Patients and Patience
Word Count: 1,827
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nico/Dani (could probably be considered just friendship, though)
Spoilers: up to 1x05.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I just break things.
Summary: There are patients. There are things that require patience. Then there are patients that take patience.
Author's Note: I was doing this for the challenge on the livejournal community. I had a couple different ideas, and this is the one that came out first.

Patients and Patience

"Dr. Santino?"

Dani lowered the phone to her chest, trying to keep some semblance of control as her son bounced away from the conversation they were supposed to be having. First the phone, then the door, and now she had lost Ray Jay and all track of what was going on. "I'll be with you in a minute if you'll have a bit of patience."

She didn't really think that was going to happen, given the way that he'd pounded on her door until she answered it. Still, she needed a second.

"You're with a patient? Very well. I'll wait."

Dani shook her head. Someone needed a hearing aid. She had said patience, not patients. She didn't actually have anyone in her office, but she wanted to say she did. Who did this person think he was, barging in like this? Sure, her house was really no stranger to uninvited guests, especially after she started working with the Hawks. Between TK and Nico, she may as well leave her doors open for anyone off the street to walk in.

"No, I'm not with a patient. I'm on the phone, and I need to speak to my son."

"Oh, your son's on the phone. I see. Yes, finish your conversation, please."

Dani sighed, picking the phone back up. "Can I help you?"

"Bad time?" Nico asked, and she sighed. If he was calling, there was something that she had to do right now for the Hawks, and she did not have time for this.

"In the middle of a fight with Ray Jay and someone just showed up at my door—"

"Older man, white hair, overgrown mustache?"

She looked back at her guest. "Yes."

"Figures that's where he ended up. I'll take him off your hands in fifteen minutes."

"What? Wait, Nico, who is he?" she asked, but he'd already hung up. She looked down at the phone and shook her head with a curse. Fortunately, the other man was still deaf and didn't seem to have heard her. She forced a smile. "How can I help you?"

"Came to see you."

"Yes, of course," she agreed, ushering him into the other room. "Have a seat and tell me what brought you to my door."

"You."

"Okay," she said, nodding, feeling her own patience wearing very thin. She took a deep breath, trying to center herself. "What about me brings you to my door?"

"My son."

"Your son. And he would be...?"

"Needed to see the woman he's going to marry. Had to make sure it was a woman. Kept saying Danny, and Danny's not a name for a woman."

She gritted her teeth. "It's short for Danielle, and I am not about to marry anyone. I haven't even finalized my divorce. I know you're not Ray's father, so who is your son?"

The man didn't seem to have heard her at all. She grimaced. Nico had better be here in his usual "fifteen" minutes, which was actually under ten. She didn't know how he managed it, and she suspected that he broke several vehicular laws when he did it, but he never did when she was in the car with him, so she couldn't say for sure.

Was this Mr. Donnally? Matt's father? Was that it? Was that why he thought that she was going to marry his son? She hated to disappoint him, but that wasn't going to happen. The old man sat, staring out at the window and muttering to himself. She tried a couple more times to get through to him, even calling him by what she thought was his name, but he didn't respond.

Not a moment too soon, the doorbell rang, and she got up, leaving the old man on the couch while she ran to get it. She opened it up to Nico with relief. "He's in there."

Nico nodded, moving into the room. She followed after him. "Who is he?"

"You're late," the older man said, pointing an accusing finger at Nico. "Your mother was worried."

Nico's eyes flickered with something that Dani couldn't quite get a read on, but she couldn't help being intrigued. This was Nico's father? Really? "I know. It's time to go back now."

The old man made a face. "No. I hate that place. It smells."

"Yes, it does," Nico said, sounding a bit tired. "Still, that is where you live now."

"She's not there."

"No, she isn't."

"I got lost."

"Yes, you did."

The old man looked rather upset. He studied the room in confusion. "Where are we?"

"The home of a woman I work with. Dani. Remember, I told you about her, about how she's helping the players on the team?" Nico asked gently, displaying more patience than Dani would have expected under the circumstances. "She's helped the Hawks a lot."

"A friend of the Hawks is a friend of mine," the old man said, holding out his hand to Dani. Nico gave her a look, and she shook it. "Doug Dewar, coach."

"Not... father?"

Nico shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, but you haven't met the patriarch of my family."

"I suppose if I did, you'd have to kill me?"

"He could do it, too. His father trained him good," Dewar said, seeming more lucid. "Known this one since he was just a gleam in his father's eye."

Nico gave a slight smile and put an arm under the older man's shoulder, helping him to his feet. She moved to help them, but Dewar held up a hand. "No need for that, Miss. I'm in good hands. Should have seen this guy in the trenches. No better man in a fight. Had your back. Best marine I ever knew."

"SEAL," she said, and Dewar shot her a sharp look. Nico nodded to her correction, and she figured Dewar had gotten Nico confused with someone else again. She shook her head. That was severe dementia, possibly Alzheimer's. No wonder he was in a place he hated that smelled. She watched Nico walk the other man to the car and buckle him in, biting her lip.

She hoped her children took care of her like that if she ever developed dementia. Children. Right. That reminded her. "Ray Jay!"

Dani knocked on the door, leaning into Nico's office. He looked up at her, gesturing to the seat as he turned behind him to grab something from the cabinet. He handed her the file, and she blinked in surprise. "What's this?"

"Dewar's file."

"Are you giving me privileged information?"

"You know, I assume, that I was very skeptical about your ability to be of any assistance to TK when you were first hired," Nico said, avoiding her question. She frowned, looking at the file like it might bite her. "Dewar is why. Your profession would seem to have failed him."

"There is a limit to what can be done to assist a person in his condition. Alzheimer's is degenerative. Dementia, too, can only be managed. Periods of lucidity with periods of—"

"He doesn't have dementia or Alzheimer's."

She frowned. "Has he seen a neurologist? That kind of mental confusion—he thought he was coming to meet the woman who was going to marry his son at first. Then he seemed to think that you were his son. Then he thought you were someone else. All in the space of five minutes. I haven't seen a case like that wasn't either severe dementia or recent trauma."

"The neurologist says he is fine. That would seem to agree with his prolonged periods of lucidity. Sometimes they last for months, even as much as a year, and he tries to come back to work again, just as an assistant. Then it all falls apart again. Does that sound like dementia to you?"

She had to admit, it didn't. It sounded a lot more like a panic disorder. A very, very severe one, causing a dissociative state. She shook her head. "That's something that's beyond my training. I've never handled a case like that before."

"You never handled athletes before, did you?"

She sighed. "No. Did you tell him that I could help him?"

Nico shook his head. "I know better than to make promises. I told him about the work you did. He must have seen the address on my desk. The doctor at the home says it's best when he's in a familiar place, and the Hawks locker room is that for him. It's a delicate balance for him, being here. It either helps or it sets him off."

"And it set him off yesterday?"

Nico rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Fight between a couple of players. Donnally and I were breaking it up when Dewar disappeared."

She nodded, then stood. "I can interview him when he's more lucid, but if he does have a severe panic disorder, then he will need a change in his medication, and that is something I am not licensed to do. It will take cooperation from his doctors."

"If you think that the change is necessary, I can handle his doctors."

"Nico, I don't want you to threaten them into agreeing with my assessment."

"You assume that I have to threaten them. I don't. The doctors know me. They value my judgment on his condition."

"Oh," she whispered. Why did she always assume that he strong-armed everyone? He wasn't a mafia hit man or anything, though sometimes she thought he could pass for one. "So, of the people Dewar confused you with, which are you closest to?"

"He actually had me for a while."

"But you're not going to say which one, are you?"

Nico smiled at her. "I think if you went over it, you'd know."

"Well, I know you're not his son. And I'm not going to marry you."

Nico just looked at her, and she felt a bit weird, a strange flutter in her stomach. That look almost seemed like... a challenge.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "I did want to say how I admired your patience with him. It... didn't seem quite your usual style."

"On the contrary, Dr. Santino, I can be very patient," Nico told her with a smile. That look, too, that was a... warning? A threat? "Our careers require a certain degree of adaptability, after all. Patience is—"

"A virtue?"

He shook his head. "A tool."

"A tool. You have a very skewed vision of the world, Nico."

"But a patient one."