Author's Note: I started this, Jass ran with it.
"Let me get this straight," Jack said incredulously, "This is your version of relationship counseling." He looked over at Chloe who was red, again, and glaring slow and painful death at Fauve.
"Yup." Fauve sipped her orange juice. Jack looked at his and suddenly wished it was something stronger, much stronger. In fact, that tequila, which he'd stashed behind the oatmeal to hide it from Kim when she came over because of a guilt trip, wouldn't go amiss right now. "You two obviously have communication issues, and you...well, you just have issues."
Stiffly, Chloe told Fauve, "We communicate just fine, thank you. It's part of our job."
"Oh, really," Fauve sounded smug. Per personal protocol, Chloe began to worry. What did she have this time? "Jack," Fauve asked sweetly, "when was the last time you had a meaningful conversation with Chloe outside of work?"
The question blindsided the man. He couldn't meet either woman's eyes and kept looking at the juice, willing it to become a screwdriver. Chloe's clipped answer, "The night before I called you," covered his silence.
Rolling her eyes, Fauve snapped, "That question was directed at Jack. Well?"
Jack honestly couldn't remember having a real conversation with Chloe.
He remembered, well didn't remember, the number of calls he'd made to the analyst, usually at some ungodly hour during the night or morning following one of those days. The calls themselves consisted on him alternating talking, ranting, and pleading with God or whatever other power that was. All Chloe really did was hmm and yes in the right places and make soothing noises when he got really upset. Rarely did she comment, and only then to provide reassurance to him. And she never talked about herself. He wasn't going to mention that to Fauve, but then again, there wasn't much else he could say. It turned out he wouldn't have to.
"Fauve, knock it off, will you?" Chloe snapped. "Just because you're a licensed psychiatrist doesn't mean you can shrink us." She made a quick motion between her and Jack, and Fauve snorted.
"Honey, I can't think of two people who need to be 'shrinked' more than you." Fauve copied Chloe's motion. "Your relationship is the screwiest thing I have EVER-"
"We don't have a 'relationship'!" Chloe barked, and Jackjumped. "Seriously, Fauve. Cut it out."
Fauve turned in her seat and whispered something to Chloe, who responded in the like. They went back and forth several times, but Jack couldn't hear a word of it. He did, however, see the pleading look Chloe gave her friend, and watched as Fauve rubbed her back slowly. A few minutes passed, and Fauve turned back to Jack.
"You see?" she stated. "You two really do have issues."
"Seems to me like it's you two are the ones with issues." Jack pointed out, glancing at the crazy shrink and petite analyst.
Chloe gave an incredulous snort and remarked, sarcastically, "Us? Issues? Never."
Fauve elbowed her into silence. "Never mind that. The point is, you two never really talk." Chloe opened her mouth to protest, and Fauve glared. "Let me attempt to rephrase that: He talks, you listen." Chloe's mouth snapped shut, and Fauve gave a satisfied nod. Jack wondered exactly how much Chloe had told this nutcase.
"So, the whole point of the next..." Fauve glanced at her watch. "Five hours, is to get you two to learn to talk and, hopefully, work past your issues."
She gave a nod, took a sip of her orange juice, and leaned back in her chair. "Start talking."