Hello all! Thanks again to those reading this story—I'm sorry I don't have the time to respond to your reviews yet, but I will! I've been away and will continue to be until June 9 when my internet gets installed in my new house (gasp!), but I'm still working on chapters and concepts and am excited to come back with a flurry of updates. I have written so many chapters in my head as I paint. I also can't wait to catch up with my favorite stories and begin to review again. I'm sorry I don't have time to read anything at the moment. :( In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this morsel!
I always forget disclaimers: none of these characters are mine—it's all in good fun! I just adore Sweets, nothing more, nothing less.
Most people didn't know that Lance suffered from a disease that had almost claimed his life several times. Daisy vaguely knew. His parents had known firsthand, since they had almost watched him die. But they were gone, and now Daisy was gone—at least from Lance's life. The disease was depression.
Four weeks after the love of his life had departed for Indonesia, Lance was having a hard time getting out of bed. On this particular morning, his eyes were very heavy, as if he hadn't slept at all. He couldn't open them and had little desire to try. His body felt light and airy and urged him to drift back into blissful unconsciousness.
Lance was dreaming of being cool. A breeze was floating gently through the languid palm trees jutting out of white sands. It was strange to be so cool and yet in a tropical location. The brilliant blue ocean lapped against its pale terminus, and Lance realized that he was being accompanied by none other than the renowned Dr. Temperance Brennan.
"Hello, Bones," he said, surprised at his own familiarity with her nickname and yet not surprised. "When are you coming back to the Jeffersonian?" he asked the ethereal anthropologist.
Brennan was wearing an emerald sarong decorated with a sprawling white pattern of concentric circles.
"Never, Sweets. I'm going to stay in Indonesia. I'm afraid I can't solve murders anymore." She seemed resolute.
"Can't or won't?" he pried.
"Can't," she said mysteriously. Then, as if his subconscious wanted to explain more, she added, "I'm pregnant," as if this explained everything. Lance looked down to see her belly swollen with child. His subconscious responded with a burst of jealousy. He wished Daisy were pregnant. Maybe she would have stayed in the U.S., and he would have been part of a real family again. Weren't women supposed to be the ones with a ticking biological time bomb? He wanted to be a father so badly.
Sudden fear gripped the incorporeal Lance. He said, "I need help. Something is wrong with me!" His eyes were wild as he showed his wrists to Dr. Brennan. They had opened up at unnatural seams, and blood flowed freely from starkly blue veins.
Dr. Brennan nodded in grim agreement. "Something is wrong with you," she said simply and began to walk away.
Lance jolted awake. Damn, he had fallen back asleep. He needed to force himself to pull off the covers and put both feet on the floor. That's it, you can do it, he told himself encouragingly. He couldn't help but glance at his wrist where two dim scars reminded him that his dream was born in a past reality. Not to mention a present one—he missed Dr. Brennan terribly. Even more so he missed Daisy.
Lance was choking on his own tight throat, and tears leaked out of his tired eyes. He knew that the day was not going to be easy. I could just go back to bed and never get up again and no one would notice. Not for weeks, maybe months. No one knows I am even alive. Lance wanted to chastise his thoughts and tell himself, that is depression talking. You can beat this. But he believed it—with Booth, Brennan, Angela, Hodgins, and especially Daisy gone—he believed it.
He glanced at his cat and thought, well Knox would care. A cat's got to eat. There was his reason to get up today. I suppose people have gotten out of bed for worse, he contemplated morosely. Knox purred encouragingly.
At work, Lance was very startled to hear a knock on his door and the creak of someone entering. The FBI had been cold and lonely lately with no Booth around. He had seen his usual patients but had been profiling less. The truth was he was bored without Booth. He was feeling less and less stimulated by FBI work, and was beginning to realize that the people at the Jeffersonian were the main draw to his job.
He looked away from his computer to see Cam entering his office. Her entrance brought a smile to his weary face.
"Dr. Saroyan," he said with as close to exuberance as a depressed person could muster.
"Dr. Sweets," she greeted, genuinely pleased to see him. In fact, it had been several weeks since they had corresponded over email about a case. This was the first they had seen of each other since they had parted with Dr. Brennan and Daisy at the airport.
"So, how are you?" Lance asked moving to sit across from her and folding his hands in his lap.
"Oh, it's kind of lonely over at the Jeffersonian. I've been breaking in some new staff. I have a new computer programmer extraordinaire: Bea. Beatrice Vu. I think you'd like her. She's kind of alternative…"
"Alternative to what?" Lance was picturing someone who was half man half woman with bug antenna.
"You know, a nose ring, tattoos, likes loud music. She's of your generation."
Lance smiled at this appraisal. He knew Cam perceived him as very young. He also wondered if Cam was trying to set him up.
Cam continued, "I haven't found anyone to fill Dr. Brennan's shoes—not that that's possible—but I've been using Wendell, Fischer, Arastoo, and Mr. Nigel-Murray as much as possible. Agent Perotta has been filling in for Booth." She sighed deeply. "It's a zoo. I need a vacation. Of course, everyone is gone, so…"
"No vacation for the weary boss," Lance finished. "That must be hard on you," he added frowning, going into shrink mode.
"I make do. Actually, we could really use your help on a complex case we're working. Do you think you could stop by some time in the morning tomorrow?"
"Of course. I really miss working with you," Lance said quickly. Desperately. Gazing at Cam he realized how much he did miss her. He felt like he had been reunited with a sibling after a summer apart.
Cam remained sitting and looked tired.
"It's great to see you again, Cam." Lance startled himself by using her first name. He blushed a little.
Cam just smiled and looked pleased that he seemed more comfortable with her.
"There's actually something else I'd like to ask for your help on."
"Yes?" Lance asked, eager to correct his perceived mistake—always the people pleaser.
"It's Michelle. She asked if you wouldn't mind if she dropped by this afternoon. She said she really needs someone to talk to. I know this is...irregular. I mean, you work for the FBI. But, I think something is really bothering her. I suspect it may be her father's death. She's never really dealt with it…"
Lance held up his hand to calm Cam's discomfort. "I would be happy to talk to her. It's no problem. Of course, if she needs help getting over her father's death then I will recommend that she see someone long term."
Cam looked infinitely relieved. "Of course, I'll pay you for your time."
"No! No. I couldn't accept money. It's a personal favor and a professional courtesy. I'm always here for you and your family."
"Dr. Sweets—if something is really wrong, will you tell me?"
"I'll make sure you know what to do to help, but I have to abide by patient confidentiality." Lance moved closer. "It'll be alright, Dr. Saroyan. I'll make sure Michelle finds the help she needs."
"Thank you. It means a lot. Um, Dr. Sweets, don't take this the wrong way, but are you alright? You look…very thin. A little ill, actually."
Lance shifted uncomfortably. He knew he needed someone to check on him, since he didn't even wholly trust himself with his illness. He decided to let Cam in a little, though he was very wary of delving into his deeper problems with anyone from his current incarnation.
"I…uh, I really miss Daisy," he said miserably. "I'm not handling things so well."
Cam looked concerned for her young coworker and said, "Of course you miss her, Dr. Sweets. But, can I say something? I think you could do better. Daisy always wanted to talk about herself, but you, you want to help other people find their ways in the world. I don't think she appreciated the fact that you are a rare person with very specific gifts."
"We were engaged," Lance informed Cam, who registered shock at the revelation. Lance hadn't told anyone that he had asked Daisy to be his wife. He was not even sure why he had been hiding it so long. "Daisy wanted me to quit my practice here, follow her to Indonesia, and become a pearl diver."
Cam smiled. "See? She barely gave your happiness any thought. Don't take this the wrong way, but you are much more…normal than she is. And you know what else? I got tired of all the Daisy/Sweets sex tapes that made their way to my office from the security guards. Especially since I will all too soon have to endure Angela/Hodgins sex tapes again. Those were always so…graphic."
Lance blushed and muttered something apologetic.
"Don't try to explain. Coworkers shouldn't date, Dr. Sweets. Might I suggest a dating service?"
They parted on an awkward but friendly note.