...and this is not actually episode-related, just somewhere after The Pugilist Break.

Also, crack, people. So much crack.

Abe was unwell again; his blood pressure was acting up. He believed it was a reaction to the changing weather. Henry didn't consider him to be in any real danger, but just to be safe, they decided to close the shop for the day.

So he was worried. They could afford it, and he called the morgue and impressed the need for quiet efficiency upon the well-meaning Mr. Wahl. In all probability, the building would still be there when he deemed his son well.

Unless zombie apocalypse took the 11th Precinct by surprise, but Lucas promised to take care of it.

He folded the serviette and carried Abe's lunch to his room.

'Chicken noodle soup? Yay! I want a story, too!'

'His name was Abraham Morgan, and he lived dangerously.'

'Ha. Ha.'

'Here you are,' Henry hooked up a chair with his foot. He almost dropped the tableware, almost sat down upon his patient's knees, and almost knocked the clock off the table (and how he did that, he had no idea), but managed to straddle the recalcintrant piece of furniture and to pass Abe his much needed sustenance. That was flair. Trademark Morgan flair.

'Dad? I didn't mean a story of how you took a swim because you couldn't very well give me a plate when you came in.'

'I was choosing between the multitude I know.'

Abe grinned.

'Oh, I see. You have already chosen.'

'Winnie-the-Pooh. Where they save Piglet from the flood.'

Henry corrected his seating arrangements. He loved that book! He'd sought it out as soon as they'd settled in the States. It was one of the first that he'd read to his little boy, back when Abe hadn't known what 'bear' stood for.

He was certain he knew it by heart.

'Only, use your own words,' Abe added smugly.

'What?'

'Tell it like you lived it. Jazz it up, Pops.'

Henry squinted at the man. A vague suspicion formed in his mind.

But Abraham was happily slurping noodles, and he decided to let it pass.

'All right,' he began slowly. 'It rained and it rained and it rained, as it often does in New York.'

...Piglet was becoming a bit worried. Sure, he could call Pooh any time, and there was not too much paperwork, but when you're a Very Small Animal Entirely Surrounded by Water – or by Potential Brain-Eaters, which is not any better in most senses – you begin to feel a little Anxious.

Other people might have been better suited to hold the fort. His boss, for example.

'Pooh hasn't much Brain, but he never comes to any harm. He does silly things and they turn out right,' Abe supplied helpfully.

...Yes. So. There was also Owl, with his two chicks happily destroying what remained of his Brain. Owl wasn't too smart, but he would know what to do if he were surrounded by water (slight consolation). There was Rabbit, he of the Clever Plans and too many divorces –

'Hey!'

… And Kanga, who had the whole Department to take care about – Kanga did so many Good Things in a day, it was a wonder she had any time to think them through. And Eeyore, who never cared about developing his assistants' skills and might actually miss the whole Zombie Apocalypse if nobody told him (and they wouldn't.) But what would Christopher Robin do?

Then he suddenly remembered that Christopher Robin... Christopher Robin... made Pooh buy a cellphone the other day.

'Really?'

'I haven't decided. Hush.'

...So he took his own cellphone out and typed in a despairing message, in this new-fangled fashion which disregards both grammar and syntax, and sent that message to Pooh, who, after all, had learned so many things in Guam that a little piece of code-breaking seemed entirely within his capabilities.

Meanwhile, Pooh was busy, saving his treasure from being ruined by horrible atmospheric conditions.

'Thanks, Dad.'

'You're welcome.'

...Pooh and Christopher Robin were on speaking terms again, after Pooh promised to behave and let Christopher Robin do his job for which he had trained for years before they even met. He was a bit antsy to get back into action, though, and when Piglet's garbled signal came through, and his powers of deduction failed him (yes, it happens), he took care of his treasure, mounted his bike and rode it through the unrelenting rain to Christopher Robin's place. Christopher Robin was rapidly becoming antsy for action, too, what with having only Owl to discuss their abismal circumstances with, and so was very glad to meet his bear.

'They rushed into each other's arms.'

'My story.'

...'How did you get here, Pooh?' asked Christopher Robin, when he was ready to talk again. 'On my bike,' Pooh answered proudly, and got an earful about wet asphalt. Luckily, he had a riddle, and they all tried to unlock the secret, and all failed. The only way to solve it was to go ask Piglet, and they stood up and went to the elevator... And there was a power outage.

'We must take the stairs,' said Winnie. 'It's dark there, and we need a flashlight, so that Piglet would not immediately leap at us with his machete that he keeps behind the lockers and I kindly pretend I don't know about.'

'I have a flashlight in my phone,' said Christopher Robin. 'But I forgot to charge it today.'

'I have a lighter,' said Owl. 'Even though I don't smoke, you understand. But it is a small flame, and he might not pause to let us all have a turn at illuminating our faces.'

Christopher Robin agreed that the lighter was indeed too small for the three of them, so they left Owl in the office and crept down the stairs, and just as they heard a bloodcurdling scream...

Abraham sat up.

'Come on! Dad! What happened?'

'Sh-sh, I'm getting to it.'

...the lights went back on. You can imagine how happy Piglet was to see it was indeed Christopher Robin and Pooh, and he asked why they didn't just message him back. The End.

'Whew,' said Abe, sagging into the pillow. 'What a wringer. Wait, did Lucas really text you?'

Henry smirked and tucked his son in.

'If you can't distinguish fact from fiction, I must not be that bad at telling stories.'