It had been four years since Shawn showed up on his doorstep and since then Henry had lived his life, waiting. At first he waited for Shawn to give up this charade but it became apparent quickly that was never going to happen. Then he waited for him to get caught, not wanting, but waiting for the inevitable. When that didn't happen he finally gave into it, now he waited for his son to show up and ask for help with a case. He never wanted to admit it but he loved it, loved being back in the game, helping put the bad guys behind bars, loved having some middle ground with his kid.
Henry Spencer was never a man who like waiting, many can attest to that, but now he loved it because it always seemed when he was getting bored his son would show and ask for help. Sometimes he would even just show up to show up. So Henry sat on the porch feeling antsy and then he heard the roar of a motorcycle that announced the arrival of his son. Suppressing a smile he waited as his son dismounted the bike, pulled a six-pack from the saddle bag, and made his way up the walk.
"Waiting for me, old man?" Henry gave his son 'I'm not amused by your words look' and caught the beer Shawn tossed at him.
You have no idea kid. You have no idea.
