I can't believe I got another one in! I've been hopping on internet for a moment at my parent's hotel! Still no time to read-I miss The Heart of the Family! :( -but like I said, I have been writing away five minutes at a time! Hope you enjoy! This story is going many places and will even take an exciting plot twist in the next couple of chapters. This one is set up for what's to come. More heartache for Baby Duck is one the way before happier times. Miss you all!

Disclaimer: NOT MINE.

Lance didn't know exactly why he was doing this, but at lunchtime he was on his way to former Doctor, now Chef, Gordon Gordon Wyatt's restaurant. It was only when he walked through the door that he realized he had not gone there to eat.

"Excuse me, is Dr. Wyatt back there?" Lance asked the hostess pleasantly. She was bored and sullen, but informed him that she would see if he was busy.

"Who should I tell him you are?" she asked eyeballing him like he was a half-price fish at the farmer's market.

"Uh, Lance Sweets."

In a moment the hostess returned with news that Gordon would meet Lance at the bar. Lance took a seat and ordered a sparkling water with lime. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Well, if it isn't the illustrious Dr. Sweets," Gordon said jovially, pumping Lance's hand. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Lance fumbled for a reason, and Gordon immediately picked up on the fact that Lance wasn't there for the new Chef Gordon, but rather the old Dr. Wyatt.

Wyatt interrupted, "I hear all of your compadres have flown the coup, so to speak. How are you doing with all of that?"

"Oh fine. Look, I don't want to waste your time. I'm not really sure why I came here today," Lance said honestly.

"I think I know," Gordon said, raising an eyebrow. "But first, let me provide you with a glass of the most fabulous Sauvignon Blanc this side of the Atlantic." Gordon ordered the wine for Lance over his protests, but once Lance had tasted its grassy freshness, his mood improved slightly.

Lance turned back to Gordon. "I'm a professional psychologist. A successful academic. Of all people, why don't I know how to handle myself?" His tone was dead and flat.

"Sometimes oneself is the biggest enigma of all, Dr. Sweets," Gordon answered sadly. "I'm not a practicing psychiatrist anymore, but that doesn't mean I can't lend an ear for a friend. How about we have coffee at the Royal Diner every Tuesday for a little while, say 8:30 am."

Lance wanted to protest—that sounded like therapy—but he needed someone to trust with what he was feeling. He was definitely losing control. He felt like weeping into his wine right here in Gordon's restaurant.

"Don't look so defeated, Dr. Sweets. You're not like you used to be."

What? Lance thought a little panicked. Why did it always seem he could read Lance's mind?

"After all, you came to me, didn't you?" Gordon smiled, patted Lance on the back. The two men said their goodbyes.

Now it was time for Lance to attend to someone other than himself who needed help: Michelle. He headed back to his office for his afternoon rendezvous with the most important person in Cam's life.

On the way back to his office Lance checked his phone messages and found one extremely intriguing. The message was from his former advisor—Jeanne La Fleur—at Columbia University. Georgetown University, here in DC, apparently had an opening for assistant professor in the psychology department, and Jeanne had a personal connection to the department chair. The department had inquired after Lance and wondered if he sought an academic teaching position. Jeanne was very excited for Lance to take the interview.

She had babbled in her French accent, "I know you are happy at the FBI, but consider how much you could make a difference teaching les étudients!" She had the habit of inserting French into her English, which Lance adored. In fact, they frequently spoke French together, as it was one of Lance's several languages.

He barely had any time to consider the offer at the moment, but he had to admit, he was tempted. He wondered if he would feel this way if Booth were still around. He did think to himself, Perhaps I could teach at Georgetown and do contract work for the Jeffersonian. I could scrap the FBI as a middleman. Note to self, ask Cam if that would be a possibility.

Lance swung around the corner and nearly charged Michelle.

"Oh hello, Michelle, sorry. I was lost in thought. C'mon in." He opened the door to his office and followed an amused Michelle in. She always seemed tickled by Lance.

"Have a seat. So, Cam mentioned you had something you wanted to discuss? Just so you know, nothing you say to me leaves the room." He smiled encouragingly at the teenager, who was regarding him with a penetrating but friendly stare.

"Thanks, Dr. Sweets. I appreciate you seeing me. I told Cam it was about Dad's passing, and while I am still sad about that, I actually wanted to ask you about something else."

"Anything," Lance said slightly taken aback.

"Well. This is going to sound crazy, but I'm…thinking about having sex with my boyfriend."

Lance stuck out his bottom lip. Not what I was expecting. He tried not to smile. Sometimes he loved teenagers. For them everything was new and interesting, and in a way, Lance had never really shaken this impression of the world himself. He was naturally curious and enthusiastic, despite the fact that life had burned him many times.

"Ok, why did you come to me? Is your boyfriend pressuring you?" Lance inquired.

"No! No, not at all. I…I just don't want my friends to know and you know, get their judge on. I certainly can't talk about it with Cam—she will freak! And she wants me to discuss sex with my gynecologist, I'm mean, come on!"

Lance did laugh now, because Cam was extremely endearing as a new mom of a 16 year old. "Ok, ok." Cam would kill me if she knew what we are talking about, he thought. "What did you want to ask me about, Michelle?"

"Well, the truth is I already had sex with my boyfriend a few days ago." She cringed. Lance coughed. Man, sometimes being a psychologist was awkward. "What I wanted to ask was, is there something wrong with me? I've waited for sex all this time—almost 17 years—and I…I don't like it!"

"You don't like it." Lance parroted, confused at the direction this was taking.

"Frankly, it sucked! It was awful. It hurt and it was awkward as all get out!"

Lance couldn't help but laugh again. He hoped he wasn't being unprofessional. But he supposed this is what happens when you become too involved in your coworkers' lives. You get to spend the afternoon explaining to their teenage daughters that virginal sex is not all that.

"Michelle, I assure you, your first time was completely within the norm."

"Really?"

"Really. Nearly everyone's first time sucks. For women it tends to hurt like hell and for men…well its just plain embarrassing."

"Was it like that for you?" Michelle asked.

Lance contemplated how to best answer, his mouth set in a half smile. "Yes, it was terrible. And I must have been terrible, because she never called me back!"

He made light of what was actually a rather horrible memory. The first woman he had had sex with—his first love, in fact—had seen his scars and been repelled. He had tried to contact her for weeks after, and she had completely shut him out. But this hadn't been his first sexual experience. He looked at Michelle. He certainly was not going to tell Michelle that unlike her, his first encounter with sex had not been consensual at all.

Michelle smiled then frowned. "I dunno, I'm kind of regretting my decision. But I can't take it back. Now my boyfriend talks about sex all the time, and how much he wants to do it again. I'm not sure I ever want to again."

Lance turned to her seriously, "Michelle, you are a responsible, self assured, precocious person. I think after some reflection, you'll know whether or not you are ready to pursue a healthy, safe" Michelle rolled her eyes, which Lance ignored, "sexual relationship with your boyfriend. Whatever you choose, he will have to respect, or you will kick him to the curb. Your body, your choice."

"Thanks, Dr. Sweets. If I am ready, will it get better?"

Lance perhaps over-enthusiastically nodded and said, "Oh yes. It gets…amazing. But like many things in life, it takes practice."

Michelle stood up, and shook Lance's hand, thanking him again. As she was leaving she turned back and said, "I think I am ready."

Lance responded, "Well then, I think you should consider telling Cam. Negotiating a sexual relationship can be tricky, as you're already learning. I think she could help. She wants to help."

"I know. Thanks." Michelle left.

Lance sighed and sank down into his chair. The topic of sex made him think of Daisy, and how much he missed curling up next to her at night. Things had felt so right when they were together. But the door on their life together had closed. He wanted lie down on the couch in his office and go to sleep, but instead he called Professor La Fleur. It was now time to consider the window that had opened in his professional life. He would take the interview.