No updates for a bit, lovelies, after these two, since I'll be at a conference through the weekend. Thanks so much to the kind reviewers and followers so far! *squishy Sweets' hugs for all*
Sweetfavouritethings: I think you are correct; no one has really written this period from Lance's p.o.v., which makes it intimidating. ;) Thanks for your support!
Jsieber: Oh, if only you knew how massive the backstory is that I've created for Sweets, you might be frightened! Thank you for the compliment!
RT: You do appreciate the angst, so I had to deliver! Notice the lack of parental names? Can't do it. ;) I'd almost forgotten how nervous and awkward Sweets was when he began on the show, so I had to be true to canon after my early episode watching fest this week. Also, boy, you're reading my mind again. See following April/Sweets convo. Sheesh.
At the coffee shop, Lance was sitting across from April. He was in a dress shirt and slacks and noticed that April was attired in adorably frumpy clothes—a kind of ill-fitting sweater and long floral skirt. He liked this about her; she did not put on airs. Her palpable nervousness comforted him rather than putting him ill at ease. Lance had some trouble fitting in himself.
April was babbling and Lance had lost the train of the conversation, as he was consumed by his observations and thoughts. He was generally an excellent listener and felt a little guilty, but since his parents' deaths he had been increasingly adrift. He thought about the statistic that one only heard about 40% of what was said to them and forced himself back into the moment.
"Carnivorous fish were introduced into eastern Madagascar and have nearly caused the extinction of an indigenous grebe! Can you believe it?" April was positively flushed with excitement.
Cute, Lance thought.
"No, I can't. That's quite…wait, what's a grebe?" Lance asked confused.
"A freshwater diving bird!" she responded. She might as well have added, silly. Lance was a bit out of his element, but he regrouped after laughing nervously and a little too loudly.
"So April, what do you have a degree in?" Lance didn't mean that to sound quite as penetrating as it came out. April looked taken aback and blushed.
"I have my masters in marine biology."
Lance immediately picked up on her discomfort and exclaimed overenthusiastically, "That's really interesting!" He wondered why she was sensitive about her degree.
"Most people I work with have their doctorates," she offered.
Oh, Lance thought.
"Do you have an advanced degree? I mean, I assume you do, because you're a psychologist. Sorry, I don't know much about your field, other than that you give people advice."
"That's ok. Yeah, I have doctorates in clinical psychology and behavioral analysis," Lance confirmed, feeling like maybe he should have mentioned only one of his degrees.
"Wow, um, that's a lot of Ph.D.s for a young person. How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?"
Lance thought desperately, I do mind. But what could he do?
"I'm 22." He cringed, waiting for the usual reaction of shock and suspicion that came along with confessing his age. April's eyes did bug out a tad. Great, I've blown it already.
"Um, wow again. Sorry, I'll stop—You're a lot younger than I'd thought," April replied, furrowing her brow.
Lance sorted through his usual range of responses and came up empty. He was too tired to make apologies for himself right now. He suddenly felt like departing.
"Yeah. So April, I've really enjoyed this. Perhaps we could do it again sometime? I've got to catch up on some work at home—new job and everything."
"Oh, of course." They exchanged numbers and parted with a friendly hand shake.
On his walk home, Lance wondered if he was attracted to April. He wasn't sure yet, but he did find the prospect of a new relationship exciting.
His phone rang and it was Dr. Temperance Brennan, whom he had been trying to reach all week to set up an appointment. She was very difficult to pin down. At last, she agreed to see him next Saturday night, claiming it was the only opening she had in her schedule. Lance rolled his eyes at the prospect of coming into work then, but he was still so new to his job that he decided he couldn't afford to burn bridges.
"I will see you and Agent Booth next Saturday at 8pm then, Dr. Brennan. I'm looking forward-"
She hung up on him. Ouch, Lance thought. She was abrupt. Maybe counseling the partners wasn't going to be as exhilarating as he was anticipating.
Instead of doing work when he got home, he played Halo 2 on his XBox for roughly 3 hours. After his mind had succumbed to the euphoria of mindless computerized demolition, he curled up on his couch. Thoughts of his parents tore through his numbed state. He wept briefly, then fell asleep without changing his clothes or brushing his teeth.