A/N: Post-Episode 1.11 "Breach" when Hetty forced Nate to take a week off. I had forgotten all about his thing with the medical examiner when I started working on this, so you can read the other chapters as later on down the road or as AU...or however you like :-)
Enjoy!
I tried so very hard not to lose it
I came up with a million excuses
I thought, I thought of every possibility
—Michael Bublé, Haven't Met You Yet
Vacation was supposed to be relaxing, fun even. It was time off of work where you could indulge in hobbies and activities you normally didn't have time for, sleep late in the mornings, and catch up on your television watching.
For Nate, vacation was none of those things. It was, instead, a time where he was devoid of his life's work, bereft of meaningful ways to spend his time. He saw his week of forced leave spread out before him like a long stretch of country road, empty as far as the eye could see. He was miserable at the mere prospect of gazing down that road, anxious about what he was going to do, how he'd be able to look himself in the mirror each day after accomplishing nothing.
But he was more afraid of Hetty than he was of seven vacant days.
So he gamely tried to pass the time cleaning out closets, flipping through TV channels, even grocery shopping. He paid bills, rearranged his living room furniture—then moved it all back again—and called his mom. Finding a stack of back issues of American Journal of Forensic Psychology on the third day saved his sanity; at least then he could put his mind to good use, perhaps learn something new. He told himself it wasn't work, that even if Hetty found out he was reading professional journals on his off time she wouldn't be upset—at least they weren't comic books…ahem, graphic novels. And it was his vacation time, he could spend it any way he wanted to.
To ease his conscience, though, Nate took a couple of the issues to a park and set himself up on a bench in the shade. Halfway through the first article he noticed his backside becoming sore from the hard aluminum slats and tried shifting positions, curling a leg underneath himself. Ten minutes later his foot went numb and he shifted again. A gentle breeze rustled the trees around him, crawling over his bare arms and raising goosebumps across his chilled skin. He shivered, raking his hands over his arms and rolling down his sleeves as he shifted positions again, trying to get comfortable. His eyes found the article again and resumed reading, only to be interrupted by the growling of his stomach and the realization that he hadn't brought any snacks with him on his jaunt.
Frustrated, Nate grabbed his journals and stalked back to his car.
The next day his conscience, sounding much like Hetty, poked him in the ribs and insisted that he didn't try hard enough to enjoy himself at the park, practically shoving him out the door to try again. He gave in, choosing a different locale this time, picking a spot on one of the multitude of beaches in the area and toting a messenger bag full of goodies: munchies, drinks, a sweatshirt, a seat cushion, and a pair of sunglasses. Scanning the area, he picked a spot that looked conducive to both reading and people watching, and tried to make himself comfortable.
The bright California sun shone down on Nate's shoulders making the light breeze feel refreshing instead of arctic. And the seat cushion had been a wise choice. Flipping through a volume of the AJFP, he hunted down the article he'd begun reading at the park and, his body more at ease this time, allowed his mind to sink into the science. When he got hungry he rummaged around in his bag for something to eat, when the sun became too bright he produced the sunglasses. When he got bored or frustrated with the journal, he let his eyes wander over the beachgoers and dog-walkers and tourists, studying them in a more casual way than he ever could his colleagues. By the time he realized the sun was sinking toward the horizon he had been sitting there at the beach for several uninterrupted hours, the tension and stress of his job and compulsory vacation faded, the fun he used to find in psychology returned to his life. As he re-packed his messenger bag to go, he decided that maybe Hetty had been right in mandating his time off.
And he vowed never to tell her.
