Author's Note: Be aware: this is not an additional chapter but an alternative, smuttier version of the Henry/Abigail cafe scene in Chapter 4. It doesn't get quite explicit enough to move the rating up to M in my opinion, but if smut is not your thing, please skip this chapter!

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The slap came quickly. Tears of rage shone in Abigail's eyes.

"How dare you."

Henry turned to stare back at her, his eyes fiery and unflinching. She slapped him again. And again. Each time he locked back on to her, taking every hit with a stoic strength, his jaw stiffening. The fourth time, she grabbed the hair on the back of his head and forced him down, pressing her mouth roughly against his. Both made whimpering noises, some strange mixture of discomfort and relief. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and hoisted her up onto the counter, separating himself from her kiss as little as possible and hurrying back to taste her as soon as he could, now guiding her lips open with his in a heated flurry of kisses that made her mind spin.

He moved to nip and suck at her neck and she threw her head back with a rapturous exhale. She could feel herself throbbing under her layers of clothing as she grabbed at his arms and felt the muscular build that ran up across his broad shoulders, always hidden under his own vests and coats.

"Henry, the door," she choked out.

"I can't, I can't leave you," he said, a desperate tone in his voice, his face buried against her.

"Henry," she begged, but he did not let up, only sucking at her more eagerly.

"Just get the lights, no one will see."

Abigail reached a hand out for the push-button switch as Henry came back up to capture her mouth again. Her hips slid forward as she fumbled for the switch and the combination of movements meant his body was now repositioned firmly between her legs. Just as she found the button, Henry grabbed her by the backside, pulling her forward. A deep moan escaped her and the sound made him...

"Mom?"

…instantly drop his shoulders in defeat. "Everything's fine, Cody!" Abigail called up the stairs.

The dazed ecstasy of the moment removed, she remembered where she was. She reluctantly pushed Henry away, even though moments ago she'd been ready to beg for his thick fingers to push inside of her, imagining how good that thrust of pain would feel while she was soaking wet. She reddened, recalling the frantic collage of thoughts.

Henry moved back, catching his breath and clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry, that was very improper of me," he said, thinking it was what he should say. She did not respond, and he saw that she looked ashamed. "Please don't imagine I think you're some sort of loose woman, Abigail. I could never think ill of you."

The glare in response caught him by surprise. "Unlike me, you mean," she observed sharply. "Where all I do is think ill of you."

"Abigail -"

"No. You're right," she said, getting herself back to the floor. "This was completely inappropriate. All of it. I don't know what I was thinking, getting wrapped up in some idea of us that would never work back here in reality."

Henry's face opened into a puppy-dog expression. Abigail took a deep breath and steeled herself.

"I'll see you in court tomorrow, Mr. Gowen. Goodnight."

She turned away.