Charlie Eppes sighed tiredly on his way out of the office. He'd been here a week already. The case was grueling, and even with his formulas, it was hard.

"You little rat! Get back here!" The genius reacted on instinct and grabbed the small child running from a shop man. In his hands was a tiny, bruise apple. Charlie sighed, pulling out three dollars.

"Here. I'll take him to child services." Terrified green eyes looked up as Charlie easily picked him up.

"Pwease no! Me sowwy!" Both men frowned. Though children at that age all sounded weird, this one sounded like he was from the UK.

"It's okay. I just want to get you home."

"Uwcal and Auwnt dun wan me dough!" Charlie sighed walking away from the man, and to the nearby police station. "No! Pwease no!"

"Don't worry. We'll get you a meal, and find you a good home, okay?"

"Uwcal say dat no won will wanna fweak like me." Charlie swallowed hard, sitting the small child in a chair.

"Listen, kid, no one is ever a freak."

"Den why?"

"He was jealous of you. Do you know your name?"

"Dwudwe call me Hawwy."

"Well, Harry, this officer," he pointed to the woman who had came up, "will help us figure something out."

"But..."

"Harry, do you remember where you lived?"

"Pwivate Dwive, Suwwey."

"Just outside of London, right?" Harry nodded, yawning. "How old are you?"

"I'm thwee. Auwnt gots mad win I tell pwepole that dough."

"Well, my little genius mini-me, once we get the boring stuff done with, I'll buy you some lunch. Do you like pizza?"

"Whassdat?"

"You've never had pizza?"

"Me's got cheese and bwead. Dats it."

"Oh, Harry, you poor thing. Did you at least get it everyday?"

"No...uwcal said fweaks dun de-dee-deserf food evewyday."

"Everyone deserves food, Harry." The officer said softly. "I'll take care of the forms with the CPS worker. You take him to eat."

"Come on Harry."

The week that Charlie was in Virginia, he spent with Harry outside of work. He would have done anything to take the boy with him, but he was only twenty. Instead, he gave Harry his number, and told the child to call if anything happened, or if he needed some intelligent conversation. Right now, the CPS worker that was in charge of Harry, was allowing the boy to say goodbye to the man at the airport.

"I dun wan you to go, Chawlie!"

"Don't worry, mini-me. I'm just a phone call away."

"Otay." The man hugged him reluctant to leave.

"Be a good little boy, and remember, you're not a freak! If anyone tells you that, or treats you like your family did, you call the cops. No, you go to the station. Okay?"

"Otay. I miss you."

"I'll miss you too."