A/N 1: as a writing exercise, I developed a system where I asked for a pairing and random numbers from four different variables (bookcase, book in bookcase, page, line), and then set a timer to 15 minutes and wrote.

Prompter: Random Number Generator

Ship: Mortinez

Bookcase: 3

Book: 69

Page: 88

Line: 22

"'We were talking on mobiles, and the line was disconnected by… the same people who were up here!'" Torchwood: Pack Animals, Peter Anghelides

A/N 2: so there's only been five episodes of Forever so far and IDK if I really have a total feel for the characters yet but yeah I tried.

Henry didn't have his own mobile phone – there was hardly an excuse he could give, anymore, in this modern world, but he… He wasn't fast at adopting new technology. One of the perils of being around as long as he had, he supposed.

He'd been using Abe's, while Jo was upstairs investigating. Normally he would have gone with her, but this time she'd essentially ordered him to stay behind. They didn't know who or what might lie in wait. She was trying to protect him – and she was a cop, it was her duty, but that didn't mean he wouldn't worry.

They were kindred spirits, in a way. He'd lost his Abigail and mourned for so long, was still mourning. She'd lost her husband, too, far more recently, was mourning just as much as he was. They were both dedicated to justice for the dead whose cases they worked.

And there was a part of Henry that found himself drawn to the detective. It wasn't her empirical good looks that caught him, either, he'd been honest with her about that. It was her soul, her dedication to her job and her smarts and ingenuity and everything that made her a breath of fresh air in his lonely life, ever since the moment they'd met.

And the line had dropped dead and by God, he was worried. He'd pocketed the phone and started running – he needed to make sure that she was safe. After all, she wasn't like him. She was mortal.

He found the room she'd been investigating quickly enough, found her wincing, holding the back of her head in pain, her mobile across the room, battery fallen out.

"What are you doing?" she asks, obviously trying her best to glare at him despite whatever pain she might be in. "I told you to wait downstairs."

"The line went dead. I assumed you could use backup." He wanted to smile, seeing that she was alright, but he held it in, knowing that she would disapprove. "Are they still in here?"

"No," she shook her head slowly. "I think they ran down the back stairs. Didn't even get a good enough look to figure out if it was our suspect."

If he knew Jo, she was more disappointed in herself for letting the mysterious thug get the drop on her than in him for disobeying her order, and it would be best not to poke at that in any way. Still, if she'd taken a blow to the head it would be best to get that looked at.

He held out an arm to the detective. "Come on, then. We'll need to make sure you don't have a concussion."

She looked down at his offered arm skeptically before taking it hesitantly. "Fine."