Jungian Archetypes

Chapter 2: The Night has a Thousand Eyes

A/N: Exams and extra credit having been concluded (more or less successfully), I'm all yours once again…so here we go. I promise the crazy dreams will come soon, but after finishing this section, I decided it would be more effective to split them. Also, I kind of ran out of energy. Reviewer shoutouts to follow at long last.

Crane was, as Aemilia had imagined he'd be, precisely on time. Which, as she had reached her decision, was just as well. He arrived without fuss and draped his coat over her squishy chair. Then he took the straight backed chair from her research desk, after removing her stack of unread journals. "Dr. Stuart."

"Dr. Crane."

"It's an extensive syllabus." Jonathan proffered the barest hint of a smile.

"Yes, well, literature is full of archetypal characters. So-"

"What made you pick Jungian analysis instead of Freudian analysis?"

"Jung was better read in the early Western tradition, and he always struck me as less dogmatic." She smiled. "But I didn't choose the course topic. I just agreed to teach it. Now, we should cover some of the details. I take it you've looked over the requirements. We ask them for a paper a month; I assume you'll want to pick some of the topics, and I was thinking we'd just divide up the grading, so I'd grade mine and you grade yours."

Crane seemed to consider the issue for a moment. Then, he said, "No."

"I beg your pardon?"

"We'll both grade each paper and take the average of the two grades."

Aemilia frowned. "That's a little irregular."

Crane did smile then, using what Aemilia supposed he thought was his charm. "I'm aware of that, but surely, someone who's willing to go up against the dean's office so often will be equally willing to do something a trifle unusual. After all, surely you can manage the work."

That stung. "Fine. As long as you think you're up for it, I'm game. I'm supposed to collect some information from you for the University." She passed him a clipboard, with a healthy pile of forms.

"Aemilia is an unusual name."

"I was named for the Elizabethan poet Aemilia Lanier; my parents were some of the few Shakespearians who believed that she must have been the Dark Lady." She paused for a moment. "You're doing some interesting work on the role of the collective unconscious in individual phobias. I wouldn't have expected someone so interested in fear to be such a Jungian."

Crane smiled secretively. "Jung has his uses."

She smiled back and suddenly said, "Shadow or self?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Just pick one."

"Shadow."

"Animus or anima?"

He looked at her askance for a moment. "Anima."

She smiled. "Well, you never know. There are some psychoanalysts who would have you believe that men and women both have both animus and anima."

"Really?" Crane's expression was entirely too bland.

"As I'm sure you know." Aemilia added. "Locke or Hobbes?"

"Hobbes."

"Really? Interesting. Sartre or Camus?"

"Sartre." Crane raised his eyebrows. "What's next, Either or Or? One could advance a decent argument for either one as Kirkegaard's seminal work, although as an English major, I'd imagine you prefer Either."

Aemilia grinned. "Actually," she said airily, "I was working my way up to 'Boxers or briefs?' but I suppose I should save that until at least our second or third meeting."

"Probably. Anyway, I should probably get back to the asylum. I'll see you next Tuesday."

"Right. See you then." She might have unbent a little, but Aemilia still found a way to slip the battered book from her desk into Crane's briefcase as she handed him his coat and bag.

"Thank you." Jonathan made his way to the door, and waited until Aemilia returned her attention to her manuscript.

"Boxers."

She looked up. "Excuse me?"

"Boxers. Always. You asked." And with that, he was gone.

Aemilia grinned to herself. After a moment she picked up the phone and dialed slowly.

"Lanier." She said in response to a question. "'The night has a thousand eyes, the day has but one.'…Yes, I put it into his briefcase…yes, I think he's ready…Anima…Yes, anima before shadow, certainly before self." She smiled. "No, I'll take direct action on this one….Mmmhmmm it should be fun….I know. Goodbye."

She hung up and stared at the phone for a long moment before she quietly packed her bags, turned out her light, locked the office and left the building.

That night Crane dreamed.

A/N: Sorry, I know that's shorter than the last one, but it seemed like the right place to end, and I promise the next chapter will be up soon. All right, to my individual reviewers (whom I adore!):

Blodeuedd: I hope that my influences continue to amuse you. Thanks for your kind words. Look for a bit of Aemilia (Lanier) poetry later on. I think (I hope) you'll like.

Suddenwhim: I'm delighted that you like the title. I'm a huge Jung fan, so when Crane made that comment, I was ready to hug him.

Jonathan: I'm glad you didn't; it would have threatened our patient – analyst relationship. Shall we continue our session?

Author: Actually, since this session is a figment of my imagination and you are currently my animus, an attraction between the animus and self is perfectly healthy. It means that my various energies and strengths will come together to get me where I need to go, so…

Jonathan: looks around wildlyI'm sorry, our time is up. Shoves author out of office.

Nothing and Nowhere: Glad you love it. Am updating at last.

Evil Demandred: Simply sends out waves of love to favorite Batman Begins beta.