I really hope that the romance between Herbert and Heather isn't called rushed or forced in any way; I like the idea of one like theirs once in awhile. :) That spark was always there even if the lovebirds don't realize it right away, no matter how much time passes.

Chapter Eleven

What is Love?

Dan still couldn't believe he had let Herbert West back into his house after dropping Adrian off at his friend's house. This man invaded his life and was involved in wrecking it, but he also had nothing to do with Megan's death; one of Hill's zombies did. Just like with Emily Phillips. But still, if he hadn't come, none of it would have happened.

You're too much into the past, his mind whispered. You have a life now.

But now he's back, as well to ruin it.

No, he and Heather are keeping you out of it.

"Penny for your thoughts, Daniel?" West asked when they were in the car, he in the front passenger seat. He shook his head, keeping his grip of the wheel and them both on course. Whatever the girls were up to right now, it was all four adults for the day until the kid was back. It was rare he and Francesca had alone time now that they had a child...which also made him think of what she showed him of the papers. To know his former partner never knew his parents, lost his teacher who was the only father he'd known and mentored him in college years before he collapsed of a heart attack...all right, sympathy there, so maybe they could let go of the past. It wouldn't be erased all the way, but it had to be settled. "If it's about Heather, I have to say she exceeds her teacher now."

Dan chuckled. "Yeah, she's amazing," he admitted. "She's a great person, caring, smart, and enchanting, though she didn't go out and socialize much. Her only friend when she was a kid left for New York for fashion lines after graduation." Herbert shook his head at that. "Don't think they had time to meet after that, but they talk when they can."

"She's exceptional," West agreed, looking down at his lap where he folded his hands. "But she deserves better than just palliative medication and surgery. Her skills are brilliant; why else would she have been at the top of her class thanks to you?" He looked to Dan and smiled; he returned it. Things were beginning to warm a little...if only that question hadn't come up. "What happened to us, Daniel?" he asked suddenly.

His hands nearly jerked on the steering wheel, but he regained control and brought them over to the sidewalk; they were four more blocks from the house, and nobody was coming, not even a cop car for a ticket. He can't be seen with me, either. "What are you talking about?"

"We used to be friends...partners. Almost like brothers." Herbert's eyes had hardened along with the rest of his face. "I hold no more hard feelings for you, not since that day in the court, after all we've been through, how I was all you had since the disaster in the morgue, and everything else. Even after Peru when I tended to your wound, brought you home to safety. But both times – Hill's intestines nearly killing me and those fumes, and then the crypt nearly crushing me to death – you left me!" Now there was an inferno in those eyes, the white dots in the black pupils twinkling with more fire than the diamond in Francesca's ring.

Dan felt himself sinking under the pressure; he struggled to keep control of himself, unsure how to absorb all of this without guilt. "Y-yeah, you're right. You...saved me in Peru, we worked together, we were friends. And I...left you."

"Choosing a woman over me each time," Herbert snapped. "But Heather never left me. She got me out of the prison alive, and you weren't there." Dan noticed something in him he never remembered seeing or hearing in him before: adoration and security. Is he... He gulped at the mere thought. ...falling for her?

"Leaving the place I thought would make you get over this –"

"You knew me too well to know I couldn't do that," Herbert interrupted. "That place merely drove me further, and I never would have uncovered the Nano-Plasmic Energy. And the Warden and the countless prisoners were nothing but monsters. Murderers and rapists, headed by an equal inhuman thing," he spat, pushing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. "I might have redone my serum again, but it was stolen by the Warden who injected it into dead inmates and guards to do his bidding; that riot was started by one of the other animals who got out of his cage and freed the rest. They deserved the end they got; you'd think the rest of society would breathe a sigh of relief."

He debated on this. That all made sense in a sick way, but Herbert West never killed for the sake of what those other men around him in that place were locked up for; it was either the person deserved it or self-defense. "And you were right," he added. "About whole life, not mismatched freaks."

Dan wasn't sure when he started crying; he felt a little wetness roll down his cheek, and reached with one hand to wipe it off. God, I must be pathetic, crying like this. If Francesca saw, she would either kiss it away or wipe it off herself. He knew what this was for; it was too late to take back his regret on testifying against his old friend here. Him gone had made his fears greater, but now they were fading more and more now that he was sitting right next to him in his own car. "Well, I'm glad you're not making anymore monsters that way," Dan spoke, his voice cracking slightly. His bubbling emotions were overwhelming that he couldn't help but lean in against Herbert's chest; his whole body stiffened then, but Herbert soon relaxed and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close in a near brotherly fashion. "Oh, God, Herbert...I'm so sorry...so sorry..." He was blubbering it all out; Francesca would be making lunch, so she and Heather were waiting back at the house, but he needed to get this all out before they got back and he looked like shit. "Please forgive me. Please." He squeaked it out like a little child instead of a grown man, making Herbert laugh.

That laugh wasn't smooth or like his usual mad giggles – it was cracking, too, as its owner was fighting to keep himself together as they held onto each other, trying to renew the old friendship they'd long lost. "Don't beg for it, Dan. I forgave you long ago." He patted his back then and made him sit up so they looked each other in the eyes, a wide grin plastered on Herbert's face. "Now let's pull together and get home before the wife worries."

~o~

Heather noticed the change between the two men of her life when they returned; they were supposed to be back less than half an hour ago because it didn't take long to get to little Adrian's friend's house. But when they did come back, and she was helping Francesca make Italian noodle soup for lunch – Italian didn't strike her much when she was younger, but Francesca made it memorable – she noticed along with the older woman how the two men seemed more...happier than before and laughing with each other. Like they were...best friends again.

"What did you guys do to make this change?" she asked, smiling herself.

"Don't tell me you two are partners again," Francesca admonished, though she was smiling, too. Her husband laughed and went over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Baby, don't worry about that. We're just friends again." He looked over and winked at Herbert, who shook his head, smiling and joining Heather's side, pecking a little kiss on her cheek, though slowly, hesitantly, like he wasn't sure if she wanted it. The feeling felt good, and she held her cheek out to him to receive another, which got both Cains' attention.

"Something between you two that we don't know about?" Dan asked, an eyebrow raised.

Heather rolled her eyes. "Like what?"

Francesca laughed. "You two, more than just partners. Because partners do not behave the way you two are now, not even kiss like that. I see your face every time you look at him, Heather." She blushed at the Italian's voicing of her glances. Well, Italians were known to detect whether a person was trouble, or otherwise. And known to tell whether someone liked another or not, which was what applied now.

"Okay, yeah, I'm not gonna lie," Heather admitted, blushing in embarrassment that she was actually saying this in front of the man beside her. "Yes, he makes me feel something. I do like him, but..." She trailed off, unsure how to answer in front of all these people. They laughed, including Herbert.

"Would you call it love?" That surprised her; Francesca who hated Herbert, and Dan who tried talking her out of working at the prison and with the experiments, were both asking her if she loved Herbert? Great, now how do I get myself out of this?

"What exactly is love, Francesca?" Herbert questioned.

She was taken aback, like she hadn't expected him to ask her. "It's all right, baby," Dan assured her, rubbing her hand in his.

"Ah...love is an amazing, indescribable feeling," she started, still dazed, "and it's the need to be with that person. But what happens is when you love them, there's so much you want for them: you want them happy, you want to always be with them and never let them out of your sight. Sometimes when you hurt each other, you want to give them the benefit of the doubt. You never stop thinking about them everywhere you go, morning and night, and the whole day. It doesn't matter how long you two have been with each other, either, and regardless of the circumstances. As well..." She paused there, reaching up to wipe a tear that was forming at the corner of her eye in the midst of her speech. Then she leaned into her husband's embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her to hold her close.

"It feels like, if you ever separate, that wonderful feeling is at the bottom of your heart; you can't be rid of it no matter how hard you try...especially when it comes to your first love, or your true love after your first if the first time never works out."

"Of course." Herbert's words were breathless, amazed even. All eyes turned on him now; Heather saw his handsome face contorted with the latter amazement. "It's what he told me once, a long time ago."

"Dr. Gruber told you this?" she asked quietly. Of course he did, idiot! Who doesn't? Unless that person was heartless enough to keep something precious from someone like him, and then he'd grow up without a heart.

Herbert nodded absently, his face blank as he recalled a memory he had not thought of for a long time. "He said nearly exactly the same thing you did, Francesca. He raised me when my parents died before I was born; he was married once before she died of the plague, and he never found another. He had no children, so I was all he had in his life, and I swore to pass on his legacy once his time ran out. Among the re-agent we were making, he promised me that I would someday find someone I would share this with, and any weaknesses I have." Now his voice sounded constricted, like he was trying his hardest not to cry; when was he going to let himself out of his shell for once? "But I never loved a woman because my job came first. I feared, deep down when I never would admit it to myself or anyone else, that I would be crushed and lose her like I lost Hans Gruber."

Francesca was walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck for a hug, surprising once again both Dan and Heather, as well as Herbert himself, whose body stiffened as the woman he'd hated as much as he'd hated Meg – from what Dan told her – hugged him upon hearing his tragic story. "And all this time I've been sick of what you did to so many people, but now I should let that go." She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. "West, please take my advice. Don't ever be afraid to find a woman and fall in love with her. Whether or not you get hurt doesn't matter; it hurts because it is real." She took him by the forearms and shook him gently for emphasis. "In the end, it's all paid off."

~o~

The whole idea of sneaking into Herbert's guest room to have a "private chat" with him about the topic of love made her nerves quiver with trepidation and paranoia of the unknown. It was eight at night, and she and him were to leave tomorrow morning, and Adrian had been put to bed just now and was having his daddy read a story to him. It made her wonder what it would actually be like to be a mother someday.

Her parents hadn't been the best examples in her teenage years; before Emily was killed, they were, but so much changed that Heather wasn't sure if motherhood was the thing for her, or if Herbert could raise a child. The thought of even starting a relationship with him amidst the troubles that might follow after all her time spent with him! Well, we'll take one step at a time, like Dan and Fran said. That's how it goes in a relationship. Wearing a t-shirt and sweat pants, hair in a ponytail, she stood before the door, the light on beneath which told her he was still awake. Heather raised her hand slowly and knocked on it three times, slowly, because her body was still full of the worries she thought silly and shouldn't have.

"Yes?" came the muffled reply.

He was sitting on the bed, wearing an old-fashioned plaid robe and pajama pants, looking so normal, and his glasses in place; he looked so boyish again. This was how she wanted things to be, and she smiled nervously at the sight of him. He looked up from the book he was reading and smiled back at her. "Oh, Heather, I thought you'd be asleep by now." He marked his spot by folding a corner down and closing the book, folding his arms across his chest.

She walked over and sat down at the foot of the bed. "Herbert..." she started slowly, "...about the talk of love earlier, and what you and I have gone through..." She stopped there, knowing he would catch up.

"It's funny I was thinking about the same thing. Come here." He patted down his side of the bed so she crawled over and sat beside him. He looked her up and down appreciatively but said nothing. "Heather, I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again. I'm just at the point in my life where I feel something is missing. I'm on the run, still, but nobody has so much as uttered my name, yet I believe in a matter of time, they'll announce me and pronounce me dead; I just know it." He paused there, his lips pursed, looking down at the book in his hands. "I spent my life alone, so many years in a cell with my books and the only source I was sure would charge a body back to life that my re-agent couldn't on its own. Now that I fulfilled my mission but yet to continue it on another subject in a matter of time, I feel like there's something else I need."

She knew what he was talking of, but she didn't have to say the words when she leaned up and kissed his cheek. He turned his face back to her then, and once he did, Heather found it in her to kiss him full on the mouth. Never been kissed before, and he was her first; she was his first, too. We must really be that special, she thought, the joke making her giggle against his mouth and draw away.

Herbert frowned at her. "Are you amusing yourself, Heather?"

She stopped herself. "Oh, sorry. I just think we really have something special. Neither of us has been with another human being before." She leaned her head against his shoulder, inhaling his natural, musky manly scent. "But I think we should take it slow and see how things turn out."

Herbert's warm, soft lips were against her forehead. "I'd very much love nothing more," he breathed, warm and tingling on her skin.

And so she spent the rest of the night in his room, again naughty happening beyond reading with him and more chatter, and finally turning the lights off and cuddling each other for the last of the black hours.

Just the mere topic of love and the stories "On the Subject of Love", "Re-Union" by affulmargin, and "Why Risk It?" by madwriter223. :D How about that? It's amazing how a simple oneshot, before more research into the topic, can get you so touched and inspired.