A/N: Hey everyone! I know, it's been a while since I've written anything for BT, but last night's episode was particularly inspiring. Here's just a quick one-shot of what I envisioned happening just after Christina left Vicki and Henry.

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Vicki’s heartbeat thudded loudly in the silent room as Henry cradled her in his arms. Her warmth seeped through his thin shirt, reminding him briefly of a time when he had been able to reciprocate that heat. He’d grown accustomed to his cold-blooded nature over time, but nothing could compare to the feeling of holding a live human being in his arms, let alone the woman he considered his future.

Holding her, he was reminded of the other time she’d been rendered unconscious, procuring her a similar position. Ironically, that time it had been entirely Henry’s fault that she’d been knocked out – this time he’d still been involved, though indirectly. If he’d listened to her, Christina wouldn’t have gotten to her so easily. She wouldn’t have nearly lost her life.

Staring down at the woman in his arms, he felt his heart swell. He hadn’t been lying when he said this woman was his future. Since that first moment in the club, there had been a connection between the two of them that was undeniable. Having known her for quite a few months now, the attraction he’d felt towards her had intensified, and he was beginning to question just where the boundary between them lay.

Vicki had once pointed out, though jokingly, how things between them could only end up tragic. Perhaps ‘tragic’ was a bit too strong, but rarely did true happy endings come about, particularly in the case of the undead. Throughout the centuries, he had loved, certainly, but nothing that could compare with the intense emotion he felt toward the P.I. The only thing comparable was how he had once felt about Christina, and over time, that love had faded, and after the past forty-eight hours, had crossed the line to hate. She had almost cost him his newfound happiness, and if he had lost her…

Having the two major women of his many lifetimes within such close proximity had rendered him incapable of rational thought. His loyalty to Christina had clouded his judgment, overpowering his feelings for Vicki. Luckily, she had seen through Christina’s façade and hadn’t given up trying to prove him wrong. She was, as always, his voice of reason, even when he wouldn’t buy what she was selling.

Her eyes were closed, eyelashes brushing softly against her cheek as Henry cradled her skull gently in one hand, lying her down on the couch. He leaned over her, their lips almost touching.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, wishing she were awake to hear his apology; he meant every word.

A dark bruise was beginning to form on her temple, and Henry reached out a hand, delicately brushing it along the side of her cheek. Her flesh was warm beneath his touch, and he could feel the blood pumping beneath her skin. She was so alive, and yet tonight he’d almost lost her. A moment later, and she would have died at the hands of a woman who had manipulated him, almost beyond repair.

Sitting back, he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. He’d let his emotions cloud his judgment, and not for the first time. Vicki was right – he would never learn. Part of him, despite his 450 years, was still seventeen, and, like a teenager, he was prone to making bad decisions – especially where Christina was involved.

He was still contemplating his inabilities as a person when a faint groan escaped the woman lying beside him. Immediately, he was leaning over her, cool hands caressing her face and easing the pounding in her head.

Slowly, one eye opened, and she squinted up into Henry’s solemn face.

“Who died?” she joked half-heartedly.

“Vicki, be serious,” Henry scolded, gently holding her down as she tried to sit up. “Lay still, I’ll be right back.”

Too tired to argue, Vicki nestled further into the cushions and closed her eyes. In the next room, she could hear Henry rummaging through the freezer. He was back in a few short moments, pressing a towelful of ice cubs against her temple.

“Thanks,” she murmured, enjoying the silence. She wasn’t sure she was up to talking about the past few days quite yet. As Mike had pointed out, an unpredictable Henry was a dangerous Henry, and he hadn’t been “her Henry” since the dead model had appeared on his doorstep. However, she had a feeling this incident wasn’t going to be easy to avoid, especially with the way Henry was looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, breaking the quiet.

Vicki didn’t doubt his apology, but the pounding in her head told her now was not the time for deep analysis.

“I should’ve listened to you.”

“Yep,” was all she said. His face fell slightly, and guilt kicked in, whether she wanted it to or not. “Listen, I understand. You thought you were helping a friend. It’s who you are.”

“And you could’ve died because I was too blinded by her lies to see reason.”

Cautiously, she reached out for his hand. Her fingers were just about to curl around his when she pulled back, letting her hand fall into her lap. Henry noticed her hesitation, but ignored it; she had every right to be angry with him. He hadn’t believed her when she’d said Christina’s intentions were less than noble, and after they’d just overcome a huge trust barrier. He had a lot of ground to make up.

“Vicki, I’m not really sure what you want me to say, because I can’t even find the words myself. I want to tell you how sorry I am for not trusting you, for not watching out for you, for being such a disappointment…”

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself,” she reminded him, throwing in a small smile to take the sting out of her words. “And you don’t need to apologize – I’ve already forgiven you.”

Henry stared down at her in mild surprise. She returned his gaze, her face calm and composed. Had he been in her situation, he doubted if he would’ve been able to forgive so easily, but her tone left no room for argument. She really had forgiven him, even though he didn’t deserve it.

Unlike Vicki, Henry didn’t hesitate to reach out and touch her. He ran the tips of his fingers lightly across her satin cheeks, her lips, her eyelids. How many times had he almost lost her now? And yet he had never bothered to put into memory every detail of the face he had become so enamored with.

She lay still, allowing his hands to brush across her skin like a gentle breeze. On any other occasion she probably would have pushed him away, but something kept her still now as one hand trailed along the side of her neck. Perhaps it was because she was so tired, or maybe she felt she owed it to him for coming to her rescue once again. However, deep down, she had a feeling it was much more than that. If she had learned anything over the past few days, it was that her feelings for Henry ran deeper than she was willing to admit. It was hard to fathom, but she had been jealous of his devotion to Christina, sick and twisted as it was. She had hardly slept, trying desperately to figure out why Christina had come back, and what it was that she wanted with Henry. Who, by the looks of things, was slowly returning to the man and vampire she’d grown used to.

Slowly, she reached out a hand and covered his with it, intertwining his fingers with hers. Their eyes met, and that initial spark, the one she had felt those many months ago in the bar, shot through her, leaving the hair on the back of her neck standing on end, and her arm covered in goosebumps.

“Do you think she’ll be back?” she asked quietly.

Henry shrugged. “I don’t think so, but one can never be certain.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “However, if she does, I doubt it will be in your lifetime.”

Vicki nodded mutely, and gingerly swung her legs over the side of the couch. She waited for a wave of nausea to pass, then slowly clambered to her feet, allowing Henry to help. When she was sure she wasn’t going to topple over, she carefully picked her way across the floor and reached for something behind her filing cabinet. Gingerly, she pulled out a tiny golden sun and handed it to Henry, who didn’t seem surprised to see it.

“Here,” she said, curling his fingers around it. “Take it.”

Henry stared down at the object for a long moment, then handed it back. “You keep it. I think you may need it more than I ever will.”

Vicki looked surprised, but at his goading, placed it back in her drawer and sighed. “I’m sorry I never told you I had it. I shouldn’t have kept that from you.”

The vampire shook his head in understanding. “I had a feeling you’d kept it. I’m not as stupid as I look sometimes,” he added with a half-smile. “If I hadn’t shown up when I did, I think you would’ve still found some way to use it, and the fact that you will be able to protect yourself against my kind in the future makes me feel a great deal better about letting you keep it.”

Vicki sat down at her desk, running a hand over her face. “I lied to her, you know,” she said quietly. “I told her we kept no secrets from each other.”

“We don’t.”

She shot him a look.

“I think we really need to work on trusting each other,” Henry admitted after a long moment.

“Agreed.”

Spreading his arms wide, Henry took a step forward. “So, in the spirit of honesty, I have a confession to make.” A small smile lit his face, and Vicki leaned forward in anticipation.

“The other night, when I told you we’d be best spending some time apart-”

“Henry, I already figured that one out. Nice try.”

He held up a hand. “Let me finish. When I told you we’d be best spending some time apart, I meant it.”

Vicki’s face fell, almost mirroring the look she’d given him that night. “Well, thanks for that. I feel so much better now.”

“Stop interrupting me,” Henry said lightly, coming around to her side of the desk and kneeling down in front of her. “But do you have any idea how hard it was for me to stay away? My heart ached, and I probably drove past your office a hundred times, wondering if you were home, if you were alright.”

Vicki was backing away slowly, wondering where on earth he was going with this. She was praying it wasn’t a marriage proposal.

Henry sensed her trepidation, and rushed on. “Vicki, you are first, and foremost, my friend. We’re partners, and to have to stay away, it was excruciating. Almost as excruciating as it was working with Celluci.” At that, she smiled. Cautiously, he reached out a hand and playfully tugged at her chin. “I messed up, Vic. And I know it’s going to take some time, but I hope we can move past this.”

She wanted to be angry with him, wanted to rub it in his face that he’d nearly cost her her life, wanted to remind him of the true definition of ‘partnership,’ but found that she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried, her anger refused to grow above a flickering flame that would soon burn out.

“It’s a definite possibility,” she murmured, the one eye not covered by the towel crinkling at the corner as she smiled. Friendship she could definitely do. After all, how many people had she known in her lifetime with as interesting a story as Henry’s? She couldn’t just throw the most entertaining part of her life away.

Suddenly businesslike, she thrust out a hand. “Friends?”

There was an undercurrent in the room, but Henry chose to ignore it. He wasn’t going to screw things up now, not after she’d just decided to forgive him. “Friends,” he murmured, taking her hand in his. He could feel the blood pumping faster beneath her skin, but chose to say nothing.

Perhaps ‘denial’ really was more than just a river in Egypt.