alrighty--chapter 4. thanks for the review & to all those who read! its such a wam feeling to check the stats and see the number of people who read, or at least hit the story. anywho, as they say in show buisness "on with the show!"

disclaimer: still, nothing is mine.

Chapter 4: Of what I really am

Douglas Lobell

Jacob J. Pierce

Mary G. Sloane

Evelyn thumbed through the three files. Three severely acute cases of bi-polar disorder. All were on strict medication and counseling schedules, and it was time for a visit from Dr. Crane.

Silently she wondered if she would be accompanying him this time around. She found his handling and the workings of splintered minds to be so fascinating…maybe only because her mind was not without its splinters. She sighed softly before her gaze suddenly narrowed. The drop box next to his office was crooked on the wall. It had not been that way earlier. And there was no way to straighten it out.

She stepped back, catching herself obsessing, and fought back her compulsion to pace the floor. It wasn't hard to drop three files in a lopsided box…it really wasn't. Or so she kept telling herself. But still her mind wouldn't let it go.

"Evelyn—stop," she hissed under her breath, "you can do this." Over the years, she'd found talking aloud the best remedy for overcoming the oddities of obsessing. She clamped her eyes shut, taking a deep breath as she reached a hand out and dropped the files quickly into the box before rushing back to her office.

Once the door closed, she gave in. Allowing herself to quickly pace the floor, and forcing her mind to forget all about the lopsided box, all while making a mental note to let maintenance know to fix it.

And to think, she'd been told she wasn't in need of medication for this. That it wasn't as bad as the underlying cause of these obsessive-compulsive tendencies. She guessed she agreed with her doctors on that. The medication she was taking now was doing its job to perfection, and she had become quite adept at catching her obsessions and fighting them back. But she was far from perfect at it.

God, did she hate it. Who knows just how many times she'd almost hyperventilated on the tube for one reason or another, or paced worn paths in the carpet of her old flat. And Malin—God rest his soul—had brought on the OCD. Not intentionally of course…and even though he was responsible for curing her, his existence also splintered her mind further.

But she couldn't think about Malin right now. She had work to do…a lot of work….Maybe she wouldn't be making those counseling sessions after all.

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11:47 pm. Good God. Sixteen hours and Evelyn still found herself at Arkham. Well at least Jonathon hadn't been lying when he said she'd be working...meticulous, detailed driven work.

"Yeah...no joke." She looked at her paper strewn desk, noticing just how tempting it was to want to lay her head down. Coupled with the soft strains of opera in the background, her head grew heavier and heavier.

She promised herself it would only be for a minute or two. But no sooner had her head hit the desk did she settle into a gentle sleep.

"Evelyn…?" She couldn't be sure of the voice. "Evelyn?" She groggily opened an eye and glanced up, spotting Jonathon's poised figure in the doorway.

"Jonathon?" She asked sleepily.

"Sleeping on the job are we?" He asked lightly, shaking his head as though disappointed.

"No…its way after hours—"

"Evelyn, I wasn't serious." Nothing in his voice supported such a notion.

"But still I…I shouldn't have fallen asleep. There is so much to be finished for tomorrow."

"Your dedication is most commendable and will not go overlooked."

"And what about you?" She looked up at him. "What keeps you here at all hours?"

"I have that rare oddity of actually enjoying my job."

"There're few who can say that…." She said for lack of finding anything better to say. He glanced quickly around her office before settling on the paper scattered about her desk.

"Well you seem to have things well enough in hand for one night. Why don't you go home and rest?" He made sure a note of concern registered in his voice.

"But you need that report tomorrow, and there's still much more editing to be done—"

"Dear Evelyn," he circled around her desk, reminding her of a predator approaching its prey, if not for the almost gentle note on his voice, "it's quite clear you're exhausted," he placed his cool fingertips against her cheek, "and the last thing I need is for you to fall ill." She could not help but smile as her eyes stayed on his. Slowly, softly he trailed his thumb down her cheek and lightly across her lips, making her heart race and flutter.

"All right." She said softly, nodding dazedly as he pulled his hand back.

"Good." He smiled and Evelyn thought she would melt.

Wordlessly she gathered her bag and coat, almost sure she could feel Jonathon's eyes on her the whole time.

"Jonathon, you can't be ok with this…I've never not been allowed to meet a deadline."

"Evelyn, even I can be understanding." He said laughingly, mock disappointment on his voice.

She nodded sleepily surprised as she shrugged an arm into her coat. Soundlessly Jonathon stepped behind her and held open the other side.

"Thank you." She glanced over her shoulder, surprised by just how close he really was. His hand still held her coat, which now rested against her shoulder. His eyes read hers, secretly calculating.

"Goodnight Evelyn." He brushed his lips across her cheek ever so airily, again sending her heart into overdrive.

"Goodnight Jonathon." In a rush, she leaned over, pressing her lips against his before quickly pulling back. She turned from him, stopping her CD player before leaving the small office, her cheeks burning bright red.

Part of Jonathon felt like rolling his eyes. The things he put up with just for security.

But another part of him was strangely confused. How long had it been since he'd been shown open kindness, and/or been kissed…?

No matter now. There was work to be done. He crossed her small office, stopping in front of the abstract wall painting.

He gripped the black frame and slid it up and out from the wall, setting it to the ground. And then he turned to leave, closing the door behind him, pleasantly satisfied with how well things had been progressing.

Especially with Evelyn. She'd been much more receptive to his wishes than he'd originally thought her to be.

Thankfully so. Especially tonight, just as preparations were nearing the final stages. Especially since Max and Devlin would be bringing in newly arrived shipments within the hour, and Crane just couldn't have Evelyn around for that.

It would only unnecessarily force his hand.

too predictable? the ending of this chapter seems a bit cliched to me, but then again, maybe not.sorry for the shortness--this past week had the workload from hell, and the adverse effects from my flu shot did nothing to help. anywho, chapter 5 should be up by the end of this week or so. post a review if'n ya wants! thanks for stopping by!

p.s. happy early halloween!