Jo didn't go undercover often, but this case had required it. An elementary school teacher had been murdered, and her co-workers were all suspects. Jo had taken on the role of substitute teacher in order to find the killer.

It worked, but now she had a different problem.

To be more accurate, she had dozens of tiny problems crawling around her scalp.

"Ugh!" Jo knew it wouldn't help, but she couldn't stop herself. She put both hands up to her head and scratched vigorously. "Ugh, this is so gross!"

She'd gone through the whole lice-removal process: rubbing the lice cream through her hair, going over it with a nit comb, washing all of her clothing and bedding in hot water, bagging up everything she couldn't wash, vacuuming everywhere, spraying the furniture... and yet, she still had lice two weeks later.

She was about to go dunk her head in cold water when there was a knock on the door. She opened it to find Henry standing there. "Hey. You probably don't want to come in–"

"I'm not afraid of lice," he said. "I've doused my hair with baby oil. No lice will be able to attach to it." Startled, she glanced up; sure enough, his hair seemed to be shinier than usual.

"I won't argue with that," she replied, stepping back to let him come in. "Do you need something?"

He hesitated. "Are you still having trouble?"

"With the lice? Yes." She groaned. "No matter what I do, it keeps coming back!"

He held up a grocery sack. "If you like, I brought something with me that might help. It's an old remedy, but it usually works."

"What is it – wait, no, never mind. I don't even care, if it will help."

Henry took a jar out of the bag as he explained, "It's a cream I fixed for you. You need to rub it through your hair, leave it in for thirty minutes, wash it out, and then go over your hair with the nit comb again."

Jo sighed. More creams, more combing. "Are you sure this will work?"

"No," he admitted. "But it's worked for me in the past."

"All right then." She picked up the jar. "I can't wait until this is over," she muttered, more to herself than Henry. "I'm so tired of this crap."

"I understand." Henry took the jar from her hands. "I could help you, Detective."

The thought was tempting. Jo had spent more time on her hair in the past two weeks than she had in the past ten years. She really did not want to rub cream in it again, and comb it with excessive thoroughness again. "You don't want to do that," she demurred. "I'm sure you have better things to do with your time than get lice out of my hair."

"It's difficult to get lice out of your own hair," he retorted. "It's much easier when you can see it. And I'm a doctor, Jo. I assure you, I've done things far more disturbing than this."

She didn't want to protest anymore. She just wanted to stop being so damn itchy. "Okay."

Henry had her sit in a kitchen chair. After draping a towel around her neck, he started to rub the cream in. He described the ingredients in the cream as he did, but Jo wasn't listening. The cool cream against her scalp was pure bliss, and his hands were gentle.

"There," he said at last. "Now, we wait."

Jo got to her feet. "I may not be able to offer much in the way of couch sitting at the moment, but I don't believe the lice have infiltrated the wine. Red or white?"

"Red, please."

"That's what I was hoping you'd say." She poured them both a glass. When she was seated again, she said, "Thanks for doing this, Henry."

"Anytime, Jo. I remember how annoying lice can be."

"How was your week? It was odd, our paths not crossing much."

"It was odd," he agreed. "My week was fairly uneventful, unless you count Lucas fainting in the morgue."

Jo nearly choked on her wine. "Lucas fainted?"

He grinned. "Indeed he did. He was so enthusiastic about our latest victim that he failed to eat or drink anything for eight hours. I don't think he'll make that mistake again." Henry took a sip of wine. "How was your week?"

"Hanson's boys came to visit. That's always an adventure."

"I believe it. What did they break this time?"

They chatted about work until Henry checked his pocket watch. "It's time for the cream to be washed out," he informed her. "I assume you can do that part?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Yes, Henry, I can do that part. I'll be back in a minute."

After Jo rinsed out her hair, she almost decided to change clothes, then decided against it. She would just have to change clothes again after using the nit comb and getting lice all over her shirt. Putting on the same clothes, she went back downstairs. Henry smiled at her. "Ready?"

"Are you sure you want to do this? I can do it, really."

He shook his head. "It will be much more effective if I do it. Please, Jo, sit. I'm happy to help."

She sat; Henry came to stand behind her, brandishing the nit comb. "You're a lifesaver, Henry," she said.

He patted her shoulder. "It's no trouble, Detective."

It had been years since someone else combed Jo's hair. Henry was careful and meticulous, making sure to comb through every strand of hair in a way that wasn't painful. Jo felt herself relaxing. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling. She had been so itchy for so long that she hadn't relaxed in weeks.

"Did you ever get lice as a child?" Henry asked as he worked.

"Oh, yes," Jo replied, eyes still closed. "My mom was an expert at getting it out, but I have no idea how she did it."

"Did you call her and ask for her methods?"

Jo sighed. "We don't talk much. I don't think we've spoken since Sean's funeral."

His hands on her hair stilled for a moment. "I'm sorry, Detective."

"It's all right. These things happen."

He commenced combing. "Just a little bit more," he said. "I think it's working."

Jo opened her eyes and tried to look at her shoulders without turning her head. She could barely see, but they looked like they were covered in dandruff. "The nits are combing out!" she exclaimed.

She could feel his smile. "Yes, I believe they are."

After a few minutes, he stood back to admire his handiwork. "That should do it, Detective."

Jo ran her fingers through her hair. Her head was still itchy, but it felt better by far than it had since the undercover op. "Thank you, Henry," she said with feeling. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"We're friends, Jo." He squeezed her shoulder. "I just hope the cream works."

"I hope so too." She got to her feet and kissed Henry on the cheek. "See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow."

Inspired by the fact that I'm a single mother, and both me and my daughter have lice at the moment. Good Lord, it's driving me nuts, and I wish I had a Henry!