Oh, Angela was livid. I will never forget the quiet indignation on her face as we walked back into the room, and Henry drank what I assume was his first alcoholic drink in his life.
     I had another cosmopolitan before surrendering my martini glass to Em. I felt the heat on my face every time Angela would catch Henry glancing at me. I brushed it off. She'd had enough to drink herself that she wouldn't remember this in the morning.
     "You know, Kirsten signed for an Andromedon of her own." Angela said to whoever might still be listening. I thought my shock was subtle, but when she saw my face she nodded eagerly. "Yes she did! And he's already been delivered to her house."
     "What's his name?" Henry eagerly asked.
     "Oh, he's named a Korean something or other," she hiccuped, "Jin... Jin Young, I think. Do you know him, my love?"
     Henry cringed noticeably, and Angela giggled at what she perceived as his shyness.
     "I don't know."
     "Did Kirsten choose that name for him?" I ask, "I know a foreign pop star with that name, I wonder if that's where she got it."
     "Of course," she remarked snidely, "They aren't... er... 'born' with names. They have a number or something, I think. Henry's was 'M.' But we already have an Em!" she laughed at her own joke. The rest of us glanced around the room nervously.
     Henry's face worked up a furious, unrelenting blush. He was trying to shrink into the wall next to Em.
     "Are you sure it's alright to be talking about that company so freely? I mean, surely they have trade secrets that they don't want copied," Em was grasping at straws to steer the conversation away from Andromedon LLC. Henry wasn't ready to talk about it himself, I can't imagine hearing about it all the time, as Angela explained to her countless acquaintances about his origins.
     "Oh, darling, when you are there to sign the contracts they will answer anything you ask."
     Em and I exchanged doubtful glances. At that moment we could feel something was fishy about that facility, but we couldn't quite put a finger on it.
     "I think it's time for me to make my way home," I said, yawning, stretching, and heading for the door.
     "Would you like someone to walk you home?" asked Em.
     "I live across the street, I think I will make it," I laughed.
     "Oh, stop being so silly. Do let this strapping young man see you home," Angela playfully nudged Finn. She was a lightweight, and drank more than she ought. Em chortled and insisted she would walk me home, if I just give her a few minutes to get changed. I relented, waiting in one of the wing chairs of the living room.
     Angela's head slumped to one side. A soft snore emanated from her throat. I smiled slightly. She was one to enjoy a celebration, alright.
     Henry strode over quietly, and took me by surprise. "You look tired. If you don't feel like waiting, I would be happy to walk you back to your house."
    Finn nodded in Angela's direction. "I'll look after her until you get back," his chuckle was musical to the ear.
     Henry closed the door quietly. He looped my arm with his, which caught me by surprise. "Thanks for offering to take me home, Henry. Even though I live just across the street."
     He cringed slightly when I said his name. "Why do you do that?"
     "Do what?" we were descending the steps.
     "Cringe when I say your name?"
     We took slow steps across the dead suburban street of our cul-de-sac. He seemed to be meditating on the answer, trying to decide if it was something he really wanted to say.
     "I hate my name."
     I stopped suddenly. He was a pace ahead before he was jerked backwards. I took my arm back. I looked at him earnestly, "Why haven't you told anyone?"
     He looked at the ground, "I don't really have much of a choice."
     "I'm sure Angela would understand if you-"
     "No, I don't think she would. She can see that I am uncomfortable when she talks about the facility that made me, and she does so anyway. I reject all of her advances, both at home and around her friends, and yet she continues-"
     "What do you mean, advances?"
     "When she gets flirtatious, calling me 'babe' and 'darling,' and touches me and..." he covers his face with his hands. 
     My eyes get wide, "You tell her no, don't you?"
     "Yes. Every time, every day. And every time, every day she uses this patronizing tone, assuring me I will come around. You were right, she doesn't see me like a son. She wants-" His voice cracked. My heart broke.
     "Come sit down," we had reached my front walk. I led him up the porch steps, and seated him on my porch swing. I wasn't really thinking. My reflexive comforting skills activated, and I gathered him into my arms like I would Em or Kristen after a breakup. I brushed a few strands of hair out of his face.
     "She wants, she wants, she wants. I don't really care about what she wants," I told him, "I want to know what you want."
     He was gathered into a ball, leaning against my side with his head on my shoulder, forehead touching my neck. I hadn't noticed that he'd put his arms around my waist until he replied, "No one has ever asked me what I wanted."
     My heart was leaping, I felt the sudden rush of endorphins. I was painfully aware of all the points where his body was touching mine. I took a few deep breaths to try and calm myself, but it was too late. It couldn't be stopped. I should have known the minute I saw him, the minute those peridot eyes gazed on me.
     It felt so wrong, but I couldn't help myself. I melted into the moment. I've never felt chemistry with another person that was this genuine. I rested my cheek on his forehead. "Well, I am asking you what you want. Right now, whatever it is."
     He shifted and I felt a small kiss on my cheek.
     "You."