My new rule-2 chapters ahead or no publish! It's hard for me to self discipline. Some unplanned late night writing brought this one home. :) On that note, for those reading "Blue Fish"-it's not dead, just on a little hiatus. I'll get back to it when I return from vacation in a week. It required some soul searching. ;)
Back to the story at hand, thanks so much for the encouraging reviews and reads! Cassiopeia, as I mentioned, Zack's plot isn't secondary but it's also not what you think. His character really starts up in chapter 3. Thanks for reading! Greytune-well, glad you like it so far! I hope I don't disappoint! SFT-Thanks so much! No, used car salesmen techniques do not figure in here; the dark past I'm referring to is something I've already established in my canon. And Andrew is uber slimy. Gag. I hate faux niceness. RT-Can you believe I was able to update? It's a beach-inspired miracle, but don't get used to it. :) I agree Booth doesn't care for Andrew, but he must pretend since the man is his boss. As for progress with Zack, well that will become clear soon enough!
"What do you think that meant?" Bones asked Booth when they were in the hallway approaching the elevator.
"Probably that Sweets had done some stuff in his youth. I dunno, smoked some pot? The FBI background search digs up all kinds of dirt on you," Booth replied.
"It didn't dig up dirt on me when I was cleared to work as a contractor," Brennan declared. She tossed her chocolaty hair.
"Yeah, you're clean as a whistle, Bones," Booth said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Just then, his phone rang. It was Andrew. Booth spoke briefly to Andrew, his brow furrowed and his tone clipped. He then turned to Bones, who didn't ask him to say hi for her. She was lost in thought.
"Bones? We've got an appointment with our new therapist this afternoon at one. Just what we need. Another shrink in our lives."
Brennan concurred, "I hate psychology. But I like Sweets. If I'm going to have to put up with someone drawing ludicrous conclusions from my every glance, I'd rather it be him."
"Yeah, me too," Booth agreed. Then eying her devilishly as they boarded the elevator he asked, "So you've really never smoked pot?"
Bones looked at Booth. "I've never wanted to surrender control of my faculties—exchange reasoning and logic for…the munches."
"Munchies, Bones. The munchies. Where did you hear about that?" Booth was thoroughly amused.
"Hodgins."
"Of course." Booth shook his head.
The day had gotten worse and worse for Lance. First he had basically been forbidden to see Booth and Brennan, and now he had just gotten off the phone with the McKinley Psychiatric Hospital. Zack had gotten into some kind of altercation with the staff. Sweets had been seeing less of his patient lately, because he found that he was overburdened at the FBI. He'd split his role as Zack's therapist with a psychiatrist at the institution. Lance knew the psychiatrist—Dr. Harper—had recently begun medicating Zack and that Zack was not happy about this. It would fall to Sweets to address the growing rift between Zack and Dr. Harper, but the unpleasant task kept getting pushed down Sweets' to-do list. Now the situation had come to a head. He should never have let things get so far.
Sweets was furiously typing up an unrelated FBI report on his computer so he could zip over to the hospital and manage the Zack situation. All of a sudden, he heard several bodies crash through his office door. Damnit, he did not want to look up. He just had two more sentences. Just two more…
"Sweets, you would not believe this Karl Jode guy! What a tool! I refuse to see him again. He told me that bullying him would have no affect on him and that Bones was behaving like a robot!"
Whereas bullying does have an effect on me, right? Lance thought. He had gazed over his shoulder briefly and then returned to typing.
"His bedside manner was most unpleasant," Bones concurred.
Sweets glanced again and saw that they had sat down upon his couch. They were insufferable, Lance thought, but he had to admit that he was a bit pleased that they hated their new therapist.
Sweets replied, "Sorry you didn't like him. But it takes time to develop a comfortable rhythm between therapist and patient. You didn't care for me at first either, right." It wasn't really a question. Lance looked back at his report with resumed determination.
"Sweets, if we're going to get therapy, we want you! Why don't you demand to have us back!" Booth continued energetically. Brennan was actually nodding.
Lance stopped typing and turned fully around to face the duo. "You want me to fight for you?" Lance laughed almost manically, thinking of his conversation with Booth long ago when he had thought Daisy had been cheating on him. He'd asked Booth if he should fight for Daisy. This was a strange twist on that situation.
Booth and Bones both started talking at once, relaying bits of what Karl had told them, and finally an exasperated Lance had to interrupt them.
"Guys! I'll give you therapy to recover from your therapy later. I have a situation I have to deal with right now." He typed the last two words of his report and prepared to send the file in an email.
He heard his friends protesting behind him. He pressed send, swiveled around, and hopped out of his seat.
"Look, I'll talk to Andrew tomorrow. In fact, Agent Booth, it wouldn't hurt if you talked to him first. But like I said, there's a problem that I absolutely must attend to. It involves, Zack," he added desperately, hoping this would convince at least Brennan to release him. Perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned Zack, because suddenly the anthropologist looked defiant.
"Zack? What's wrong? I'm coming with you!"
Lance's jaw dropped open in protest.
"Yeah, Sweets. C'mon we'll take you over there," Booth added, seeing that his partner was in distress.
"No, you will not! Zack's my patient—he's your friend, and you have not arranged for a visitation."
Lance wondered if this was some misguided guilt on Brennan's part. She hadn't been to see Zack in months. Lance thought perhaps the anticipation and actual event of the Gravedigger case had stirred up uncomfortable feelings for Dr. Brennan regarding her former student. How must it have felt to have her guidance substituted out for a cannibal's? Sweets shivered at the thought.
Certainly she felt guilty, whether she admitted it or not. Hell, Lance felt guilty about the Gormogon situation. Somehow his own enthusiasm for this early profile had gotten out of hand enough to convince several of the Jeffersonian team that he and not Zack had allied with the Master. Gormogon had gotten so far underneath everyone's skin that Lance felt that no one would ever quite recover even if Zack were eventually released. He tried to take solace in the fact that at least Heather Taffet, their second major serial killer, was behind bars. For the time being…
"Booth, I need to see Zack," Bones demanded, pulling on her partner's arm, almost like a little girl who had discovered the toy she had to have. Sweets felt terrible for her. And her desperation was enough for Booth.
"We're coming, Sweets. Now let's go!" The agent put his hand on Sweets' shoulder and tried to will him toward the door.
Lance shook his head. He was fed up with everyone today.
