A/N: Yikes, I forgot to put this in the first chapter. I own nothing. And truth be known, I'm a little bitter about that, but no harm is intended and I'm making no $. I promise to put everything back where I found it.

9:59 AM.

She checked her watch one more time, hoping that she still had a window of time to get away, heart rate on the rise. Her eyes flew to the door; perhaps there was still time…

"Detective Eames?"

Dammit. I almost made good my escape. "Yes?"

"Good morning. Thank you for waiting. I'm Dr. Stevenson but please call me Beth; it's nice to meet you."

"Hi, um, nice to meet you too, I guess."

The doctor laughed. "Well, under the circumstances, that was very polite. Points for you, Detective. I know you don't want to be here, but the Department requires it, so I'm glad to see you've at least decided to be civil. I tend to get a lot of grunts."

"Me too." Oh no, why did I say that? She's going to think I'm a weirdo. Backtrack, backtrack! "I mean, my partner can be a little pre-verbal sometimes; it's not a problem though." And stop narrowing your eyes at me, lady, I may be polite, but I am not some needy clingy wimp in need of hand-holding, so there.

"Your partner? By any chance would that be the rather imposing man pacing in front of my building?" Alex followed Beth into her office to look out the window, sure that he couldn't be there waiting already. And lo and behold, there he was, pacing in front of the building. Great, Bobby, like I don't already feel helpless enough about needing a ride home, you had to be an hour early?

"Yes," she told the doctor, "that's him. I guess he must have gotten the time wrong to pick me up. My brother just dropped me off a few minutes ago. Sorry about that. I can run outside and tell him to go have coffee or something if you want." Yes, that's it! With the element of surprise, I can take the keys from him and be in Jersey in 10 minutes. Good plan, Alex. Go for it.

Beth gave her an even look that made Alex think perhaps this woman wasn't an idiot after all. "No, Detective Eames, you can stay here. Your partner is just fine where he is, so why don't we start?'

Oh, let's not. There's a sale at Bloomingdale's and I'll buy you anything you want. "OK. Sure."

"First off, would you like to tell me why you're here?"

Well, I was almost used as a pincushion by a serial killer. And how was your day? "I'm sorry, Dr…Beth, but I thought you had the file. I'm required to be here." That sounded pissed off, oh hell, I am pissed off. Screw it.

Beth sighed, "Yes, you are, Detective, and you are also required to participate, so cut the crap, would you? Don't waste my time or yours."

Direct and blunt. I may end up liking this chick. "Okay, well, as you know, I was attacked in my home and kidnapped by a serial killer with a grudge against her father, who was my partner's mentor. I escaped, and I'm fine," Alex said with not a little pride.

"Your home? That's personal. Have you been back?"

Aw, geez, lady, right in with the big stuff, huh? "I went back with my brother and packed some things, but I'm actually renting a new place now. It was a crime scene for quite a while."

Beth was taking notes. "Where are you renting?"

"Um…in Brooklyn. My partner's landlord owns a few buildings, and he found an available short-term studio for me. I own the house, so I can afford to do it until the notoriety dies down a little." Alex hoped her voice sounded even. She wasn't really sure she would ever move back into the house, but she sure as hell wasn't going to tell that to a stranger. Neither was she planning to reveal that while the studio in Brooklyn pretty much sucked, its closeness to Bobby had been its biggest selling point. I'm not that stupid, lady.

Nodding, Beth asked, "I read about the case in the papers. Makes sense you wouldn't want to return until you're sure not to run into trouble. So, your partner helped you find a place? That was nice of him."

"Yes, it was. He's been very protective since this happened." Understatement of the year, that. Between him and my brothers, I'm not even allowed to take the subway to my own therapy. Jackasses.

"And he's picking you up at therapy as well? It sounds like the two of you are close."

Well, if you consider one partner treating the other like she's broken, then sure. We're close. He's lucky I understand how scared he was, or I'd be kicking his butt up and down Flatbush Avenue. I may still. "We've been partners for almost six years. My car is evidence, and he was…um…understandably concerned when I disappeared, so…"

Beth smiled. "So, he's acting like you're delicate and its pissing you off, huh?"

Alex looked up in surprise. This woman might be okay after all. She smirked "That's about the size of it. I am making an effort to be patient." And am very glad he's not insisting we shower together. Well, maybe not very glad, but…danger, Alex. Keep those thoughts out of your head. They'll bench your ass for sure. "He's just worried."

"What about you? Are you worried?"

"I'm not exactly myself, but I'm getting better." There. Honesty, lady, okay?

"Well, good. If you weren't at least a little worried, I'd have reason to be." Beth looked down at her watch. "That's a good first start, Detective. You are required to attend at least six sessions with me, over a period of no longer than 60 days. Will this time work for you for next week?"

That's it? We didn't even talk about my childhood. What a gyp. "This time is fine." Alex got up to go, but was stunned when Beth put a gentle hand on her arm.

"Detective, I'm not out to hurt you, just to help. Anything you say in these sessions is kept confidential. All I do, once our sessions are finished, is report your mental status in a general way to the NYPD. So, next time, we're going to get past some of those defenses, okay?"

Oh, god, are those tears in my eyes? Think about something annoying…Barney, traffic, Logan…oooh, that worked. "OK." She left with her head held high, knowing that Bobby needed to see she was all right. He was still pacing, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her come out the door.

"How did it go?"

"Oh, fine, thanks, actually we talked about you most of the time."

"WHAT?"

Heh. Take that, Mr. I'll Be Here an Hour Early. This therapy thing could turn out to be at least a little fun, after all.