Shrink

13

It seemed Death was being generous this week, as no new hard-hitting cases had rolled into town. I spent most, if not all of my time in limbo, trying to solve more cases of the unknown dead.
It was nice, being alone with the bins of scant evidence. It was like picking a hard Sudoku. Patience and persistence were key.
Patterns rarely occurred, but I found checking some things right away helped to speed up my job. By Friday, I had completed about thirty cases, and Doctor Brennan had nothing to complain about. I wasn't her star pupil, but neither was I her worst failure.
I took my lunches sparingly, usually just grazing when I had to run to the washroom. This project had engrossed me so to the point of very little sleep, food or self care. Needless to say, I didn't care.
I found myself rubbing my eyes for the millionth time that Wednesday...or was it Thursday? I'd lost track since staying overnight a few times in a row, napping during my lunch breaks.
I'd also taken to humming to fill up the empty air that seemed to hang like a silent veil over the whole room, dispersing some of the gloom.
I was humming some Imagine Dragons, when I heard someone clear their throat.
I spun on my heels, stumbling forward slightly on my wobbly legs, and nearly tumbled into Sweets.
He caught me, and helped me to regain my footing as I murmured excuses of clumsiness.
His black tie was impeccably centred on his chest, and his jacket was crisply ironed.
"Hello, Papillon," Sweets greeted, and I almost choked before realizing I gave him the right to call me that the night he played piano for me.
"Hello Doctor Sweets," I responded formally, attempting to soothe my dreadful mop of unkept hair. "can I help you?"
"I just came back from court," he said simply, and I noticed the way his demeanour became slightly more relaxed as the irritation became evident.
"Long day?" I asked. "Wait, what time is it?"
Had it even been a day?
"It was long, but we won," he sighed. "defence took the hard way. But what I find most unbelievable is to come back to the lab and you're nowhere in sight."
He was looking for me?
Rather than asking me how many I'd solved, (I'd lost track after 53), he crossed his arms and said sternly, "when was the last time you slept?"
"Twenty minutes ago," I replied indignantly.
Who was he to question me like that? I could take care of myself!
"Naps don't count, Papillon," Sweets countered, and I frowned. "you've been bleeding yourself dry, for what? To solve more cold cases than hot ones? You're going at this all wrong."
"Going at what?" I shot back, ignoring his jab at my ego.
I raised my voice enough that I could hear the disused rasp of it in the wavering pitch it took on. When was the last time I'd talked to a living person?
"This work! You've been hiding away with your bones just to prove a point! You can't just pretend that the real world doesn't exist Papillon, you have to prove you're worth more than a computer in the back room, processing information for evermore."
I crossed my arms. I hated when people questioned my work.
"I'm doing good work! I'm identifying people that the living in our world are missing and wondering what has happened to them. I'm giving them some modicum of closure!"
Sweets guffawed, and I was ready to attack him at that point.
"They still don't know what's happened! Their loved ones are dead and they don't know why or how, or if their lives are in danger too!"
"You're just mad that I've made more progress in my field in a few weeks than you have in years!"
I had no idea where that outburst came from, but it seemed to hit a nerve as Sweets' resolve flew out the window.
"You think that I'm jealous of an intern! I'm a doctor. And a damn good one, too, I work for the FBI, how much can you say for yourself, Pap? Huh?"
I could feel my blood boiling ever hotter in my veins, heat rising like a cloud into my cheeks.
"You think I care about your frigging psychology? Your stupid made up mojo has been nothing but a pain in my ass since the day I got here. You're just mad you can't evaluate me if I'm nowhere to be found!"
"You've missed all my calls! We were supposed to have another session last week! What am I supposed to tell my superiors, Papillon, that your mental state is dandy and fine, you're just sitting in a room with nothing but bones for days? Is that what you want me to tell them? Because I sure don't want the guilt of getting you to lose your job weighing on me for the rest of my life."
"Oh please," I guffawed in turn, getting in his face. "you don't give a damn about me, Sweets."
"Of course I do! Your mental state is very important to me!"
"As a doctor!"
His arms flew up suddenly.
"Not just as a doctor!" he shouted, and I could suddenly feel the charged tension that was coursing through the room, and I realized how very close I was to Sweets.
We were both breathing heavily, and I could feel his expelled breaths buffeting my face.
Sweets' brown eyes never left mine, his pupils dark and nearly encompassing his whole iris.
I could feel myself floating, and grabbed hold of something, anything, to keep my balance, which just so happened to be Sweets' arms. I could feel a charge of energy pass between us, and something was pulling us closer and closer...
"Ahem."
The electricity snapped and fizzled out.
I pushed myself away from Sweets, as far as conceivably possible, and turned to see Booth standing in the doorway of the room.
His surprise was evident, but it was soon plastered over with a shit-eating grin.
"D-did you need something Booth?" Sweets said, clearing his throat.
"I heard yelling," Booth shrugged. "new case. Pack your stuff, kiddos, we're going to Alaska."