"This is Fredrickson ... No, no progress yet on that because she hasn't let me into her house yet ... Yeah, I know it's been two months. Just gotta take another route to get inside."

vvvv

Jo and FBI Agent Fredrickson, having had, for the most part, an enjoyable evening of dinner out and a movie, pulled up to her house in his tricked-out SUV only to see several police cars parked askew outside. Her hand flew to her mouth and she unbuckled her seatbelt, exiting the vehicle just as it rolled to a stop. Ignoring Fredrickson's call for her to wait for him, she ran hurriedly up to her house. She fought against panicking, telling herself that there really wasn't anything of great value in the house but what she did own was what both she and Sean had treasured during their short marriage. Fredrickson jogged up and fell in step with her, telling her that everything was going to be okay; that he was there for her. Barely listening to him, she pulled out her badge and raised it to flash to a uni standing in the open doorway at the top of the stairs but Fredrickson beat her to it.

"Agent Mark Fredrickson, FBI," he said authoritatively, flashing his badge. The uni, Officer Pete Daniels, seemed confused, looking him up and down quickly, then turned to Jo, who rolled her eyes and held up her own badge.

"Detective Jo Martinez, NYPD." She clipped her badge onto the front waistband of her slacks and asked, "What's going on here at my home?"

"Yes, Detective, thought I recognized you," Daniels, said, tipping his cap to her. He gave another quick look at Fredrickson then back at her. "Got a report of a possible break-in. You'll have to check to see if anything's been disturbed or missing. Oh! we got the guys."

Jo's head snapped to her left when Daniels motioned to one of the squad cars. As she descended the stairs and drew closer to the car, she bit her lip to prevent her jaw from dropping to the ground when she saw the two men cuffed and seated in the back: Henry and Lucas! A range of emotions from astonishment to confusion to anger, played over her features as her eyes bored into Henry's. Both men smiled weakly, raising their cuffed hands to offer a shaky wave to her. They both lowered their eyes in defeat as her hardened features told them the genial approach was not working.

"According to their ID's, they both work in the ME's office but they're not talkin'." Daniels held up a small notepad and began to read their names but Jo interrupted.

"Dr. Henry Morgan, ME. His trusted sidekick, Lucas Wahl," Jo said dryly.

"Yeah, I figured you knew them. The doctor's name, at least, is familiar," Daniels said fighting back a grin. "He's racked up quite a few public nudity arrests. We'll run 'em both downtown and - "

"Release them," Jo said with a big sigh. "They weren't trying to break in. Dr. Morgan just, uh, probably lost the key that I gave to him and they got a little ... creative."

"Uh, they were caught red-handed trying to pick the lock with a paperclip, if you can believe it."

"I agree, Jo, you shouldn't let them get away with this," Fredrickson chimed in, glaring at Henry.

"I'm NOT pressing charges," Jo told them both forcefully. "It's all a misunderstanding. Uncuff them, please." Daniels reluctantly obeyed her, all the while struggling to hide a smile.

"There you go, Dr. Morgan, Mr. Wahl," Daniels said. He then tipped his cap to them all and left to relay the message to the others to wrap things up and head out.

Henry and Lucas rubbed their wrists, watching the police presence dissipate and did their best to avoid Jo's eyes boring into them. Lucas finally heaved a big sigh, clapping his hands and backing away.

"Guess I'll be leaving now, heh, heh. Thank you very much, Det. Martinez, and, and, bye, everyone." He quickly turned and ran down the street to the nearest subway entrance.

Fredrickson glared after him then leveled his angry stare at his perceived nemesis, Henry. "Inauspicious way to end our date, don't you think, Jo?" He attempted to put his arm around her shoulders but she stepped forward, away from him and closer to Henry.

"Yes, it is but it's best we call it a night, Mark," Jo replied, never taking her eyes off of Henry. Remembering her manners, she turned to him and smiled. "Thank you for a nice evening, Mark. Good night."

Taking that as his cue to exit, he clamped his lips together and turned and huffed off back to his car. Henry, much chagrined, lowered his eyes, avoiding Jo's intense gaze. He clasped his hands in front of him and managed to work up a feeble smile.

"Jo, there is a perfectly good explanation for all of this, I can assure you."

"Shut. Up. Henry."

His large eyes widened even larger as he nodded, wiping the smile off of his face. Thankful that she hadn't slapped him.

"Inside," she hoarsely whispered, almost hissing. He followed her up the stairs and into her house. Seeing that it was his first time ever being inside her home, he was naturally curious but had to curb it for now and remained close by her side as she turned on the hall light and led him into the livingroom. She removed her coat, shrugging off his gentlemanly help, and tossed it on the arm of the chair near the fireplace. "Henry, what were you and that ... brainless assistant of yours doing trying to break into my home?!" she demanded.

"We were tracking down a lead, Jo. Well ... exploring a hypothesis, really. But I didn't feel it was necessary to bother you while you were on your date." He paused, sighing. "I had watched you pick a lock with a hairpin once and felt that I could accomplish the same using a paperclip," he offered as a feeble excuse.

Jo closed and opened her eyes, shaking her head vigorously. "What? What lead? Hypothesis about what?! Do you realize that some trigger-happy neighbor or cop could have shot you two? Maybe killing you? And they probably would have been perfectly justified since you were committing a crime." Her head was tilted to the side, her hands on her hips.

'Killing me? he asked himself. Lucas, perhaps, but him ... ?'

"I can fully understand your consternation, Jo, but my hypothesis has to do with, with, with the death of your husband, Sean Moore," he nervously stammered out. He watched her reaction, similar to her reaction to the cryptic text message that Agent Trent had received shortly before her death a couple of months ago. His heart broke for her as he could only imagine the myriad of thoughts and emotions besieging her right now and evident on her face and in her demeanor. He reached for her as she appeared to begin to sway but she quickly walked away and dropped into the armchair near the fireplace.

"Jo, this is exactly why I did things the way I did. Never would I want to cause you any unnecessary distress. If Lucas and I had been able to find whatever damaging evidence Sean had hidden here in your home, then - "

"We would not have been able to use it," she finished for him. Jo raised an eyebrow and stuck her neck out at him. "Evidence uncovered illegally, remember?"

Henry closed his eyes and hung his head, recalling how the case against the copycat serial killer, Scott Bentley, had almost been blown because Abe had stolen a sales ledger from his fellow antique dealer, The Frenchman, instead of it having been legally obtained by warrant.

"Yes, Jo. Sorry." He sighed and looked up at her from where he now knelt in front of her. "I let my enthusiasm run away from me." He scooted back when she sat forward, her brow slightly furrowed.

"Damaging evidence. You said damaging evidence that Sean hid somewhere in our home." She stood up and Henry did likewise. "Concerning what?" she asked him.

"Something that he uncovered and most likely got him killed," he reluctantly concluded.

Jo, still deep in thought, looked around the room and put a finger to her lips as if considering something. "We decorated this place together. Planned and executed every project together." Henry nodded but frowned, not quite following her.

"Except for one project," she whispered. She quickly made her way to the stairs and ascended them with Henry close behind her. His palms became sweaty when he realized that he was following Jo into the bedroom. His first visit to her home. What was he thinking? He aggressively shoved any untoward thoughts aside, reminding himself that this was strictly business. Strictly related to the now obvious cold case of her husband's murder.

"Jo, ah, where are we going?" His voice cracked a little involuntarily and he swallowed.

"Our bedroom," she replied, switching on the light. "I mean ... mine." She walked into the room and placed her hands on her hips, staring at the wine-colored wallpaper on the wall at the head of the bed. "Sean insisted on papering this wall all by himself, though." She turned to Henry and smirked at his frown of disapproval.

"I know," she said. "Poor Sean, he didn't have the best decorating sense. But at the time I didn't really care because it was the last project and I was studying for my Detective's shield." Henry stood awkwardly next to her as her eyes roamed over the wall.

"Here. Help me pull the bed away from the wall." The two of them pulled it back about a foot from the wall. Jo retrieved a small flashlight from the nightstand drawer and lay face down on the bed. She shoved the pillows onto the floor and peered over the side as she shined the flashlight down along the baseboard. Henry gingerly mirrored her pose on the bed and followed the light as she shined it. He saw a slight bulge just above the baseboard on what he surmised had been Sean's side of the bed. If he were to hide something in his own bedroom, he imagined, it would be closer to his side so he could keep an eye on it better.

"There, Jo," he said, pointing to the bulge in the wallpaper.

"What the - ?" Jo asked. "Here," she said, shoving the flashlight into Henry's hand. She opened the nightstand drawer again and pulled a letter opener out of it. She then exchanged it with Henry for the flashlight, nodding at him to proceed.

Henry carefully sliced into the wallpaper around the bulge and peeled it back to retrieve a small plastic Ziploc bag with a disc in it. They both straightened up to sitting positions as Henry held the bag up and they both marveled at it, wondering what the information was on it that most likely was the reason for the deaths of two people.

vvvv

Fredrickson sat in his SUV, gripping the wheel and fuming over the fact that he had squired Jo around town that night but Henry had wound up being the man invited into her home! Plus, he was making no progress getting inside himself so he could search the place. What bothered him most, though, was the fact that Henry and his assistant were caught red-handed attempting to break in to her place. Why? Was the good doctor on to something? Something that could jeopardize not only his career with the Bureau, but also that of several others? Moore had been a plant. But Trent had been about to go whistleblower on him and his crew. If Morgan had been able to find anything that would connect him to Moore's and Trent's murders - yes, he could say it now for he'd crossed that line years ago - he simply couldn't have that. He felt a twinge of guilt that Jo might get caught in the crossfire because he genuinely had feelings for her. But that couldn't be helped now. He was determined to cover his tracks by any means necessary.

vvvv

Jo and Henry sat at her dining room table, her laptop in front of her. She logged in and removed the disc from the bag and inserted it into the slot. They were both disappointed when an error message popped up on the screen indicating there was a problem reading the disc. Jo swore under her breath and removed the disc.

"What ... what does that mean, Jo?" Henry asked anxiously.

"It means it's damaged or maybe just dusty or dirty," she muttered in reply while she rubbed it vigorously against her pants in an effort to clean it. Then she popped it back into the slot and smiled when it appeared the computer was finally able to read it. The screen went white and they eagerly awaited for something, anything to display but the screen turned blue again with the same error message. This time they both swore out loud.

"I'll have to take it to someone who can retrieve the data off of this," Jo told him as she removed the disc again and placed it back into the small plastic bag. She shut her laptop down and closed her eyes, sighing. Then she let out a huge yawn with several high-pitched squeaks.

"Oh, sorry," she said, smiling but embarrassed.

"Jo, it's been a long day. For both of us," Henry said. "You're exhausted and so am I," he admitted. "Time for you to get some rest and I'll make my own way home."

"Henry, it's late." The nautical clock on the mantel displayed 2:32 AM. "Wow, very late! Look, Henry, you might as well stay here until morning."

"No, Jo, I can't, I - "

"You can crash on the couch over there," she smirked. "Nice and comfy. I've slept there a lot of times myself." When he still looked uncertain, she swallowed and told him, "I'd feel a lot better not being alone tonight." Her eyes failed to meet his but he could see them glistening.

"Old memories about Sean mixing in with new revelations about his possible murder, well ... " her voice trailed off as her eyelids fluttered against unshed tears. "I ... I need a friend around right now."

"Of course, Jo," Henry replied. "I'll be more than happy to stay here with you, er, tonight. That's what friends are for." He smiled at her, happy to see her smile in return.

"Why don't you wait over there on the couch and I'll bring you some PJ's? You can use that blanket already on the back of the couch," she pointed out.

While he sat and waited for her to return, he took the opportunity to take in the room's decor. He could see Sean's tastes from some of the dark wood and masculine pieces but also Jo's modern feminist touches in the lighter colors and the glass-top dining room table. The nautical clock was of particular interest to him since he had an almost identical one in the shop that he'd salvaged from a Morgan family estate sale in 1877. He rose from his seated position and walked over to get a closer look at it.

"Sean was from a Navy family going back three generations." Jo's voice wafted into the room behind him. She dropped the PJ's on the couch and walked over to join him. "He was with JAG during his stint in the Navy before we met. He cut quite a figure in his uniform," she said, grinning.

"I'm sure he was a fine figure of a man," Henry said, turning around to face her. "And a fine lawyer." His expression turned serious as he gazed into her eyes. "Thank you again, Jo, for not running Lucas and me, uh, up, uh down ... ?" He broke out into a grin.

"Running you in," she corrected him with a laugh. They both became serious when they realized that they were only inches apart from each other. Just the tick of the clock on the mantel could be heard but just barely above their fluttering hearts. The pair felt drawn to each other.

Was Henry leaning towards her? Jo thought. Her breath caught in her throat. She had no idea that Henry was thinking the same of her. His palms had become sweaty again. But both reluctant lovebirds, still unwilling to declare their feelings for each other, caught themselves before the inevitable crush of longing lips and a tender embrace.

"Well, I ... I'll just go on up to bed," Jo said, stammering over Henry's over-eager agreements and noddings as she pointed to the staircase.

"Yes, yes, thank you, Jo, for ... for ... for everything," he chuckled nervously as he walked quickly over to the couch and picked up the PJ's. "Everything." He sighed and bid her goodnight.

"Night, Henry." Jo smiled and disappeared up the staircase.

He listened to her fading footsteps and began to trade his street clothes for the PJ's. He laid down on the couch and spread the blanket over himself. Lying back with his hands under his head, he closed his eyes, smiling at their almost kiss and whispered, "Night, Jo."

Notes: _

Reference to "Forever" TV episode S01/E06 "The Frustrating Thing about Psychopaths"