A/N: In which Helen Bradshaw has taken to carrying around a baggie of fruit on purpose...

Bonus for Week 11, UDC 10

Homeward

A moment of silence, and then... "Who is this Harry Burrows person in Arlington that I would have been talking to if I went there?"

Alan glanced toward the door and seemed to be holding in a chuckle. "Now that? That would have been mean. Harry was Pete's first social worker, Mike. He'd have given you an earful about the placements with Naval families and then kicked you right out of the office." Mike frowned at him. "Pete had three attempted placements before we had to try something else, and they always ended for the same reason."

"Which was?"

Alan reached out and tapped the picture frame. "The public story of what happened? That he disappeared in an F-4 in November 1965? People can be needlessly cruel when it comes to rumors and scuttlebutt, and Pete loved his father. Imagine, if you will, a kid that is a permanent guest in someone's home, and this gets brought up a few too many times... how would you react, sir? When I got Pete from Harry, I had to have a long talk about things like that, about how words can hurt, but reacting solves nothing." Alan stood and left the room again, this time coming back with a small wooden box, which he handed over. "Open it."

Still frowning, Mike did so and didn't understand the contents until he lifted them out and put the two halves together. Startled, he looked at Alan with wide eyes. "I don't-"

"That was Nora Mitchell's," Alan said, and something in his tone made Mike jump a little in his chair. "If Helen can get her here, Sheryl Tomkins can tell you how it got broken. He has a new one now that actually fits, but... well, he didn't tell Sheryl why he really wanted to see me. Just that he wanted to show me that box that he made in Woodshop. I'm showing you because it's the little things here."

Mike stared at the bracelet cuff's two pieces, with Duke's name engraved across it, for far too long before putting it back in the box and closing it. Only then did he notice the inlaid pattern of a tree. "Woodshop? They have that in Junior High?"

Alan smirked suddenly. "No. And the reason he's not is one of the only things Harry did right."

Nevermore

Frank opened the door and peered in. "Did you call for a Foster Parent reunion or something? I've got Dean Tomkins out here with the Bradshaws, and Dorinda hasn't stopped grinning at her files."

Alan stared at him, looked at Mike, then looked again Frank. "I was expecting Sheryl, but Dean will do. Bring 'em back, Frank. Miss Lowell and Mr. Finney when they get here, too. And yes, we did call for that, though Dorinda made the actual phone calls."

Frank studied Mike for a very long moment. "He the reason?"

"Yes."

"Right." Frank smiled at Mike. "You eaten since your plane landed?"

Mike froze. "How did you-"

"Your khakis are wrinkled," Frank explained. "From what looks like sitting a long time, and you've got five-o-clock shadow. So I ask carefully: who put you on a plane and where were you before that?"

Observant, because of course these people would be. "Deployed, and my wife put me on a plane right off of the carrier to come to Fort Worth. And no, I forgot to eat in the middle of this." Frank nodded and left the room, leaving Alan to chuckle suddenly. "What?"

"Of course you'd be fresh from deployment. I didn't really look at your clothing, or I'd have made the plane connection."

Wherewithal

Frank returned with three adults and one happy toddler, whom he handed off to Alan. "Miss Lowell and Mr. Finney are catching up with Dorinda. Not sure why he handed me the little guy."

Mike took a moment to study the two men and one woman, all three of which were looking at him intently. "Hello?"

The woman sighed and reached into her purse, pulling out a baggie full of cut up fruit. "You're right, Frank. He looks famished." She handed it to Mike with a smile. "Go on. Eat up."

Alan frowned at her. "Why are you carrying fruit in your purse, Helen?"

"Pre-teen with a growth spurt. Not sure if it's over, or if he actually started another one, and if Nick keeps to his cycle..." Helen shrugged. "I like to be prepared, and one of my boys has a tendency to not tell us he's hungry. It isn't the tall one."

"Well, that makes sense." Alan turned his attention to the toddler in his lap. "And how are you, Nicky?"

"Funny clothes," Nicky told him, staring at Mike.

"Now those, kiddo, are service khakis." Alan looked from Nicky to Mike and back again. "Oh, I know what Noah was trying to do. Frank, take him back to his father would you? This isn't the time but I wish it were." Frank laughed and took Nicky back, leaving the room while Mike started to munch on a piece of apple. So prepared she expected a kid not to mention he was hungry? Mike liked her already.