Prompt: Henry's shampoo runs out so he borrows Elizabeth's, but he keeps forgetting; Elizabeth notices after a week and demands he get his own because she misses the smell.

Henry shut his eyes tight. Just a little bit too tight, a sort of intense response to the water running over his face that had followed him from childhood. He reached blindly for his shampoo, but when his hand closed around the bottle and lifted it, he found that it was empty. It all came back to him then, at the most inopportune of moments; he recalled that after his last shower, he'd been intending to go downstairs and write his shampoo on their list, but he had completely forgotten. He sighed, swiping water off of his face to open his eyes and look around. His gaze landed on Elizabeth's shampoo, sitting mostly full on the shelf beside him. He reached for it with a sigh, just glad to find that there was something he could use. He squeezed a small amount of the pearlescent liquid into his palm and began to work his hands through his hair. Dodging the water, he took a deep breath, pulling in the scent of Elizabeth's lavender and strawberry shampoo. He loved that scent. A creature of habit, Elizabeth had stuck with the same brand for a long time, and the smell could transport Henry to any number of points in their history. It sent him to early mornings with her next to him, hair spread across their pillows, and slow dances with her head tucked against his shoulder and those too-quick hugs in the morning when she would breeze by him on her way out the door with a tantalizing look in her eyes and a brilliant smile that would make him feel weak. Now, he rinsed his hair and turned the water off, Elizabeth's shampoo back exactly where he had found it. He smiled as he dried his hair. He didn't mind smelling like Elizabeth at all. In fact, he kind of liked it. He smiled again to himself as he went about getting ready for the day.

Three showers later, Henry still had not remembered to put his own shampoo on the list. He also may or may not have been intentionally putting off because he liked smelling like Elizabeth. He thought that might have been strange, but he didn't care. It was nice, to be going about his day and occasionally get a stray whiff of what smelled just like Elizabeth. It was like carrying around a little bit of her essence with him all the time, and he enjoyed that. He didn't like being away from her; he often missed the years when they were both working at UVA, when all he had to do to see her was walk down the stairs and across the breezeway to her office from his own. Now, she was at least across town if not across the world. Henry would take whatever he could get if it made him feel closer to her.

Elizabeth had not noticed anything amiss. She'd been going about her life, until she noticed that her shampoo was getting low- lower than she had thought it should be based on how quickly she normally used it. She'd gotten it down to nearly a science, and the amount that remained was not adding up. Upon closer inspection of the issue, she found that not only was she suspiciously lacking in shampoo, but Henry's was conspicuously absent. It didn't take her long to put the pieces together; Henry had run out of shampoo, so he'd been using hers. She shrugged it off, figuring that he'd go back to using his own once they went shopping again. Or, once Henry did, at least.

A couple of days later, shampoo entirely forgotten, Elizabeth snuggled against her husband in their bed. She'd had a rough day, and by about halfway through it, this had been all she could think of; curling up with him, warm embrace around her, closing her eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of...lavender?

She opened her eyes again. That didn't make sense. Then, it all came rushing back to her. She recalled her shampoo and Henry's lack thereof. She pulled back from him and Henry, in a slightly dazed half-asleep manner, glanced over at her as if he was hurt by her distance.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Henry, you have to stop using my shampoo," she replied. He furrowed his eyebrows at her, and she tried not to smile. He was very cute when he was half-asleep.

"Why?" he whined. "I like it."

She shook her head.

"Well, I don't," she answered.

"Why not?"

"Because when I'm snuggling with you, I want to be able to smell you, not myself," she replied in exasperation. Henry smiled slightly at that, remembering why he had liked using her shampoo in the first place. He guessed that it went both ways. Reaching out, he pulled her back into his arms and held her close.

"I promise," he whispered in her ear, "I'll switch back to my shampoo. But only if you promise to let me come do lunch with you more often."

Elizabeth smiled as she snuggled against him.

"I think I can manage that."