#morpayne

It is! They sure were getting really cozy while they were in there...

She watched him from her chair, her red lips curved in an amused smile as Henry took in his surroundings. An antique desk--that had once been his, if he wasn’t mistaken--topped with tidy stacks of papers and a slim computer. Plush chairs, soft pillows. Bookshelves filled with mundane titles. Electric kettle, still steaming, perched atop a stark gray filing cabinet. A beautiful woman, with wavy blonde hair and clever, clever eyes.

“Not what I expected,” Henry admitted, stepping into the mostly-ordinary office, and he closed the door behind him.

Mistress Payne let out a small laugh, and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Not enough crystal balls or bubbling cauldrons or jars of eyes, Dr. Morgan?”

He paused, taken aback. “You know my name?”

“Oh, I know a lot of things about you--your name, your age, your real age.” She gave him a teasing grin. “Why you’re here.”

Henry tried not to react, and hoped he hadn’t gone pale when the blood seemed to drain from his face. “Oh?” he said, lightly, and clasped his trembling hands behind his back.

Her expression softened. “It’s okay, Henry,” she said, with gentle sincerity that did nothing to relieve the unease in his gut. “We all have secrets. Immortality is...unusual, but it’s not the biggest secret I’ve encountered, and I take confidentiality very, very seriously. But I’m afraid I cannot help you. What you want is something I’m not willing to offer any of my clients, and, in your case, it’s also beyond my capabilities as a witch. I’m s--”

She was interrupted by a knock on the door. “That would be Detective Martinez and Detective Hanson,” she said, with a grimace, and got up from her seat. “They’re here to arrest me.”

Borderline NSFW-ish.