Mary had the kind of delicate beauty one associated with fine china, and pretty dolls, and things to be safeguarded. She was the sort of woman a man could easily fall in love with. She was the sort of temptation Abe knew he wasn't supposed to give in to.

And if Speed hadn't come back right then, he could very easily have forgotten that fact long enough to fall.

It was the letter that did it. The moment he spotted that blood red seal, he felt a cold frisson of excitement thrill up his spine. Rather than the hot anticipation one usually felt in these missions, or the cold knot of dread that settled in the stomach like a lead weight, his thrill was cool to the touch- like Henry's skin. That was the feeling- it was as though one of those long elegant pale fingers had ghosted up the line of his back. Abe forced his mind to the task at hand… rather than letting himself dwell on why that was, and why he liked it.

The letter was a cover. On the off chance anyone ever intercepted them, a level of 'plausible deniability' had to be maintained. One did not send assassination orders by post, Abraham, he heard Henry's voice remind him. One sends missives about the weather and the news in town, and the mention of friends who might be located and visits paid- with all due courtesy, of course… and all necessary discretion.

Anyone reading the letter might find it odd that an unwed man was writing to another, describing the weather, and the state of their home, and suggesting a courteous and discrete visit… to yet a third male party. But the idea of arranging illicit liaison was still more palatable than murders of murderers… who were considered upstanding local citizens.

Abe discovered he edited Henry's letters in his mind as he read them, distilling them like a bootlegger chemist to the purest possible form that could be attained in short order. The Dearest always became Dear, and he sought the necessary nuggets of information while still hearing the words in Henry's voice rather than his own.

That night, after the deed was done and he'd managed to get the scent of ash off his clothes and the taste of stale blood out of his mouth, he lay in bed, re-reading Henry's missive by moonlight and trying to read between the lines for an entirely new message.

Dearest Abe,

It's been a long winter here. (Talk of the weather and most social niceties bored Henry to tears, but the ruse still made Abe grin at the mental image of Henry sarcastically commenting in his seductive, dry tone.) There are a few new leaks in the roof. (Abe smiled at the thought of Henry letting his house be anything less than immaculately kept up; the interior might frequently resemble a warzone, but the paint was never flaking and the roof never leaked.)

I trust you are enjoying Springfield (though I long to be there with you.) I've a friend I was hoping you could visit (though I'd much rather you came home to see me instead.) His name is Aaron Stible, Jr.- he has a pharmacy on South Grand. Please show him the utmost courtesy, with the highest level of discretion. (But don't forget- always have a contingency plan. I would hate if anything happened to you.)

And the close was always the same. Abe wondered if it would've been different, what it might be if… well, just if. But the thrill of seeing those words eased the strange ache in his heart a little, and could sustain him until the next orders arrived.

Yours,

Henry

And I, as always, am yours.

A/N: I just want to say the filmmakers are the ones at fault. How can you put a letter like that on a screen that I can access with a pause button and not expect slash-ficcers to come out of the proverbial woodwork? I ask you.

this came along because it just struck me as strange that what Abe hears in his head as he reads Henry's letter (in Henry's voice, I might point out) is different than what is actually written (which you can clearly see when he slams the letter down on his desk when he's preparing to go out.) so I pondered the whys and wherefores and came up with this.

hope you like it. whether you did or not, comments are appreciated.