A/N: A loose end needs to be addressed from the 1987 film "Harry and the Hendersons". We pick up from the last scene of the movie.

Big Fete

The Hendersons, Dr. Wallace Wrightwood and Jacques LaFleur watched in wonder as Harry walked away, followed by several Sasquach including one that appeared to be a child. "Now Jocko, what for you?" Wrightwood asked while patting the reformed Bigfoot hunter on the shoulder.

"I don't know," he responded in his French-Canadian accent. "There's always Loch Ness."

Everyone smiled and watched until the last glimpse of their newest friends disappeared. "I'm never going to think of the woods the same again," George Henderson said to his wife.

"I'd be happy if you just think of them less often," Nancy retorted. "It's nice every couple of years, but give me the city any day. There's always plenty to do in Seattle."

"Does this mean I have to get rid of my rifle?" Ernie asked, pushing his glasses back onto his twelve-year old face.

"No son, but I think we're going to be spending a lot more time target shooting than hunting," his father said. After living with Harry for a few days, George had realized that Bigfoot was more human than animal and was reconsidering his whole dedication to hunting. The jury was still out, but he no longer thought about hunting as a sport.

"He was nicer than some boys at school," Sarah observed. Not only were her fellow sophomores immature, but she noted that many of the older boys were the same way.

"I think we've all learned some valuable lessons because of this," George said as he ushered his family towards the vehicles. His precious 1970 LTD Country Squire wagon was much worse for wear after Lafleur had stolen it and chased them up to the wilderness area on their way to free Harry to a safe environment. Wrighwood's 1952 Chevy Suburban was mostly intact, with only a large outward-facing dent where Harry had tried to sit upright with his massive height. "Life won't ever be the same again, but at least we can get back to something normal. As normal as we're ever going to get, I mean."

"Yeah, back to school for you kids and work for you George, with Irene coming over every day or two to see if anything is going on," Nancy said. Irene Moffitt was their next door neighbor, and wasn't really a bad sort - except she had an answer and opinion on everything and wasn't afraid to share it. In fact, she shared her opinions so often that Nancy had to think hard to recall the last time she heard Irene's husband Herb talk.

"Irene's going to be pretty bored when...when...oh no. Irene," George said as he froze in his tracks. "She's probably still passed out on the lawn by the back door!" Irene had spied LaFleur carrying a couple of roses from her garden as he tracked Harry towards the Henderson home. She had assumed he was the one that had taken every single rose from her prized bushes, not knowing that there was a Bigfoot next door at that very moment handing the bouquet to Sarah in apology for eating her corsage days earlier. When she confronted LaFleur with an electric carving knife, she had been shocked by Harry's face suddenly appearing in a window and she passed out before the whole group drove off in the chase to the mountains. "This could be bad. Very very bad. Emergency drill. Nancy, you and Sarah head back home in the wagon. Pretend as though nothing has happened. Jacques, you're with us. Dr. Wrightwood, we have to go by your place on the way home. Let's go!" The group broke into two, the women driving off in the station wagon while the men piled into the Suburban. Little Bob the dog hesitated then jumped into the Chevy to join the men.

When Nancy got back to their house, she was relieved that there were no police cars or other vehicles parked there. She and Sarah pulled all the way up the driveway and then entered the house through the front door. Very carefully, she moved the curtain to peek out the back window and saw no sign of Irene. She retreated back into the kitchen and started straightening up, at least pretending everything was normal. She started running out of things to do a half hour later when she caught the smell of oil burning, a sign that the Suburban had returned. In short order George and the rest entered. "Any sign of Irene?" he asked.

"Nothing. It's been...quiet."

"At least the National Guard haven't shown up. Okay, we've got a plan and there is just a slight hint of truth to it. For the record, there has been a Bigfoot sighting in the neighborhood."

"That part's true," she agreed.

"And we found evidence that he might been on our property. You and the kids are going to be hiding safely in the basement while I've found two experts to help determine if we're in danger here - we just came back from investigating around the neighborhood. Naturally, we have to check now to make sure our dear friends next door are safe. Any questions?"

"For the record, have we seen anything?"

"We saw something, but weren't sure what it was. We won't mention that happened while we were coming back from our camping trip or that we DEFINITELY know what it was now. Okay, we have to pull this off quickly and on the first try so everyone act rushed and excited."

"Honey, you ARE rushed and excited."

"Am I? Good. Okay, off you go Nancy and we're off to next door. If we don't come back in an hour, call the President."

"The president of what?" she asked. George gave her THAT look along with a smirk and the three hurried out the door.

Wrightwood retrieved a box from his car and the trio nearly ran up to the Moffitt's front door, where George knocked hard on the frame. "Irene! Herb!" he shouted.

The door opened quickly and a middle-aged man immediately shushed the group. "Quiet, please!" he whispered.

"Herb," George continued after lowering his voice "is everything okay? Bigfoot sightings have been on the news. Where's Irene?"

Herb quickly glanced behind him and then leaned forward to speak quietly. "It's funny you should ask. I found her passed out in the back yard. Kim Lee and I carried her into the house and I put her on the sofa. I think she's been working out too hard on that exercise bike and maybe got dehydrated or something."

"Did you call a doctor?"

"No! I just let her rest. Quite frankly, I've kind of enjoyed the quiet," he said with a grin.

"Can we talk to you outside?" George asked, then pulled Herb through the doorway without waiting for a reply before shutting the door, leaving them all outside.

"What's this all about?" Herb asked, then took his first real look at the two other men. "Who are these guys?" he asked in a more normal tone, no longer needing to be quiet.

"Experts. I'll explain in a moment. Dr. Wrightwood, Jacques - go do your thing." The two men hurried off and George continued. "You've probably heard about the Bigfoot sightings around the cityin the last few days. I have reason to believe that he - or she - has been in our neighborhood, so i found some experts to help; I want to make make sure our neighbors are safe. They're out scouring our properties for clues right now as we speak. In the meantime, I think we should make sure Irene is okay."

"Sounds reasonable. But do we have to wake her? There a Mariner's game on TV I'd like to see." This was already more than George had ever heard Herb speak before, but to be fair he didn't have to compete with Irene for time at the moment.

"If it were just up to me, I'd say let her rest, but...um...Nancy is worried about her. Let's check. If you have to take her to the hospital, they probably have a television in the waiting room where you could watch the game." Herb brightened at the suggestion and let George in.

Irene was still lying on the sofa, although she was starting to move a little. George approached her carefully and gently touched her on the sleeve. "Irene? Are you okay? It's George."

Her eyes twitched and then flew open. She stared at George blankly until recognition slowly dawned over her face. "Must have...passed out coming back home," she said slowly. "I was following a man who stole my roses and...and..." she said before she started to swoon again.

"You look like Nancy did after she saw something yesterday."

Irene focused suddenly. "What did she see? WHAT DID SHE SEE!?"

"We weren't sure, but we think it was Bigfoot. Others have seen him too - it was on the news. I've got a couple of experts looking around outside right now."

"That must be what I saw! It was horrible!"

"I don't think he looks horrible at all," George muttered. More loudly he added "I mean, from the drawings I've seen. Where did you see him?"

"In your back window. I followed a man to your back door and I saw...it...in your window."

"In my window?" George asked, feigning surprise. "I don't see how you could possibly have...oh...ha ha ha!" he said, forcing a fake laugh. "No wonder! I would have been scared out of my wits too. You must have caught a glimpse of Dr. Wrightwood's mask."

"Dr. Who?"

"No, Dr. Wrightwood. You see, I was concerned that...whatever it was...might be wandering around the neighborhood." True enough, although it had been out of concern for Harry himself that George had searched the city. "And after Nancy saw something..."

"Did she see Bigfoot?" Irene asked excitedly, while looking around for the electric carving knife she had been carrying when she passed out.

"We don't know for sure." True enough again; George hadn't quite come to terms yet with what - or who - Harry was. "I sought out an expert, Dr. Wrightwood, to help determine if we were in danger. He in turn brought a associate of his that is an expert tracker. They are out right now looking for clues in our yards. Herb just met them when we arrived."

Irene seemed to become a little more relieved. "How did I get here? I was behind your house and then...things get a little fuzzy. Where's Kimchee?" she asked using the incorrect name she always used for her gardener.

"Somehow you must have made it back to our yard before you passed out from the stress," Herb told her. "Kim Lee found you and we carried you back in here to rest on the sofa. You might have been dehydrated too."

"Where's my knife?"

"In the kitchen, plugged in and charging." her husband assured her. Irene was VERY particular about that knife.

There was a knock on the door and George responded with "I'll get it" before hurrying to answer. Irene could hear "Come in fellas" and George returned with two strangers.

Well, one was a stranger. She recognized the man with the beard and yelled "Rose killer!"

Jacques recoiled and put his hands in front of him. "No, no madam, you are mistaken. I killed no roses."

George stepped in. "May I introduce Jacques LeFleur, expert tracker specializing in Bigfoot."

Jacques bowed. "I only followed a trail of roses from your garden in search of my quarry," he explained. "My keen sense of smell allows me to find what perhaps my eyes cannot see. Allow me to demonstrate. Would madam breathe for me please?" Irene looked at George with a baffled look on her face but he just nodded an okay. She did as requested and Jacques sniffed the air. "You ate eggs with butter for breakfast." He sniffed again. "Coffee, bread lightly toasted with a jelly or jam - boysenberry if I'm not mistaken." George's eyes widened - he hadn't prepped Jacques for this, but the man really was good.

"It was only a small piece," Irene confessed. "And who is this other gentleman?" Her tone was definitely softening.

Wrightwood approached her. "Dr. Wallace Wrightwood, curator of the North American Museum of Anthropology and published Bigfoot scholar." He handed her his business card.

"The biggest expert in the area - maybe the whole country," George bragged while thinking that the man was probably the only expert.

Irene pulled herself up, with the help of Wrightwood's extended hand. "I'm honored. Did you find anything?"

"I can smell that he's been here within the last two days," Jacques offered. "It appears he either took - or ate - your roses. I found hair fibers that match such a creature, and also footprints in the garden. Professor?" he prompted.

"Indeed we did," Wrightwood went on as he went to the box he brought in. "I took the liberty of casting a few of those footprints in quick-setting plaster." He held up two examples. "You can see just how closely it matches an example that I collected several years ago while in the mountains."

Irene nodded agreement - one huge footprint looked just like another to her but if a professional said so it must be true. "Are...are we in danger?" she asked.

"Oh I don't think so," Wrightwood continued. "In my professional opinion, the creature that left those prints out there is probably far away from here, in the remote mountains that are its natural home. These creatures are herbivores and quite timid, actually. He was probably just as scared of things in our city as we are of him. I don't know the exact circumstances that caused him to be here, but he probably found his way back home as quickly as possible." Too true, as George hadn't had the opportunity to fill Wrightwood in on every detail of their experience with Harry.

"So...Bigfoot was actually here?" Irene asked. "Maybe we should contact the news. I could get on TV!"

"You could do that," George interrupted as he knelt beside her. "But just think about it. You'd have every kook and reporter trampling through our yards at all hours of the day and night. No rest. No peace. No privacy," he emphasized as he looked around at imaginary people in imaginary bushes.

"No privacy?" Herb asked.

"None. You won't even be able to go to the store without being bothered while shopping, and you just might come home to a stranger digging through your trash looking for God knows what."

"I...ah...guess we can keep it to ourselves," Irene mused out loud. "I'm sure Nancy would enjoy the peace and quiet."

"I can say with complete confidence that she's had enough excitement as it is," George said with his hand on his heart. "In fact, unless you gentlemen need anything else here i suggest we leave the Moffitts so that they may relax and enjoy a little quiet time."

The others agreed and they all left the Moffitt home and said their goodbyes outside before the two experts climbed into the Suburban and drove off in a cloud of smoke. George returned home and sounded the 'all clear' as soon as he closed the door behind him. The kids raced out of the basement first, followed by their dog and finally Nancy a few minutes later with a basket of laundry. "Contrary to advertising, the leading laundry detergent does NOT get out all odors," she stated. "Bigfoot smell require TWO wash cycles."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time we host a Bigfoot party," George said sarcastically as he hugged as his wife. "It will be the fete of the year. But the Moffitts are taken care of for now at least."

"I hope you have a story for the police just in case they come calling."

"Gee, I hadn't thought about that yet. Hmmm," George pondered.

"Well, as a hunter and fisherman you were always good at making up stories about how the big one got away. You'll come up with something," she said.

"True, but for once I'm glad the big one DID get away."

The End

A/N: I JUST managed to finally see this film, even though I've known about it since it came out. After watching it, I wondered how they would handle their neighbor (who was just a bit on the nosy side) after all was said and done.