A/N: I came thisclose to calling this "Ria-valuate." Admit it—you think it's funny. :) Okay, fine, you don't have to laugh.

Torres isn't my favorite character—far from it, but I kind of feel bad for her sometimes. Working with Lightman and Foster has to be intimidating, and they haven't given her nearly enough to do recently. And then of course, her awesome boyfriend just disappears! (Has anyone written a story explaining that yet?) So, to try something new, I wrote through her eyes.

On a side note, is anyone else having trouble uploading documents?

Disclaimer: I don't own any television shows. Not one.

Bottoms Up

"I'll never belong here.

"They called me a natural. They said that I was perfect for their little world, so they plucked me out of mine. They promised so many things, I should have known that all of them wouldn't come true, but I saw that suitcase full of cash and—well—the next thing I knew, I was in a room where some nerd was telling me how good he thought I'd be in bed. In high school, I used to have my boyfriend beat those guys up for me. When I was working for TSA, they gave me a badge so I could do it myself.

"He still doesn't get it. He doesn't think that being a TSA agent could have been the best thing that happened to me. He should know better, after all, wasn't it my record that brought him to my line in the first place? Seven times the arrests, ninety-seven percent on the TSA's deception diagnostic—it looks good on a résumé, but all Lightman sees is how that can work for him. He never considers that having this 'gift' meant that I was at the top of my game, and that no one could touch me. I was a miracle-worker.

"Now, I'm always one step behind the pack, running after them with a cup of coffee or a status report. Once, Lightman said that I only made the tea around here, and I might like it better if I did. They're all certified geniuses, and I'm the one that sits here and watches them swap story after story about MIT, or Duke, or whatever. What am I supposed to add, the stint I had flipping burgers, or how I made money in high school giving rides to Planned Parenthood? So I say nothing at all, and they never ask. We have rules against that here.

"I shouldn't complain. I make so much more than I ever thought I would, and I get to buy these clothes—much better than that uniform I used to put on. I've got a nice car, a nice place, and my own office. No one from my neighborhood ever got this far.

"It's just, at the beginning, she used to come in and give me this high-and-mighty pep talk about all the good I was going to do and how I important I was going to be. It's been a year now, and I spent the last few cases babysitting terrorists and getting cut down by federal judges. I don't need that. She doesn't give up, though. She's just so sheltered, she ignores everything that doesn't fit in her perfect world. If she had any idea how hard I've had it . . . she doesn't know what kind of choices I've had to make. She lies to me, lies for him, and when I catch it, she looks at me like a sad puppy and says, 'Ria, I'm so sorry.'

"'I'm so sorry that I kept you from knowing that the one decent guy you managed to hold onto is dying somewhere, all alone. I'm sorry that I put you into a position where even he stops trusting you, because you see too much. I'm sorry that Lightman used you again.' I think the worst part is how she means it. It's like, you want to hate her, but you can't. She's too nice. Even when she's screwing you over under orders from the puppet master, she's just so nice about it.

"I mean, they both said that my future is supposed to be so bright here, that I'm going to be as good as Lightman is, but how can I do that when I don't have the degrees they do? The world sees Dr. Lightman and Dr. Foster as these great scientific minds, or whatever, but I'm still just Miss Torres. I know that eventually I'm going to have to go to school, and it's gonna take forever, and I'm going to be so far out of my league that everyone will see me for what I really am: a nobody. I don't belong here with these people. I never will."

Ria took one last, big gulp of vodka and set the empty bottle into Ben's waiting hands.

"You know what I think?" He threw the bottle in the trash and offered to help her stand up. "I think you've had a little too much to drink. You're gonna wake up tomorrow, hung over, and you're going to feel real silly about all of this."

He helped her to the elevator, then outside and into a cab. He couldn't help but smile a little as he watched her drive away. It was nice to know that he wasn't the only one.

THE END

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