#Brennan really went for it worth her description

[everythingelseisspokenfor]

I feel like the world deserves a picture of rocker ayda! It would be a disservice to Fig if I didn't draw it.

[the-ice-sculpture]

Books I read in April 2021

*assume all the book are aimed at an adult audience unless specified otherwise in the description

The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling ★★★★★ (4.5*s) 📖 Sci-fi/Horror. 432 pages. A futuristic caving survival story. Also has giant worm creature things. The main character finds herself a deal: do a highly dangerous expedition into an unknown cave for weeks on end to get rich enough to leave her desolate planet behind. Except that now she’s in the cave she’s beginning to have second doubts about whether she can trust the person who’s guiding her. There’s plenty of tense action, increasing horror (psychological and physical), a focus on the relationship between the caver and her handler (there’s a tiny element of eventual sorta f/f enemies to lovers here), and a whole lot of revelations along the way. It has nice short chapters and great pacing, and is easy to read without feeling simplistic or undeveloped. There weren’t enough small details and descriptions to make it feel like the author was a seasoned caver/climber – it was more like an absence of super specific knowledge rather than anything jarringly wrong though. But I went into this as someone who has done a fair amount of caving/climbing so it would be hard to satisfy me on that front. But overall this was really engrossing and original and such a ride from start to end.

Cowboys and Indies: the Epic History of the Record Industry by Gareth Murphy ★★★☆☆ (2.5*s) 📖 Non-fiction about music. 382 pages. An overview of the whole history of the record industry in roughly chronological order, discussing the technologies that allowed music to be recorded, influential businessmen, how record labels came to be developed, how the music industry evolved and so on. This took me over a month to read. I’m glad I read it because it was informative and will come in useful for my Rockstar AU (even if it ends up being in more indirect ways), but it definitely wasn’t the kind of book I could breeze through. For one thing, there’d be too much information for me to absorb, and for another thing, while the writing style isn’t dull, I wouldn’t describe it as particularly engrossing or full of character either. There’s not really much discussion going on, it’s more about laying down the facts. So all in all, it’s kind of dry (not horrendously so though) but does the job.

The Voyage of the Basilisk by Marie Brennan (The Memoirs of Lady Trent #3)  ★★★★☆ 📖 Adventure/Fantasy. 370 pages. Studying dragons, going on worldly expeditions, and anthropology.  Set in an 1800s-feeling world similar to ours only with (non-magical) dragons, the main character’s job is to scientifically research and study dragons. This series is pretty much everything I wanted Fantastic Beasts to be. In this third instalment, Isabella & co voyage across the seas to study giant sea serpents and investigate how closely they’re related to other dragon species.  It’s fairly optimistic in tone, very adventurous (remains me of Around the World in 80 Days in some aspects), and the writing style is elegant without being dense. There’s a lot of humanity to it without overlooking the more negative aspects, and there are nice friendships that develop along the way. There’s also explorations of different cultures, a tiny bit of archaeology, sprinkles of humour, and the pacing is medium-slow. I should probably point out that the focus is very much on the journey and adventure rather than just the dragons or the characters though. Another thing – how great is it to have a book for an adult market which has illustrations inside? I wish more books did this because it adds such a nice touch to the reading experience, especially in this genre where the only illustration you usually get is a map at the start.

One to Watch by Kate Stayman-London ★★★★☆ (3.5*s) 📖 Contemporary Romance. 424 pages. Before describing the premise, I’d like to point out that this book is self-aware, and it does present the setting as a multi-faceted nuanced thing. This is about a plus-sized model who becomes the star of a reality show based on The Bachelorette. Except it’s about more than that because it's also about discussions of fatphobia, the general lack of diversity in those types of shows, self-acceptance and self-worth, and the fakeness (sometimes realness too) of reality TV. It’s light-hearted and easy to fly through, with an easy to root for main character. I didn’t really care for any of the romances (though it’s incredibly rare for me to) since they all felt like they were developing too fast and like they barely had time to get to know each other (to be fair, this is probably typical for these kinds of shows, and I don't think there'd be room for slower development without massively adding to the word count), but it's still an enjoyable read. There are also excerpts from group chats and blogs etc about the goings-on of the show which made it feel like you're involved in the spirit of watching the show as well as getting the experience from the main character’s POV, which was a nice bonus.

Abandoned:

How Music Works by David Bryne 📖  Non-fiction about music. p166/366. Very hit and miss. Some chapters were fascinating and enlightening and really altered my perspective and understand of music and the philosophy of it. Other chapters were... dull. The good parts were amazing, but the rest of it was tedious and it took me over a month to wade almost halfway through the book. I got a lot of ideas and understanding out of it, but I couldn’t push through anymore.

A Man Called Ove by Fredrick Backman 📖 Hard-hitting Contemporary/Feel-Good. p173/337. The grumpy old neighbour from hell is forced to adapt to life again when he gains some quirky new neighbours. It’s kind of similar to A Wonderful Life, and Ove follows a similar (but more grey and nuanced) character arc to the old man from Up. It’s in parts sad and in parts more on the funny side. There’s nothing I can point to that was specifically wrong with this (though apparently I’m fine with fictional murderous characters, but not with fictional cat kickers?), but despite how well-loved this book is, I just increasingly didn’t have urge to pick up the story again. The pacing is pretty slow and my investment dropped. I’d still give other stuff by this author a chance though.

Still reading:

Amberlough by Lara Elena Donnelly The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix

[rebaobsessivelywrites]

The Profiler in the Therapist (ch 4)

You can find this entire fic here on AO3.

Fandom: Bones (TV) and Criminal Minds (TV)

Entire Fic Description:

Dr. Lance Sweets is no longer the innocent eager psychologist he was a little over a year and a half ago. His time as a prodigy profiler at the BAU was a blessing. His time in a serial killer's basement was not.

Now, scarred but healed, Sweets is 'retired' to calmer job in the FBI as a therapist. As he helps others, he helps himself. But... is it enough? What will he do when one of his most fascinating (unwilling) patients asks for help on a case? How will his new team take his past as his secrets slowly start to come out?

Entire Fic Warnings: cannon-typical violence, past torture, panic attacks, PTSD, serial killers

Chapter word count:  4,071

Chapter warnings: nothing? let me know if I’m wrong

Summary: Part one of a two part social fluff plot. Sweets hangs with Reid and a (ahem) other friend in LA, and he decides to observe his two problem patients in a work-free environment.

Please read the fic! First chapter, previous chapter, next chapter, master list. And let me know if you want to be tagged.

The months following Christmas were quiet, much like the month leading up to the holiday. Sweets heard little about cases, from either team, however it was in no way truly calm… after all, Hotch was still stressing over the Reaper, along with the rest of the BAU, and the Jeffersonian team was still searching fruitlessly for Gormogon.  Despite that, very few people seemed to be murdered in that first month, and it was nice to see both teams taking a breather. Which, Sweets reflected, was relative. The Jeffersonian had been doubling down on cold cases and unidentified remains, and the BAU had been flying hither and yon giving recruitment talks, filling their days pouring over their own collection of cold cases, and consulting with various other FBI teams.

So, it was busy, but quiet.

That hadn’t lasted long, at least not for the BAU, as they were called out to Los Angeles in early February. Sweets found out through his usual means; one of the team members called to let him know they’d be out of town and where they were going in case he needed them. He found out about the end of the case in the same manner… however, it was a little more surprising.

It was early in the afternoon the very next day. Sweets was settled behind his desk, reviewing his notes on a certain an agent and consultant, who were due in a few minutes, when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, frowned, and answered, “Reid? What’s up?”

“Hey, Lance,” the other doctor greeted happily, “Nothing much. We wrapped up the case.”

“Already?” Sweets sat back, surprised.

“Yeah,” Reid gave a light huff, “It was a bit of luck… and bad luck. See, we thought the killer was a male vampirist, potentially someone with Renfield’s syndrome. It frequently comes with schizophrenia, so we thought they would be simple to spot, but the killer was actually a friend of one of the victims. She was manipulated by a rock star’s assistant.”

Sweets frowned in slight confusion, “Where was the bad luck in this?”

“Well,” he sounded hesitant, “JJ went to go talk with the victim’s friend before we knew that the killer was female, and… the manager who was manipulating her hit JJ with a shovel.”

“What?!” his eyes went wide.

“I should have gone with her…” the profiler sounded guilty.

Sweets knew about the history with the two agents and how splitting up… never seemed to turn out well with them, but this was a little far-fetched. “Spencer,” he sighed, “There’s no way you could have known.”

“I know,” the genius sighed as well, “Everyone has already made sure I know that.”

“Is she ok?” Lance ventured.

“Yeah; she’s cleared to fly and everything.”

“Good,” he smiled in relief. After a moment of comfortable silence, Lance decided to cut to the chase. He knew Spencer well enough by now to know that he had something else on his mind. “What else is up?”

“Um, well… I’m not flying back with the team. I got invited to dinner by a friend, and I saw that Dr. James Fallon of the University of California, Irvine School of Medicine, is doing a talk tomorrow about his latest research. In fact,” he paused to clear his throat, “I was wondering if you were interested in going with me.”

Sweets blinked in surprise, “In California? Reid…” Did the profiler expect him to fly out there? While Dr. Fallon was one of the best neuroscientists in the field and the two friends had talked several times about attending one of his lectures together, it was in California. Tomorrow.

“It’s Saturday tomorrow, so you don’t have work,” Reid persisted, “I mean, you’ll have to reschedule with Rossi, but he won’t mind, and I’ll pay for your tickets, and—”

“Whoa there, Spence,” Sweets jumped in, “You can slow down; I get the idea.” He shook his head at himself. There was no way he could actually resist the spur of the moment suggestion; despite the insanity of it, domestic flights weren’t that expensive and he did want to go. It sounded fun. “I’ll look into getting tickets after my next appointment.”

After a beat, the genius choked out, “Really?” sounding thoroughly surprised.

Sweets smiled fondly, “Why not? I haven’t gotten to see you for a few weeks now, and we have always talked about it…”

“Awesome!” the other young man nearly cheered, “I’ll pay you back.”

Sweets twisted lips down in an attempt at a serious expression, despite the fact the other profiler couldn’t see him, “We’ll see.”

At that moment, his door chose to open with a light click, and Agent Booth’s voice drifted in (“Oh, come on, Bones!”) followed swiftly by the man himself and, a moment later, his partner.

“Sweets—” Reid protested on the other end of the phone.

“I’ve got to go, Spencer,” he interrupted his friend, eyes on his patients, “I’ll call you once I’ve bought tickets.”

While he spoke, the partner pair settled onto the couch, observing him on the phone with curiosity.

“Fine,” the genius allowed, trying to sound grumpy despite the clear smile in his voice, “Bye, Lance.”

“Bye,” he returned with a brief smile. He then swiftly flipped his phone closed, scooped up his file, and stood up to move around his desk in one smooth motion. He gave the pair waiting for him a sheepish smile, “Sorry about that.”

“Are you going to a game?” Booth asked, leaning forward slightly.

Sweets, however, frowned in confusion, “A game?”

“Yeah! A sports game,” he gestured emphatically towards the therapist, “You said you were buying tickets.” Beside him, Dr. Brennan rolled her eyes.

“Oh, no,” Sweets corrected, settling into his chair, “I’m buying plane tickets.”

While Agent Booth seemed a little put off, it was Dr. Brennan’s turn to perk up, “Where are you going?”

“California,” he smiled at her, “The UC Irvine School of Medicine, to be specific. A friend and I are going to attend a lecture.”

“Really?” the anthropologist smiled back, “By whom?”

“Dr. James Fallon. He’s a neuroscientist who studies—”

“Psychiatry,” she finished with clear disappointment, “I’ve heard of him.”

Internally, Sweets rolled his eyes at the FBI consultant. She still refused to accept the validity of his field. Externally, he simply kept smiling and decided to elaborate slightly, “He has made several interesting discoveries in regards to imaging various mental disorders.”

Brennan nearly scowled and opened her mouth to, no doubt, begin refuting the other doctor’s discoveries, but Booth clearly saw the signs and jumped in to avoid a repetition of the old argument. “You’re flying all the way to California just to attend a lecture?” he asked incredulously.

Sweets shrugged in reply, “It’s all we have planned at the moment, but my friend is a Caltech graduate, so I’m sure he’ll insist on showing me around LA. However,” he continued swiftly before they could stay off track, “Let’s get started with the session.”

Was it wrong that he took a strange form of satisfaction from Booth’s groan and Brennan’s disgusted huff? I mean, he mused, they do make my job very difficult.

--

Bright and early the following morning, Sweets found himself dragging his sorry ass off the plane, glaring at the pink-tinged sky visible outside the LA-X window. In his professional opinion, it was way too early. It was the weekend; normally he was able to spend this time lazing in bed reading a good book, but instead he had gotten up before the break of dawn to get a ride to the airport and fly across the country with the sun chasing him all the way. He still felt half asleep, plodding along towards the exit with his small carryon.

That all changed, however, as he passed the “NO RE-ENTRY BEYOND THIS POINT” signs and looked up to catch sight of his friend clutching his messenger bag and waving enthusiastically. He couldn’t help grinning and waving back.

Yes, it was early… but it was so worth it.

“Spencer,” he greeted warmly, giving the older genius his customary shoulder punch in greeting. (Morgan had definitely rubbed off on Sweets…a fact that the occasionally mischievous agent was inordinately proud of.)

As tradition dictated, Reid gave him his best fake annoyed look, wrinkling his nose, before swiftly breaking out into an even larger grin. “Hi, Lance,” he returned, “Ready to see Los Angeles?”

Sweets grinned impossibly wider, “As ready as ever. I hope you’ve got a plan for what you’re going to cram in before Dr. Fallon’s lecture.”

Reid’s eyes downright sparkled. “Oh, I have a few ideas. Come on,” he started moving away, motioning Lance to follow, “First, though… The friend I visited last night offered to ferry us around on the condition she get to buy us breakfast.”

“That seems a little backwards,” he commented, slightly confused, as he followed Reid.

He chuckled, ears distinctly turning red, “Well, I guess it’s logical to her,” he glanced over at his friend, “She’s, uh, rich.”

Sweets felt his eyes widen with realization. During a stalker case they worked while Lance was still on the team, Morgan had off handedly mentioned a similar case they had handled in LA a few years before he or Prentiss had joined. A case where Spencer had grown quite close to the victim while protecting her.

He turned and gave the genius a teasing grin, “This friend wouldn’t happen to be Lila Archer, would she?”

Spencer’s steps faltered for a moment, “How did you… Derek told you, didn’t he?”

“Right in one,” he chuckled, “Although, to be honest, it was relevant to the case we were working at the time.”

“The Michael Hicks case,” he guessed again, heaving a long-suffering sigh.

“Yep,” Sweets grinned sideways at him, “You’re pretty good at this guessing thing.”

“You’re not exactly making it hard,” Reid snarked back, pushing through the glass door, letting a slight breeze roll in. Sweets shook his head fondly and followed him into the Californian dawn and over to a nondescript black SUV with tinted back windows. Reid swiftly ushered him into the front seat, greeting the driver, before sliding himself into the back with the movie star herself. Only after both doors were shut did he greet Lila as well, and introduce her to Sweets.

Sweets smiled at her, twisting around in his seat, and took her proffered hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Archer.”

She shook her head and chuckled. “Please, Dr. Sweets,” she urged, “Call me Lila. Any friend of Spencer is a friend of mine.”

“Then you should call me Lance,” he returned warmly. “Spencer tells me you’re set on feeding us.”

Lila glanced at the man in question, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “If Spencer had his way, you’d have seen half the city before he even thought to find something other than coffee.”

Sweets outright laughed at that. Yeah… he mused, grinning at the genius’ affronted look, Spencer and his coffee… That sounds about right.

“Besides,” Lila barreled on, grin still firmly in place, “It’s my day off and I know the best breakfast place in town.”

--

Sweets had been 100% converted to a Lila Archer fan. She was amazing. First she took them to a wonderful family owned breakfast and lunch place just a few miles out of LA proper, near the beach. It was obviously an older building and a little run-down, but it was well maintained and had a wonderful homey feel to it. Similarly, the food had obviously been made with love and was the best thing the profiler had eaten in a long time. Spencer agreed wholeheartedly with the assessment, explaining that Lila had shown him the place nearly three years ago and that he came whenever he could.

After that, Lila had insisted that they needed to see Hollywood (“It’s the city of stars, Spencer! You can’t just take Lance to the colleges.”) She had dragged them to her current set and shown them the hustle and bustle of life behind the camera before shooing them off to see Hollywood Boulevard—but not before extracting a promise from Spencer that they would actually go and a promise from both of them that they’d have lunch with her.

Let it be said that Lila had a stubborn streak a mile wide and a glare to be reckoned with. Even though she wasn’t joining them—due to the inevitable swarm that followed her every move—she was still able to dictate their agenda. It was rather incredible.

Spencer, for his part, had not seemed overtly upset at having his plans subverted and entertained himself and Lance with the history behind the iconic locations along the street. At one point, in front of the Chinese Theatre, he collected quite a crowd of tourists as he expounded on the many conflicting stories of how the tradition of imprinting and signing concrete by celebrities had started. The young genius had been quite baffled by the attention, and Sweets laughed for several minutes once they had moved on down the street—especially when he noticed a few of the tourists were still following them, as though hoping for another historical analysis.

“But I don’t know that much,” the genius had complained, “It’s not like I’m an expert; I only read a few books after Lila insisted I go here the first time.”

“You may not be an expert, Spence,” Sweets had shot back, leaning against a wall, subtly gasping for breath, “but the average person can’t recite the book written by an expert they only read once.” The look on Reid’s face—full of acquiescence, but frustrated and uncomfortable all the same— had merely set him off again, clutching at his stomach as he laughed himself silly. He didn’t even mind the incredulous stares from the swirling sea of passing tourists. It was just too funny.

After he had recovered somewhat, they wrapped up their tour and met Lila’s driver, a pleasant man named George, who struck up a conversation about astrophysics—of all things—as he drove them to the restaurant of Lila’s choice for an early lunch. Apparently his son was planning to go into the field, but was incapable of explaining anything, so he had taken to quizzing Spencer whenever he came to visit.

Honestly, Lance found this just as amusing.

Lunch found the trio in a private room in the back of Lila’s favorite lunch spot—when she didn’t have to eat on set. It was far fancier than the breakfast place, and smack-dab in paparazzi central, but served high quality American fair and catered to tourists and celebrities alike.

Lila had been delighted to hear that they had followed through with their promise and had quizzed them—though mostly Lance—on their impressions. The therapist was relieved, however, when the actress decided she was satisfied with their stories (and finished laughing at Spencer becoming an impromptu tour guide) and changed the subject.

“Lance!” she turned from a bright red Spencer to look at the other profiler, “You work at the FBI too, right? With the BAU?”

“Ah, yes,” Lance blinked a few times before catching up to the shift in conversation, “And no. I used to… however, I’ve moved away from field work recently. I’m currently a physiatrist and therapist for the DC office.”

“Really?” she leaned forward in interest, “How come?”

There was a beat of frozen silence. Sweets cleared his throat awkwardly and glanced at Reid before turning his attention to pushing a tomato around his plate. Thankfully Reid got the message loud and clear and murmured quietly, “We have a very dangerous job.”

Sweets didn’t look up, but he heard realization dawn on the young star with a sharp intake of breath. “Oh,” she breathed quietly, “I’m sorry.” After a short pause, Sweets was starting to wonder if the conversation was going to fall flat completely, but Lila, being the eternally determined woman she seemed to be, recovered quickly. “So, helping people with personal problems… I imagine that’s quite different from chasing serial killers.”

“Yes,” he agreed, smiling slightly in both amusement and relief, “It is. I do still consult on homicide cases from time to time, though.”

“A grand total of two,” Spencer grumbled.

Lance huffed and glared at his friend, “Hey, it counts!”

Spencer’s lips twitched slightly, but he retained a glum tone as he argued, “They were given to you by two of your patients.”

“If you can even count them as patients,” he shot back, “They certainly don’t act like it.”

“What’s this I hear?” Lila’s eyes were sparkling, “You have problem patients?”

Lance sighed. “They’re an agent-consultant team,” he explained, “both brilliant in their own ways, with one logical to the extreme, the other emotional and instinctual. They’re constantly arguing, but somehow always work well together.”

“They’re in therapy because he arrested her father,” Spencer added helpfully.

Sweets turned to the genius in shock, “How did you…?” Reid gave him a sheepish look. “Garcia hacked into my files, didn’t she?” Reid nodded almost imperceptibly, and Sweets sighed, “I hope she knows that’s very illegal.”

“She only read the information you received with the initial request, before the full file came in.”

“Still illegal.”

“But better,” he pointed out.

Sweets rolled his eyes, “I will believe that Garcia didn’t read information she had access to when a pig flies up to meet the metaphorical jumping cow.”

Across the table Lila burst out laughing. Both geniuses turned to look at her in shock for a moment before Sweets turned to Spencer, a smile and remark ready, only to find the profiler observing the star with a fond expression.

Well, that answered that question.

“I think I’d really like to meet Ms. Garcia sometime,” Lila smiled, “The more I hear about her the more I like her.”

“I’m pretty sure she’d like you too,” Lance commented, before giving Spencer a meaningful look (now that he wasn’t focused on Lila).

The genius flushed and glared as Sweets, but agreed, “Yeah. I’m actually a little afraid of what the two of you could accomplish together.”

Lila seemed pleased, but turned back to Sweets, “Back to your problem patients… what makes them difficult?”

He frowned at her and considered his options briefly. After a moment, however, he decided that the problem he was having didn’t compromise their privacy. “They don’t believe I can actually help them, and don’t, in fact, believe they have a problem. They frequently refuse to participate in activities and I… I’ve never heard them talk about themselves.”

“Isn’t that,” it was Lila’s turn to frown, “the whole point of therapy?”

“No, I mean, they talk about feelings sometimes, or a piece of their lives, but it’s always… connected to their only point of commonality—”

“Work,” Spencer interjected helpfully. “Based on what I know about Dr. Brennan, it doesn’t surprise me.”

“You saw her once,” Sweets complained, “at a lecture.”

“Take them somewhere else,” Lila threw in from left field, effectively cutting off any friendly bickering. After both doctors had turned to look at her in surprise, she shrugged self-consciously, “I mean, if all they talk about it work, put them somewhere where they can’t.”

“Are you sure you’re a movie star?” Sweets half-joked, “You wouldn’t make a bad therapist.”

He was rewarded with the memorable experience of causing a popular celebrity to blush crimson. A meaningful look later, and his friend followed suit.

Yes. He was definitely a Lila Archer fan.

--

They parted ways with Lila in the restaurant, promising to visit again—and in Spencer’s case, call. Sweets was practically giddy with the discovery of the ongoing non-relationship his friend had with the star and was thoroughly disappointed that he’d be unable to act like an excited kid about it with Garcia and/or Morgan. But… if Spencer hadn’t already shared, it wasn’t his place.

George had happily ferried them to the Irvine School of Medicine and promised he’d be back to pick them up and take them to their hotel. Knowing it was under Lila’s orders—er… request—they didn’t bother arguing. The lecture itself was fascinating, covering Dr. Fallon’s recent discoveries in the neurology of psychopaths. Following the lecture, the pair hung around for nearly an hour, listening to students and experts alike quiz him on his research. They even contributed a few questions of their own.

From there, they wandered campus for a few hours before calling George and finally returning to the comfort of Spencer’s hotel room. It had been a long day, but Sweets was feeling satisfied rather than exhausted. He and Spencer curled up on their respective beds—Sweets with work and Spencer with a book.

The room itself was pleasantly warm from solar gain, as was the décor—with an earthy red wall paper and beds with soft gold comforters. They pulled the drapes, allowing only the filtered sunlight that slid through the curtain and the simple incandescent lamps to light their work. These various sources of warmth, physical and metaphorical, seemed to settle into Sweets’ very being and he found himself smiling for no reason as he typed up tedious physiological reviews and evaluations. It was this fulfilled sort of mood that allowed him to knock off all of the work he had brought with him, and do some serious brainstorming about a few problems.

Spencer on the other hand was conked out on his bed, fast asleep with his book lying forgotten on his chest. Based on the case, followed by a night with Lila and an early morning and busy day with him, Sweets was not surprised,

Smiling absently once again, he flicked through his notes before settling on his most recent session with Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth. That reminded him… He reached for his phone and dialed a familiar number.

A moment later the ringing stopped and a slightly sleepy voice filtered through, “You’ve reached the home office of awesomeness, how can I help you?”

“Pen, it’s,” Sweets paused to glance at the clock seeing that it was seven, “only, like, four in DC. What have you been doing?”

“Lance!” she perked up a bit, “I hope California has been nice.”

“It’s great. Still, though, why are you so tired?”

“Oh, I was just up late last night, wrapping up a non-BAU project,” she sighed. “But, anyway, what’s up?”

Lance smiled and told her about his day, minus Lila. She laughed herself silly, hearing about Spencer the Tour Guide. But, finally, he reached the reason he had called, “Listen, Garcia, you can’t hack my files.”

“I didn’t read your files!” she objected vehemently, before tacking on more sheepishly, “I just read the ‘reason for referral’ for the wonder duo.”

“That’s still bad, Pen…” Sweets sighed.

“Look, I’m sorry. I won’t touch it anymore. Pinky swear,” she pleaded. Sweets just smiled to himself and stayed silent. “Oh, ok, fine!” she huffed at him after a long moment. “It’s just,” she whined, “I’m curious about them.”

Sweets smiled to himself at her tone. “What if you could help me with them?”

“What?” she was, for once, lost for words.

“I’ve decided I need to observe them in an environment where work is a taboo subject, but I need help to do that. If I were to try and do something with them where it’s just me…”

“Say no more, Sir Sweetness, the Queen is here to help!” she declared happily, “What are we doing together?”

“I’m not sure yet—I think I need to talk to them in their next session to get a feel for what would be the best choice— but I imagine it will be an engaging activity you do as a group.”

“Like painting?” Garcia asked hopefully.

He chuckled at her, “Maybe.”

She squealed quietly on the other end of the line, “Wonderful!”

“Can I call you once I have a better idea of when and what?”

“You better, Lancelot!”

As Sweets bid her farewell and eased himself out of bed with the intention of waking Spencer for dinner, he couldn’t help yet another smile. He had wonderful friends… and he might, just might, manage to figure out two of his most difficult patients. Thanks to Lila Archer. He grinned wider, shaking Spencer gently by the shoulder.

This had been one fantastic Saturday.