Since the PTB have left us on a cliffie - admittedly a minor one, it could have been so much worse - I jump in with the crowd and continue, where the series has left us.

Hope I can make it worth your while. ;)

"It's a long story", Henry said, his face one of defeat, but, as it seemed, not an entirely unwelcome one.

"Well, I've got time," she returned and butted her way into the antique shop.

Abe stood and smiled, very pleased with himself over something, while Henry, now behind her, closed the door and after a moment locked it.

"Well?" Jo prompted.

"It's complicated," Henry ventured.

Jo almost laughed. Henry's favourite phrase. "Never mind," she said. "I'm smart, I'm sure I can keep up."

"That's not what I was implying," Henry quickly reassured. "It doesn't, however, change the fact that I simply don't know how to start."

"Why don't you start with: 'In the year of our Lord 1779, in Her Majesty's city of London'," Abe suggested gleefully.

Henry answered with a accusing stare, before he corrected: "Ignoring for the moment that that would be a ridiculous start, it would be His Majesty's city. In 1779 England was ruled by King George III."

Abe rolled his eyes at that. He was obviously just as familiar with Henry's lecturing as Jo was, probably even more so. "All that notwithstanding," he went on, "I think I make an excellent point."

"Look, why don't you just start at the beginning?" Jo suggested conciliatorily, hoping to prevent the situation from escalating into a fully-fledged verbal sparring.

Henry looked between her and Abe for a moment, before he sighed. "Fine, you win."

Jo wondered who he referred to, her or Abe, but since they both seemed to want the same thing anyway, it hardly mattered.

Ten minutes later they were in the upstairs apartment, seated around the coffee-table, on which sat a tray with teapot and cups, as well as a bottle of Scotch and glasses. Jo had allowed Henry to putter about, had for the most part managed to ignore the nonsensical bickering flying back and forth between Henry and Abe. But now her patience ran out. "The beginning," she demanded. "Now."

Henry pushed it by pouring himself a cup of tea first. "The beginning, my beginning... my birth..."

Jo arched an eyebrow but otherwise kept all her reactions to herself. If he felt he needed to start that early in his life ... so be it, at least he'd finally talk.

"... and, please, bear in mind, that there were no certificates to document a child's birth before 1837 - in England that is, and Wales. Other countries, such as the United States of America..."

"Henry!" She cut him off. Here she'd thought he would talk, but instead she got yet another lesson in 'History of Inconsequential Things'.

"Right. I am sorry, Jo. I tend to get lost in details as you may have noticed."

"Not until you mentioned it just now," she said, trying to keep the sarcasm to a minimum.

"Anyway, what I was trying to say: I'd show you proof of my date of birth, but in 1779 those were still documented in church registers, and church registers only. And the register in question is still, I presume, at the church in question." He took a long drink from his cup, probably even drained it in one go.

Jo stared at him for a few seconds, expectantly, before she looked over at Abe. He looked calm and more serious than she liked. "What... Henry?" Her voice had a bit of a squeaky quality to it, which she immediately hated with great passion.

"It's true," Abe supplied. "Well, I assume that it is. I can only vouch for anything after - oh - say 1950. That's where my memory sets in reliably."

Jo leaned back in her seat, pensively. This had to be an elaborate practical joke or something. Only it didn't feel like one.

"Perhaps you want that sip of Scotch now, that you refused earlier?" Henry asked.

Jo declined again. "I want the truth."

Henry swallowed self-consciously. "This is it."

"But ... come on ... 1779, that would make you ... 236 years old."

"235 ... and a half. I was born in September."

"Of course you were." She shook her head in defeat.

TBC