
However, they were friends, too. They'd both shared intimate details of their lives with each other. Hell, she'd even told him about her fight with Sean, something which she'd never confessed to another living soul. They were both rather private people, but they'd opened up to each other, if only a bit. Gradually, they were getting to know the other one better. And that kind of intimacy didn't feel uncomfortable. Not with Henry, anyway.
"I can hear your thoughts from here, Jo." Henry whispered in her ear, which made Jo incredibly aware that he was quite close to her.
"I'll turn their volume down", she replied sarcastically.
For his part, Henry felt more at ease than he would've imagined. Jo was a much better dancer than he thought, and waltzing with her, his mind wandered off to when he'd done that with Abigail at their wedding. He tried to put those thoughts away; with everything that had happened in the last case, he'd been thinking about her too much, and it made him sad to consider what he'd lost. After that, he had never allowed himself to get too close to anyone; he didn't want to have to go through such a loss again.
And yet that knowledge hadn't stopped him from befriending Jo. He'd always kept Lucas at arm's length, even if it made the young man feel underappreciated, but when the detective came along and specifically asked for his help, he found he couldn't deny her. Of course, since they spent a good portion of the day together, it was inevitable that they'd learn things from each other, that he'd lower his barriers a little and let her in. A mistake on his part, no doubt; when Jo inevitably died, he'd feel empty again. But she was worth it, he decided.
When the song ended, they didn't notice it immediately, immersed in thoughts as they were. Once they did, though, they didn't quite stop; instead, they remained in their position for a few seconds, just staring at each other.
"How about another dance?" Henry suggested.
"I've got my sidearm, Henry" she cautioned him. He chuckled.
"Just one more". She hesitated briefly, then nodded. He let go of her and approached the player, and Jo felt a strange chill in her body, like it was missing the warmth of Henry. (What the hell was that about?) She wasn't the only one who was affected, however. The doctor felt his hands itching as he placed a record on the player. Itching to get back to Jo, he knew deep down, although he'd never admit that out loud.
As they held each other again, a new waltz started playing; it was the Waltz of the Flowers, which started pretty slowly, and so their movements didn't quite match the music at first, but neither of them noticed. The warmth of each other was the only thing that mattered in that perfect moment.
