"Have you ever heard of knocking," Billy snapped at Quidd.
"I-I-I-" Quidd stammered at the stern look on Billy's face.
Billy rose from his seat, narrowed his eyes at Dr. Quidd and replied coolly, "You're right. We do need to have a talk. Sit down." When Quidd didn't move, he bellowed, "I said sit!" Quidd backed away from the desk and sat in one of the chairs in front of it while Billy moved from behind his desk to close the blinds. Quidd trembled slightly at seeing this, as he knew that only meant one thing. He was in for it. "Now, I wanna' know just what the hell you've done to Amanda King!"
"All I've done is try to help her snap out of her fantasy world," Quidd answered defensively.
"Not the way I hear it," Billy argued. "The way I heard it, all you've done is make her worse, increase her terror by belittling her, keeping her locked up in the infirmary, ignored her begging to see Lee-"
"Is that what Scarecrow told you on the phone just now? I tried to tell him that with all these delusions she was having of him as this fairly-tale hero, that his presence would have only made it worse. I was just at his apartment and you should have seen her. She's more frightened now than she was when she was in my care. When I tried to help her, I was stopped by not only him but your assistant as well." He pointed to his jaw and explained how Francine had belted him.
Billy clamped his lips together for a moment to keep from laughing since this was still a serious situation, making a mental note to give Francine a raise in her wardrobe allowance. "First of all, that phone call from Scarecrow is none of your damn business-"
"How can you say that?" Quidd cut in with a look of incredulity. "He's interfering with the treatment of my patient and so is Desmond! You're letting whatever spin he put on this-"
Billy held up a hand to stop Quidd's rant and continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "Second, Scarecrow didn't tell me anything about you. He didn't have to." Billy reached over to pick up a file from his desk and dropped it in Quidd's lap. "This is Dr. Kelford's report on her condition. It's all right there." He then fixed Quidd with a piercing glare. "And finally, Lee's not interfering with the care of your patient because she's no longer your patient. I've already had all of her files transferred to Dr. Joyce. She'll be taking over Amanda's psychological rehabilitation from here."
"You can't be serious!' Quidd shouted, rising from his seat and staring Billy down.
Billy poked him sharply in the chest with one finger, pushing him back toward the chair and said, "Didn't I tell you to sit down? Claudia is in charge of Amanda's care from this point forward and until I tell you differently, you're not to go near her again; not until I hear from Claudia that her mental state is stable."
"Well, if you ask my opinion, Mrs. King needs a whole lot more than psychological rehabilitation," Quidd retorted hotly as he sank back into his chair and folded his arms across his chest defiantly.
"I don't believe anyone did," A cool voice said from the doorway. Both men turned just as the door was being closed to see Dr. Smyth lighting a cigarette before continuing with, "Ask your opinion, that is." He took a long, slow drag from his cigarette, fixing Quidd with his typical are-you-going-to-dare-to challenge-me death glare.
"Be that as it may, I feel I have to say that in my observances of her, going all the way back to Stemwinder when she was rambling on about Scarecrow and his promises to her, she's not cut out to be a field agent." Quidd then turned his attention to Billy and added, "I don't know what you were thinking after that mess in even considering allowing her into the agent candidate program. She's far too emotional to be an effective field agent. This latest incident and how she's reacted to it only proves my point. She clearly lacks the mental stamina necessary to handle being faced with real conflict. You should never have allowed a mere housewife into such dangerous situations, especially not with the way you've let Scarecrow coddle her."
Billy opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by Dr. Smyth waving a finger at him. "Billy, I know that you have other things to do. I'll take it from here." He then turned his attention to Quidd and nodded with his head toward the door, making his way to the conference room.
Upon entering the room, he closed the blinds before turning his attention back to Quidd. "Surely, you're not questioning my authority, Dr. Quidd," Smyth questioned menacingly. "It was I who offered Mrs. King the opportunity for advancement, not Melrose; an opportunity she earned by her unwavering loyalty to this country and to this agency despite the fact that we showed no loyalty to her." He shook his head and added, "As for her being too emotional, she's proven in that last three years that that is just what our temperamental Scarecrow needs in a partner to keep him out of hot water."
"I disagree," Quidd argued. "The worst thing that you could possibly do is keep them paired as partners, especially now that we know that they've had a personal relationship on the side."
"You're surprised by this?" Smyth asked him with a devious smile.
Quidd snorted and replied, "Nothing surprises me when it comes to the depths Scarecrow will sink to in order to get what he wants from a woman, but this time he's gone too far. He's done nothing but baby her for the past three years instead of allowing her to be faced with the cold, hard reality of how brutal this job can be for fields agents. Now, she's just found out the hard way and she's proven that she can't handle it."
Smyth smiled again and rather than replying to the insults Quidd had flung at Lee and Amanda, countered with, "You know it occurs to me that for a man who's spent years studying human behavior, you have yet to learn how to show any. Billy's quite right in assigning Mrs. King's case to Dr. Joyce. She has the gift of compassion and you don't." At the insulted look on Quidd's face he continued with, "Don't get me wrong. Your lack of empathy has its merits, making you a valuable asset in the interrogation room; however, it makes you a poor counselor for agents in need of therapy. Mrs. King will get the treatment she needs by Dr. Joyce and you're to keep your grubby little paws off of her case."
"But-" Quidd protested.
"Just to be sure that you do, you're on a leave of absence until further notice. Dr. Pfaff will be taking over your other cases until I hear that Mrs. King has made a full recovery. Are we clear?" When Quidd nodded numbly, Smyth nodded and said, "Good," and then swept out of the room.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Francine sat silently gaping at Lee. For the first time in her life, she couldn't think of a thing to say, not even one of her normally biting sarcastic comments. She watched as Lee hung up the phone and much as he had in the infirmary when awaiting news on Amanda's condition, buried his face in his hands. The distress she could see in him was reminiscent of the same distress she'd seen on his face when she'd found him in her car a few days ago when he'd told her that Billy had taken him off Amanda's case. Not knowing just what to do for him, she rose from her seat saying, "I...Uh...I'm just gonna' take care of the mess in your dining room."
Lee raised his head and replied, "No, don't. I'll get it." He then pulled himself from the sofa and trudged into the dining room.
"I wanna' help," Francine insisted as she trailed after him, then in an attempt to lighten the somber mood, added, "After all, you don't want your future mother-in-law coming over here and thinking you're a slob, right?"
Lee whipped around to face her and growled, "Is that supposed to be funny? Do you have any idea how nerve-wracking this whole thing is? I'm about to tell her that her daughter's been lying to her for three straight years and I haven't got one clue how to go about it!" Lee then turned back to the table and began cleaning up, walking back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room while Francine just stood in the doorway between the two to stay out of his way.
"Then why do it?" She questioned. "I mean, Billy was pretty adamant about her family being kept out of this whole thing."
"I know, but I can't give her the help she needs, not by myself," He stated as he violently tossed the empty bakery bags and boxes into his now overstuffed kitchen trashcan. "Great!" He grumbled as he lodged a kick at the trashcan, shook his head, and then rummaged through the cabinet under his sink for a fresh bag, tossing it haphazardly on the counter. He removed the hinged cover from the can, threw it onto the linoleum and yanked up roughly on the full bag, and made quick work of tying it closed. He tossed the bag through the doorway, causing Francine to back up quickly and replaced it with the new one and slammed the cover back onto the trashcan.
"Lee, the trashcan is your friend," Francine quipped in the hopes of getting her friend out of the surly mood that he was in. Lee glared at her then disappeared back into the kitchen. "I'm your friend," she said in a more serious tone. She sighed when the only response was the sound of water running. She watched in helpless silence as Lee returned to the dining room to gather up the dishes, then heard the water stop and soon after Lee returned with a damp dishcloth and began furiously scrubbing the table with it. She finally felt the need to say something, "Okay, Lee, I think it's great that you're no longer letting your apartment grow things, but aren't you going a little overboard?"
Lee turned his attention to her, balling up the dishcloth in his fist and answered, "I have to do something to keep from going crazy."
"Okay, I understand that, but you're at the point right now where you're going to need to re-varnish that table if you keep going the way you are."
Lee tossed the cloth onto the table and let out a deep sigh. "Amanda once told me that doing housework grounds her, keeps her mind occupied, that with the craziness of our job, it makes her feel better to do something normal...routine. I thought...I don't know..." He sighed again as he picked the cloth back and walked into the living room, wiping up the coffee spill then began gathering up the contents of Amanda's purse and putting them back in it with the exception of the sleeve of photos. He dropped the cloth again as he began thumbing through the pictures, pausing and smiling slightly at one in particular.
"You look good together," Francine commented wistfully from behind him with a nod at the picture.
Lee's smile widened slightly as he ran his fingertips across Amanda's smiling face in the photo of the two of them in formalwear. "She looks amazing in this dress." He indicated the black dress with the pearl buttons.
"It is a fabulous dress," Francine agreed. "I'll have to remember to ask her where she got it."
Lee chuckled and replied, "That's not such a hot idea, Francine," as he reflected back on the time that he'd once pissed Amanda off by asking that same question. It had now become a private joke between the pair, as Amanda would wear it just to remind him that he didn't need to even think about buying dresses for anymore "friends," when he had a girlfriend who could make her own.
"Well, whoever the designer is, they have some amazing talent."
Lee grinned at Francine. "She's the designer."
"No!" Francine took the photo from his hand and took a long, hard look at the dress in the photo.
"Yeah," Lee answered with a nod. "She made it herself."
Francine snorted and shook her head. "Is there anything she can't do?"
Lee's smile faded at her words as it brought him back to the reality at hand, that at the moment, there was one thing Amanda couldn't do. He grimaced as he worried again about how to help her sort out her memories from the hallucinations. He took the photo holder back from Francine and shoved it in his pocket, picked up the cloth from the coffee table, along with the coffee cups and carried them into the kitchen. Once he'd placed them in the sinkful of soapy water, he gripped the edge of the sink tightly as his despair took hold again. "God," He muttered.
"Lee, don't do this to yourself," Francine warned from the doorway.
He whipped around and said, "Do what?"
"Don't blame yourself for what happened to her. Remember what Billy said: put the blame where it belongs."
Lee pushed past Francine into the dining room, snatched up the full trash bag and headed toward his front door. Without even turning around, Lee knew that Francine had followed him from room to room again and said, "I...Um...I'm gonna' go throw this out. I...Uh...I need to clear my head. Will you...Uh..." He gestured with his head toward his bedroom.
Francine nodded. "I'll keep an eye on her."
"Thanks."
Francine stared at the closed from door for a moment after Lee was gone, worry etched on her face, not only for Amanda's mental state, but also for Lee's. She'd seen a side of him this week that she'd never seen before, a side that she'd always suspected was there underneath his brusque, devil-may-care outward demeanor, but one that he'd never let his guard down enough to show her. Until now, that is. Now, it seemed that he just didn't care who saw his more vulnerable, more compassionate, more sensitive side. The only time she'd come close to catching a glimpse of it was when he'd lost Andy, but this...this was different. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but something about Amanda had made him a changed man.
Her thoughts of Amanda brought her back to the task at hand. She'd promised Lee that she'd look out for her while he was gone. She walked toward Lee's bedroom and gently pushed open the door to find Amanda muttering in her sleep, but couldn't quite make out what she was saying. She crept closer and heard, "Can't move..." Other than her lips moving slightly and the rise and fall of her chest, Amanda was lying there stiff as a board. Francine found this very unsettling because she knew that even under the influence of a sedative, there should be some of the natural shifting that occurred during sleep, especially in a dream state, which it appeared she was in.
"Amanda," she said softly as she didn't want to startle her, but she also didn't want her already disturbed mind becoming even more so if she were having another nightmare. She's taken a sedative, Stupid, she mentally scolded herself. She took a step closer, knelt beside the bed, gently nudged her and a bit louder, repeated, "Amanda."
Amanda's eyes fluttered open and to Francine's astonishment, she felt the sting of Amanda's hand across her face with a loud shout of, "Traitor!"