P. Stormcrow

Finn sat on the all-too-comfortable couch in Dr. Laurent’s office, refusing to succumb to the temptation to relax and slump into the soft cushions. It was a ploy, of course, to get his patients to lower their guard and she would not fall into such an obvious trap.

“How has your studying been going?”

The question threw her off. No, wait. It made sense. Doctors always started with small talk first. Then he would lead them back to two cases she had already worked and the near-death experiences she went through while doing so. Or so she guessed.

She could do with the lighter conversation if it would help fill up the hour-long session.

“Fine.”

No. One-word answers would not use up the time. She swallowed her pride and leaned forward, bracing her elbows against her knees. “That book you suggested…”

The doctor eased into the armchair on the other side of the low coffee table and made a small hum to show he was listening, but said nothing, waiting for her question to form instead.

She chewed her lower lip before she tried again. “The creature in the stories… they can’t be all real, can they?”

He folded his hands in his lap, over the notebook that she was certain was already half-filled with scribbles about her. “The fact is, Agent Reed, we don’t know. We have no way of verifying until we encounter them.” A small sigh escaped him. “But that’s not the important part of the book. I understand you studied computer science at M.I.T. for your undergrad?”

Of course would have read up her background. “Fat good that did me,* Finn muttered her breath but bobbed her head. She could not deny that he had her by her curiosity now.

“And did they teach you specific programming languages?”

“Sometimes,” she answered a little too fast, but she grinded to a halt before she uttered her next words as realization dawned on her. “But most of the time, it’s in service of teaching a concept, an algorithm. You’re talking patterns and rules here.”

Dr. Laurent beamed with pride. “Precisely.”

“So like what? Not all fairies exist, but the important thing to know that if we encounter one, they’ll never lie, but will twist the hell out of the truth?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Though I did not say that they’re not real either.”

Finn was about to ask about their resident brownie, but held back the question. If the case with Sunny taught her anything, it was that sometimes it wasn’t worth it to rock the boat on something that was working. She tried a different tack instead. “But how do we know that would even work?”

Dr. Laurent gave her another patient smile, but it seemed a little more grim. “There’s been many iterations of The Strangers throughout history. Court magicians. Hunters—”

“Inquisitors?” Finn interrupted, with skepticism in her voice now.

For the first time, the doctor’s lips did curve downwards into a full frown. “Yes. Them too. There is as much darkness as light in the past of those that stand for humanity against supernatural forces.”

“Woah.” She held up her hands. “This is not some grand superhero gig. It’s a job.” Some FBI agents likes to think of themselves as sort of white knights, but she knew full well that there was plenty of dirty work they did too.

The older man across from her chuckled, breaking the gloom that had seemed to enter the office. “Fair enough.”

Relieved that he would not attempt to persuade her otherwise, she dropped her hands and sank back just a smidgen. “So you’re saying someone at some point in the past has vetted what’s in the library below?”

“Yes, that is a good way of putting it. We can’t verify individual pieces of information but we can be somewhat confident in those patterns and rules, as you call them.”

It made sense. And remarkably, Dr. Laurent was being straight-forward with her for once. No question to answer her questions, just a normal conversation.

If she could consider any of this normal. A month ago, she would have chalked this all up to some discussion of a nerd’s game.

A sudden nudge by something soft almost made her leap from the couch. She pulled her leg back and looked down to find a Calico cat staring up at her with startling emerald eyes. As she relaxed once more, it returned to nuzzling her calf.

“Ah. Tabitha has taken a liking to you.”

Finn reached down to offer a hand and when the cat didn’t retreat or hiss at her, she petted it. What was it doing here?

Another mewl caught her attention, and she snapped back to see two other feline shapes hovering in the shadows that gathered in the far corners of the office. Three. Dr. Laurent had three of them.

They’re fantastic nulls that suck magic from people they bond to. The high powered one uses cats to temper their power level so they wouldn’t explode their homes by accident.

Jackson’s explanation whispered in the back of her mind, and she studied the doctor in a new light. Just who the hell was he?

Tabitha nudged her hand with much more affection that she expected a cat to show then sauntered off to join the others. Finn alternated between watching the animal and her human brain still scrambling to put into words the questions she wanted to ask.

His gaze also followed the felines’ movements. “I find they can be very helpful during interviews and therapy.”

Her attention snapped to focus. That’s right. He had interviewed Sunny. Did these cats help keep perps they brought in from using their magic during their evaluation? That would make sense. “You mean for people like Sunny?”

“Ah yes. Him too.”

His answer mystified her and made her wonder just who else. But Dr. Laurent didn’t give her time to ask any clarifying questions as he shifted to face her in full. “How are you feeling about your work? Any changes since we last spoke?”

Well, fuck. She couldn’t avoid the question forever, but she had hoped she could delay it for another session. No such luck.

“It’s a job.” She shrugged.

“You’ve shown remarkable dedication for someone who thinks of this as just a job.” He opened the notebook. “From what I have read on reports, you were essential in both cases you worked so far, leveraging your experience as an intelligence analyst. You’ve put your life on the line. And you’ve been applauded for having your partner’s back.” At the latter phrase, he made air quotes with his hands.

Her cheeks burn. She had not expected this. Flattery was not something she handled well, and she drew her gaze toward the floor, wondering if it was Jackson that was singing her praises. It had to be. No one else would write that in their reports. She shrugged again. “I treat my job seriously.”

“Of course.”

She heard more than saw him flip to some other pages. Or did he open a folder?

“I also understand that you had moved for this position. Have you taken in the sights? Met your neighbors?”

Her jaws dropped, and she jerked her head up to stare at him, wide-eyed. “Are you shitting me? You’ve been reading my file. You know that I live in a hell hole of a neighborhood, right?” She had no interest in making friends with meth heads and crack addicts. Not to mention the loud drunks.

“If that is how you feel, why move there in the first place?”

Because it was all she could afford? Because she needed the money for booze? Or perhaps because her asshole ex tied up all their assets? Anger burned in her chest, but she held her tongue. “Cause I just love the sound of my neighbors having a screaming match at one in the morning. Helps me sleep.” Without an adequate answer prepared, she fell back to her sarcasm.

A loud mewl reproached her before the doctor could, but the man closed the file and notebook to lean in. “Agent Reed.”

Her name, accompanied by a stare he pinned her down with that seemed to intensify by the second made her feel like a little girl being interrogated by her dad again. Despite meeting his eyes, she couldn’t quite figure out what color they were, but even that thought faded away as seconds ticked by.

Finn tried not to squirm. But she failed. And as the silence stretched on, she opened her mouth and fell into the trap for the first time. “Look. The job is fine. I am… getting used to it a little more. Jackson has been a great at helping me find my footing and I learn better on in action, anyway. Have there been scares? Yeah. But the risks have always been there. It’s the FBI.”

Dr. Laurent remained quiet through her spiel but watched her with a scrutiny that made her shift in her seat again.

“It is good that you are forming a bond with your partner and even other staff here. But you also need to understand what you are fighting for.” He scribbled something on another notepad underneath his closed book and handed it to him “An assignment. I want you to reach out to three civilian. Say hi, have regular conversations with them. We can discuss your progress in our next session.”

Damn fucking it. She snatched the piece of paper from his hand and counted inside to not explode on the doctor.

“Is that all?” She heard ice in her own voice.

“Yes, I believe we are at time. I will see you a week from today.”

“Sure, Doc,” she muttered through gritted teeth and stalked off.

She needed this like she needed a hole in her head.