Author's Note: So sorry for the long delat, but thanks to everyone for your reviews and patience. I'm really trying, but finals are this week. It'll be better when I'm out for winter break. Anyhoo, here's the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy it! Be sure to let me know!

Chapter Seven: Crane

It was like an electric shock surged through his body as Jonathan hastily scrambled back away from where Heather lay on his couch. He sprang to his feet and backed up until he was pressed completely flat against the wall. He stared at Heather, whose eyes were wide like a deer's and mirrored his own surprise at what had just occurred. He was mentally fighting his physical reaction to the feeling of having her body against his own and her lips…

"Dr. Crane…" Heather started.

"No." Jonathan said.

"But I wanted to…"

"Now is not the best time for you to be speaking."

"But, if I don't speak I can't apologize."

"For?"

"For what I've just done. I don't know why I did it. I…"

"Ms. Herst," the coldness in his tone surprised even him, "leave."

"But Dr. Crane…"

"Leave now."

"Someone has to take me back to my cell…"

"Just go."

Heather audibly swallowed before slowly sitting up, putting her feet on the floor, and standing up. She then walked out of the office, very cautiously, keeping her eyes locked on him as though she thought that he would suddenly leap out and attack her. Even then she didn't seem afraid, just…alert. As soon as she was through the door, Jonathan released a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding. The tension drained out of the office as soon as she was gone, but he could feel it creeping into his shoulders. He pulled his glasses from his nose and slung them onto his desk before crushing the bridge of his nose between both hands. What the hell had just happened? Had she really just kissed him? The fire that was burning between his legs told him that it had really just happened?

He squeezed his eyes closed as tight as he could and Heather's face immediately came flooding into his mind. His eyes shot open and, in a fury, he grabbed a paperweight from his desk and flung it across the room. He did not want her image stuck in his head! He did not want to still be able to smell her scent in his office! He did not want the feeling of her lips to still be lingering on his own! He plopped down in his chair and tried to retrace the steps and figure out exactly how that entire scenario had just occurred. That girl! That girl knew how to push his buttons like no one he had ever met before! How had she developed that talent? How could she just read through him to see what would get to him? Nobody could do that. He was above that sort of thing. A fresh wave of anger surged through him and he jolted out of his seat with such a force that it flew backward into the wall. That was when a whole new barrage of questions overtook him.

Why had she kissed him? What had made her want to do that? Perhaps that's what she going to explain before he threw her out of his office. His hands went involuntarily into his hair, his fingers massaging his scalp as he tried to slow his mind to the rate of coherent thoughts. What was that feeling that had stirred in his stomach the moment her lips had touched his? It was warm and painful and pleasant all at the same time. Had it been desire? If he could just figure this girl out, would it make everything better? Would it make all these hateful feelings of lust and want go away?

Maybe he should just take her. Just march down to her cell, throw her down on her own cot and take what it was that his body so obviously wanted.

No!

No he couldn't give in to something a weakening as the desires of the flesh. He was above that. He was stronger than most men. He could control his baser impulses. But her lips…her lips had been so incredibly soft…and her skin looked so smooth…like milk. Just thinking about it made him want to touch her. He struggled to swallow the lump that had just sprung up in his throat as he fought to suppress the image of her splayed out on his sofa. Little beads of sweat had started to form on his forehead and slide down into his eyes, stinging them and causing him to blink furiously. He wiped the back of his hand over his eyes and looked over at his office wall. With a shuddering breath he reached beneath his desk for the familiar little button and a few seconds later, the flat screen appeared before him. The screen flickered on at just the right moment for him to witness Simon shove Heather into her room and shut the door behind him. Heather was staring at him with narrowed eyes, and Jonathan could tell that she was pissed off. He watched Simon advance on her. Heather ducked out of the way just as the orderly reached for her, but he just chased her around the room.

Something snapped to attention inside of Jonathan and he realized just what was about to happen. Without thinking, he flew from the office and down the stairs at a dead sprint. He reached her door and peered in through the little window at the top of the door to see that Simon had Heather pinned by the throat to the wall with one hand while the other was reaching for his belt buckle. She was trying to kick at him, but he had worked his way in between her legs, so she had resigned to trying to claw at his face. But her struggling was visibly growing weaker and weaker at her lack of oxygen. Jonathan burst through the door, his ice blue eyes narrowed and focused on Simon, who flew back away from Heather. As soon as he had released her, Heather slid coughing down the wall to the floor.

"Dr. Crane, I…" Simon started.

"I don't want to hear it." Jonathan snapped, his eyes scanning over Heather's form. She had her knees pulled to her chest and was massaging her throat with one hand and fighting to keep her eyes open. He turned back to Simon. "

"Dr. Crane, I can explain." Simon said.

"I'm really not interested." Jonathan said, taking his trademark stance, shoulders squared, back straight, hands clasped together behind him, "The asylum will no longer be requiring your services, sir. You may take the time to gather your belongings, then vacate the premises immediately."

Simon looked from him to Heather, then back again before turning on his heel and stomping out of the room in a huff. As soon as Simon was gone, Jonathan turned and went to Heather, kneeling down by her side. "Are you all right, Heather?" he asked.

"So, my knight has returned, huh?" she said, a faint smile appearing on her lips.

"You're in my care. I can't very well sit back and let anything happen to you." Jonathan defended his actions.

"Doc," Heather said, looking up at him with those big shining pretty eyes of hers, "you ain't wearin' your glasses."

"What?" Jonathan blinked. The observation caught him off guard and he realized that he had rushed out of the office so quickly that he hadn't even thought about his glasses which were still lying safely on his desk. Again, this little scrap of a girl had managed to cause him to start coming undone.

"Your glasses. You're not wearin' them." Heather repeated.

"My eyes felt strained.

"You're sweating…like you been runnin'."

Her eyes searched his face, looking for answers. Then, her gaze dropped to the floor, her eyes darting back and forth, from side to side. He could almost hear her mind putting the pieces of the puzzle together. All at once, she looked back up at him. "Wait! Did you know what was going on in here?"

"If you're certain that you're all right, Ms. Herst, I have some work to attend to." Jonathan said quickly, getting to his feet.

"No, I am not certain that I'm all right and DON'T call me Ms. Herst!" Heather screamed, standing up as well. "My name is Heather."

"I'll have the physician come in to make sure that Simon didn't do any permanent damage."

"God, that's not what I'm talking about. I've dealt with pricks like your orderly my entire life. I can handle it." Heather said.

"Then I'm not sure what you mean." Jonathan said, more tension creeping up the back of his neck as he looked at her. She was staring at him with such intensity and fire, he couldn't help notice how her nose had scrunched up in this adorable way. He shook the thought away as soon as it entered his head.

"Can you see me?" she asked.

"Of course I can, Heather."

"Not right now, you jackass." Heather hissed, "Can you see me when you're in your office? Doc, are you spying on me?"

"Now you're being paranoid." Jonathan said calmly. Inside, he was amazed at how clever this girl was. "Excuse me." He said and left the room before she had the chance to fire out another accusation.

He hurried back up to his office and immediately went to his desk and slid his glasses back onto his nose. He looked over at the television screen which he had never turned off when he ran out of the office to get to Heather. Heather was standing in the center of her room staring directly into the camera. He felt like she was staring straight at him. There scowl on her face melted into the brightest smile he had ever seen as she held up one arm and flipped him off.

Author's Note: Don't forget to tell me what you thought!