"Reese, how long has it been since you've had a break?" the director of the bureau asked.

Reese sat across the director's desk, wishing he were anywhere but there. The dark wood accents of the room seemed confining, and he caught himself looking through the blinds. The few hours of sleep he got weren't enough, and his mind of uncharacteristically preoccupied. He took a moment to push the hair away from his face.

"I just had my days off last Tuesday and Wednesday, sir, "Reese responded.

"That's not what I meant," Director Burns responded. Director Burns shifted his considerable weight in the chair. His suits had recently become a little too small, and it made him a bit uncomfortable. "You need a real break. In addition to the upcoming holiday. Honestly, I'm worried about you," he admitted.

Reese didn't know how to take his bosses concern. He was touched, but immediately worried that his boss thought that he may not be able to do his job. "Sir, I can assure you…." Reese started.

"Son, you're a fine agent," Director Burns interrupted. "I just want to make sure that you stay that way." Reese nodded in acknowledgement, but said nothing additional. "I'm just asking you to take a week. Yes, it will seem like a lifetime, but you'll be much more refreshed when you get back. Ready to get to work," the old man encouraged.

The last thing that Reese wanted to do was to take a break. Any momentum he may have gained in his cases would be lost in that week. The unfinished nature of his work, all of the unsubs that they didn't catch, had begun to weigh heavily on him. A week off of work seemed like it would only add to his anxiety. Still, he hesitantly accepted his fate and began his week off by trying to get some much needed sleep.

When Genevieve awoke the next morning, she hoped that she would feel better, but didn't have any such luck. It took a moment before she could really feel anything. So much of her felt empty, at first, that she only laid there like a shell of what used to be a person. Part of her wished that she hadn't woken at all, and she began to burst into tears when she realized that she was awake. Genevieve got up fairly quickly, however. If she lingered in bed, she imagined that she would just liquefy and become one with her bed and never get up again. She dare not even sit. Genevieve willed her limbs into the shower and forced herself to shower and dress immediately. She had to keep moving and thought that it was safest for her to continue with her usual routine and go for a run.

In the middle of her run, the music that Genevieve was listening to was interrupted by a text. She came to a confused stop to see who in the world would be texting her. A text message from Reese appeared.

With insomnia not allowing Reese to get any sleep, he had texted Genevieve and asked her to join him at the local bookstore. They had coffee and books, and felt that was the best type of relaxation. He had also been anxious about leaving Genevieve the night before. Reese knew that she wouldn't have jumped. Statistically, it's not very likely that women kill themselves by jumping off a bridge. By the time she left, she seemed to have a lot of clarity and that was a good sign. There was something genuine in her sadness that troubled him, however, and Reese needed to make sure that she was ok.

He lingered at one of the front tables, looking at various books, and anxiously waited for her arrival. Although she said she would come, Reese remained slightly skeptical. An audible sigh of relieve emitted his lips when he noticed a curvy, auburn haired girl walk in. While she wasn't dressed provocatively, he couldn't help but notice her seductively wide hips that made her jeans fit a little loose around her waist. Her breasts filled out the t-shirt she was wearing, which only accentuated her hour glass figure.

The young woman looked towards him, her green eyes lit up slightly. Noticing the book he had in his hands, Genevieve said, "I watch the t.v. show, but I haven't read any of the books."

"There is a whole series that takes place before the Time War in Gallifrey…" Reese began to exuberantly explain the Doctor Who series. He brought his summary to an end, hoping that he didn't scare her off. She just stood, smiling at his excitement.

She longed to be that excited about anything. Genevieve remembered being that passionate about things. Obsessive about things. Things that once brought her joy seemed so hallow somehow. It made her heart ache a bit.

Reese's eyes drifted to the woman's pronounced collarbones, and imagined his lips drifting across them and towards her neck. Quickly, he recovered an asked, "Can I buy you a coffee?"

The young girl blushed a bit, and Reese thought it may have something to do with the way that he was looking at her. She hesitated, and he thought for sure that she would decline. "Um…I… ok. Yeah," she finally answered. Genevieve had picked up a bottled tea drink instead of a coffee.

"So, Genevieve, what do you do? Are you a student?" he asked as they made their way to the café.

She was slightly amused that he thought she was a student. "I'm a professor actually," she responded with a frown. The two sat with their beverages. Reese noticed how Genevieve turned the tea bottle in her hand, peeling the label in a slight but very particular manner. Each section that she peeled had to be just so before moving on to the next section. Reese could only assume she had some sort of mild OCD or anxiety-driven compulsion. His assumption was confirmed as he continued to analyze her. Her clothing was well fitted, and her hair was neatly affixed. Her nails were acrylic, and Reese felt that is was safe to assume she got her nails done not just for ascetics, but because she could probably chew her fingernails off if she didn't.

Genevieve caught him staring at her, and sat back. Noticing her body language, Reese quickly continued the conversation, hoping he hadn't made her feel uncomfortable. "What do you teach?" he inquired.

"Literature," Genevieve answered. "What do you do for the FBI? You don't really look like an FBI agent."

Reese paused, not sure if he should tell her what he did for a living. "I'm… a statistician," he finally said. It wasn't a complete lie as one of his Masters degrees was in mathematics.

Genevieve seemed a bit skeptical and asked, "So you work on top secret stuff?" Genevieve mused.

Reese smiled to himself, and said, "Something like that."

"How does one get a job in the Government? Is that something you always wanted to do?" she inquired, her green eyes sparkling.

"I was recruited out of college," Reese explained. "I have four Bachelor degrees, two Masters degrees and two Doctorate degrees. And speak English, French, Spanish, Italian and Russian," he answered.

Blinking at him, Genevieve asked, "Is that all?"

Looking up at her from his coffee, Reese said, "Well, I just learned German yesterday, but I don't feel like I've acquired enough to say I'm very fluent."

It was quite humorous to Genevieve how casually he said that he learned an entire language in one day. Genevieve's IQ was in the higher range at 128, but she couldn't imagine what someone like him went through from day to day. "What's it like?" she asked him softly.

Looking confused, Reese asked, "What is what like?"

"What's it like being you and having to live among us mere mortals?" Genevieve asked with a smirk. Embarrassed, Reese blushed. "Don't do that," she said. "Don't be embarrassed or ashamed. And don't let anyone make you feel that you should be."

Reese looked up at the woman sitting across from him, and was utterly transfixed. Genevieve bit her lip, wondering what he was thinking. "Well, I should get going," she explained.

As if this woman wasn't smart and pretty and witty enough. With everything that Reese had seen, he relished Genevieve's nurturing and compassion. "Let me buy you your book," Reese said quickly as he reached for her book.

"You really don't have to…" she began.

"I insist," he argued as the two made their way to the cashier. "I just… wanted to make you

happy." A blush formed across Genevieve's cheeks and nose. She mumbled quick thanks while examining the floor. "Are you feeling any better? Did you sleep?" Reese inquired.

"Yeah," Genevieve lied as easily as she always had. As a profiler, Reese knew better, but said nothing.