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Tuesday night, Madelyn keeps Hank company. She manages to get a little more information about the disastrous date, and gets asked a rather personal question.

It took him longer to get ready for bed than it had, but Hank was very, very thankful that he didn't need any help in the bathroom yet. With Maddie around, though, he wasn't going to sleep undressed the way he usually did. He didn't even own any pyjamas, though... he compromised with boxer shorts, the bright red ones with orange frogs on them. The colours were pretty. He peeked out of the bathroom. She was still there, right?

She was. Poring over what looked like a faxed copy of a restaurant bill, she caught the flash of bright colours out of the corner of her eye and smiled. "Hey," she said, putting the paper aside and patting the spot beside her on the couch. "I've got come hot chocolate made. Come and sit while I check those cuts?"

"Okay." Hank ambled over, smiling at her. Hot chocolate. Yay! He took one of the big mugs with his left hand, holding out his right arm. Most of the cuts were there or on his torso. "Don't hurt much."

"I like to make sure," she told him, inspecting the smaller cuts that hadn't been stitched and covered first. Should heal nicely, yes. The biggest one was on his shoulder, and she carefully unwrapped the bandage (no adhesive on fur, no way!) to make sure he hadn't pulled the stitches). "I don't think I said, but thank you. You came just at the right time."

"Nobody going to hurt you," he said very firmly, patting her hand. "Won't let 'em." That much, at least, he was still clear on. Nobody was going to hurt Maddie. Or the students, or anyone. He wouldn't let them.

"And I don't want to be hurt, believe me. But I wish you hadn't had to do that..." She didn't have to mention the obvious deterioration - she knew Hank had noticed it as well. "I've been thinking," she said presently, going on with her examination, switching her attention to his side. Yep, stitches were still in place. "Or rather, Catseye gave me a reason to think. Maybe we've been looking at this the wrong way."

"Wrong way?" he asked, lifting his arm out of the way and sipping his hot chocolate. Mmm. Tasty. And it was nice to have Maddie fussing over him a bit... he HAD been brave, after all.

"We've been looking for a medical cause for what's happening, a virus, an allergy, some sort of pathogen... but what if it was some sort of other agent? Like someone using their powers on you?" She finished her examination with a pat on his knee (since there weren't any cuts there) and reached for the fax she'd been looking at. "That date, the one that went wrong... Do you remember telling me you felt dizzy and sick afterwards, and thought you might have had too much to drink?"

Hank thought it over. "Yes..." he said slowly. He'd felt very bad, inside him as well as in his head. "Wanted to throw up. Head was all fuzzy." The memory didn't upset him much right now... there were worse things than a bad date, he knew THAT now. But he had felt very bad, he was sure.

"This is the bill from your table at the restaurant that night," she went on, showing it to him. "See here? There was only one bottle of wine. And we both know it takes more than that to make you drunk, even if you did have it all yourself."

Hank nodded slowly. "I'm too big?" he said, a little uncertainly. He thought he remembered that that was why. He had to have lots of something for it to affect him, like he had to eat a lot to get full. And if they'd had it, he would have paid for it. So there could only have been one bottle, surely. "Think... that might be... why I'm so confused?"

"That's right, you're so large, it takes a lot of anything to affect you," Madelyn confirmed, reminding herself to slow down a little so Hank could keep up. "And I don't know yet, but I'd like to talk to her, see if maybe there was something she noticed that night. Do you remember her name, Hank?" No point getting him too excited about this, especially if she was wrong - there wasn't a lot to go on.

Hank frowned. "I think... Erica," he said slowly. "Like Magneto, but a girl. Erica. The last part... uhhh..." He looked down at his hands, trying to make his fading mind work. Television. Something... television-like. Only she was dark, not blonde... Brady. That's right. He was thinking of Brady. Only not quite. "Bradley," he remembered, beaming proudly at Maddie. He'd remembered!

"Very well done," Madelyn told him, giving his knee another squeeze since the shoulder closest was the one that had been hurt. She wrote the name down in the notebook she'd brought along with her. "And she was a geneticist, wasn't she? So if I run her name past a few people in the field, they'll be able to tell me where she works." She was also fully intending to run the name past a couple of old contacts as well. It helped having drinks occasionally with Harry down at the DMV in New York.

"I guess..." Hank sighed. "Wish could help," he said sadly. He could still fight, but he couldn't help with anything like this... and it had been his best thing, once. It was a sad thought.

Putting aside the paperwork for now, Madelyn turned to face him a little more fully. "I know, hon. But you have helped, both now and last night, and this is what I'm trained at. So trust me, okay? And in the meantime, you can keep an eye on Moira, make sure she doesn't over do things and get her to eat..." She gave him a slightly mischievous smile. "Be all sneaky, yes? She won't remember to feed herself, but if you tell her you're hungry, well, she couldn't say no, could she?"

Hank brightened. "Yeah! And I'm always hungry." He tried to look helpful and reliable. "I look after Moira. An' the baby." He remembered, and smiled. "Felt Dani's baby kick," he added. "Yesterday."

"Not long to go for Dani, just another three months," Madelyn agreed. "She'll need sitting on onc eshe's really close, I think - she forgets there's things she shouldn't be doing. But we'll look after her - all of us." Belatedly she remembered her own hot chocolate, and picked up the mug. "Mmm, chocolate."

"Chocolate good. And we take care of Dani." Hank nodded. Babies took a lot of looking after. He hoped he'd still be around to help. "I like babies," he added wistfully, because it was true. "So cute and little..."

"Very cute," Madelyn agreed, an odd ache in her chest as she heard that tone. "You'll have to come visit my family with me one day and meet my brother's kids. Not quite babies any more, but very cute. And like I said, not long before Dani has hers - I think she'll be needing all the help she can get. Or we can offer without overwhelming her," she added with a brief, wry smile.

"She said I could help," Hank agreed. "Would like to meet your brother's kids, too. I can make Cookie Monster voice." He gave her a thoughtful look. "You want kids?" he asked curiously. "Someday?"

She opened her mouth to give the pat answer, and then closed it again, blushing a little. "Someday," she said simply. "I've sat for Sarah and Michael many times since they were born, and I have to admit, watching Joe and Kate together, with the kids... it's something I'd like to have someday for myself." She shrugged a little. "Still, I wouldn't mind an Nobel Prize someday either - doesn't mean I'll get either."

"Kids are better," Hank said firmly. "Want some too. A lot. Since I was young." He touched her cheek gently. "Your chances... better than mine," he said softly. "You'll get them."

"So will you, Hank. You'd be too good a father for it not to happen." Madelyn's eyes gleamed suspiciously bright for a moment, and she reached up and took his hand. "Lots of little Hanks, all sugar high. Imagine Charles' reaction."

Hank giggled, squeezing her hand gently. "He'd do his face like this," he agreed, doing a creditable impression of Charles's patient-but-very-disappointed face. "And say 'not on the ceiling'."

"That he would," agreed Madelyn, laughing. Hank's impersonation was really rather good.

"Used to say that to me. When was a student." Hank giggled a little more at the memory. "Used to sit up on things an' jump down an' scare people."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Madelyn asked with an affectionate look. "Mind you, from the stories Scott tells me, I'm not surprised."

"I'm bad," Hank agreed, giving her a mock-shamefaced look. Then he yawned, showing a lot of teeth. "And tired. Big day. We should sleep." He gave her a hopeful look. "Still stay on the couch? Don't want to be by myself..."

"Sure, hon." Finishing her chocolate, she set her mug down on the table. "I'll take care of cleaning up. Let's get you to bed, okay?"

"Okay." He finished his own hot chocolate, and looked at the mug. "Have to brush my teeth again?" he asked plaintively. Under the circumstances, surely one night without brushing properly wouldn't hurt them too much...

"Not if you brush them again in the morning," Madelyn said, getting up and holding her hand out to him. He was becoming more and more child-like, and it broke her heart to watch. "Let's get you all tucked up, hmm? If you like, I can read you something before you sleep."

"Okay." He took her hand gently... so tiny in his. "Like that." He crawled into bed, and smiled up at her a bit wistfully. This wasn't quite how he would have liked to get her into his room, but... right now, it was nice. Being looked after. "Poetry? Got some books over there..." It didn't matter if he didn't understand it... he still liked the way it sounded.

That was an _enormous_ bed. Madelyn blinked at the sheer size, and found herself thinking there was an awful lot of room in there... Pushing aside the thought as she pulled the blankets up around Hank, she moved over to the bookshelf. Hmm... Pulling out a volume of TS Eliot - "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats" - with a smile, she returned and sat on the side of the bed next to him. "Up for some Naming of Cats?" she asked with a grin.

"Please." He wriggled around until he could see her properly. She really was beautiful... "Like the cats. Read them to Miles sometimes."

"Carlie loves this book," she said. "Even now - she won't give up her copy, even though it's so dog-eared it's falling apart. I used to read it to her before I left home..." A soft smile touched her lips at the memory of seven-year-old Carlie begging her to read about the Jellicle Cats and Pollicle Dogs yet again. Then she looked up at Hank and caught the look he was giving her and blushed again. "Uh, yeah. Let's see what we have here..."

She looked even lovelier with that soft, wistful smile on her face. Hank snuggled down to listen, and daydream a little before he drifted into sleep.