Session 2[Jo+Rio]

[Riordan Shonski]

Jo was sat at her desk, reading something that looked suspiciously like a dictionary when Rio entered the therapy room. Interesting, interesting... he filed that away in his mind for possible future use. He couldn't think how right at that moment, but one of the many wonderful things about Riordan was his inventiveness. Made him very good at improvisation, a skill that had served him well in the past and surely would for a long time to come. He didn't bother knocking; she was expecting him, right? Unless the poor scatty woman had forgotten, something that wouldn't at all surprise him. She seemed the type, slightly air-headed, a bit spacey. She'd managed to get a job in the school, although he still hadn't decided whether that was down to her skill as a psychiatrist or her marriage to the other Doctor Hudson.

She didn't seem to be expecting him. Sure, he was five minutes early, but who liked unpunctual people? He was eager, that was all. Not that he'd been keen to prize himself away from Leah; she was cute, and he'd made it his business to spend as much time as possible with her when not in class. It was easy, too: she seemed very... fond of him, often waiting in his room when he got back from a therapy session or a lesson. But that was irrelevant now.

Seating himself nonchalantly on the chair opposite her desk, he gave her a hundred-watt smile. "Afternoon, Doctor. How're you today?" He kept his tone pleasant, charming, no hint of danger or malice in it whatsoever. He was an actor, after all, and he put the skills he learned in the drama lessons to good use. Well, good from the point of view that he used them a lot. They weren't good for the people he used them on. Riordan found it easy- and strived to- appear charming, courteous, and thoroughly pleasant to be around at all times, especially with the people who had access to his diagnosis. They normally just ignored his demeanor, but many found it disconcerting, and that amused him.

He placed his bag carefully between his feet, shuffled his chair forwards, and leaned back, gazing at her with innocent brown eyes the colour of peat, deep and dark. One arm was held across his chest by the sling, but the other lay on his thigh, his hand lazily dangling down between his knees. His smile faded after a couple of seconds, and Rio waited with intense politeness for her to put her dictionary away and greet him properly. It was only good manners, after all.

[Dr. Josephine Hudson]

Jo always liked to have a flick through the dictionary before seeing her patients. She had an extremely extensive vocabulary, she knew, but she could always learn more words. And it helped in awkward situations; when she couldn't think of anything to say she would think of as many different words and meanings for something simple. That always calmed her, although Gabe said that it gave her a...vacant look, which didn't sound good. She didn't quite understand how someone could look vacant. It wasn't like she left her body, for a walk or something. She had to stay with her body, as much as she wished she could sometimes leave it. Maybe just for ten minutes, to think about something. She was just thinking about how that would work (what would happen to your body if someone attacked it when you weren't there? Would it hurt?) when her next patient entered; Riordan Shonski.

She cursed herself as she hastily pushed the dictionary onto her lap and then into her desk drawer; she had been so wrapped up in thinking about being vacant she hadn't noticed the time ticking closer and closer to their session. She liked to prepare herself before, giving herself five minutes to remember everything she could about the patient and note down anything important for the upcoming session. All she could remember, for a minute, was last session. She had tried not to think about that since then; apparently, it was bad to 'dwell on the past'. But... She'd wanted to think about it. It had been scary and confusing and someone had hurt her neck (which still had an odd bruise on, that she tried to cover), but she'd liked it, which was even more confusing.

Blushing, she pulled her notepad and pen from the drawer and shuffled the files around on her messy desk, locating Riordan's instantly from the huge pile. She didn't mind mess, really, because she remembered where she'd put everything. It annoyed Gabe, so she tried her best to tidy things, but to her there was no point. Her office was allowed to be as messy as she liked though, and it sometimes looked...slightly out of control, apparently.Control... She couldn't help but think about it, which wouldn't have been a bad thing if it wasn't for the thoughts that were attached to control, most of them involving her not having it, which she was sure was bad for a psychiatrist. Her thoughts were inappropriate, to be sure. Especially as most of them featured a student, doing things to her that generally weren't considered right. Even if it wasn't a student doing them to his - or her, she didn't want to discriminate - psychiatrist.

No. She wasn't going to think bad things. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that she wasn't meant to mention the conversation she had had with Gabe, and then wrote it at the top of her pad, just to be sure she'd remember. If she was going to write things that she shouldn't do, she might as well write down the rest. Jotting down that she wasn't allowed to scream, she stopped herself before she wrote a list of everything she wasn't allowed to do ever, because that could go on for a while. Instead, she scribbled some things about Riordan, and then looked up at him, an automatic smile springing to her lips. If she didn't smile at her patients, apparently, they disliked her, so she had trained herself to do it.

" I've been fine, thank you Riordan. How have you been? And... Um, is your arm okay? " She blushed. Her husband had inflicted the broken wrist, when he'd 'saved' her from being raped. " Or, your wrist. " It was incorrect if she asked about his arm; his arm hadn't been broken.

Notes.
Don't mention the conversation with Gabe.
Don't scream if something bad happens!

Riordan Shonski. Sadistic PD. Narcissic PD. Emotionally manipulates.

Outfit.

[Riordan Shonski]

As he waited, he wondered. Some ideas had sprung to mind over the past week, when he'd been waiting to be let out of isolation; ideas about Jo. He wondered several things: had she ever really had sex? Possibly. Did she drink? Almost certainly not. Drugs? Definite no. She seemed... soft, as though she didn't understand half the things people said, or why they said them. She refused to make eye contact as well, which Rio would have being willing to put down to simple shyness, but she'd completely failed to catch even the most obvious of innuendos last week, believing that he was talking drugs, which puzzled him. But then, some people were just very literal. Or very naive.

She jumped when he spoke, and shoved the dictionary away into a draw: he had startled her. Riordan tilted his head to one side, watching her. Who read the dictionary while expecting a patient? Who read the dictionary while expecting a patient who had tried to rape them a week ago? He tugged on his lower lip with his white teeth, a gesture that could easily be mistaken for anxiousness; in truth, he was supremely curious about his psychiatrist. His hand tapped the inside of his thigh lazily while he waited for her to reply, his dark eyes fixed unblinkingly, intensely on her. There was nothing menacing or predatory in his gaze, but there was a definite intensity, designed to put people off their stride, that would have unnerved most. He wondered whether she'd notice; he could imagine it worrying her, but on the other hand, he could imagine her not noticing at all.

She shuffled her papers again, and his tapping increased in frequency. This was rude, keeping him waiting like this. His nails made a soft scritch, scritch noise against his black jeans, unnaturally loud in the silent room. And still, he watched her. She pulled out her notepad and pen- what was written on there? He might have to find out himself if she wouldn't tell him- and scribbled some notes on it. Notes, already? Had his entrance really given that much away about him? He doubted it. She was probably writing his name and condition, or something similar. Something boring. And now she was blushing. His smile grew again, became a small smile radiating good intentions. She replied with one of her own, and a question. And another blush. He froze his smile in position, not allowing it to grow. He could work with this.
"I've been OK. Isolation was rough, but it's over now. My wrist still hurts; I have to take painkillers, but it's getting better. Slowly... How's your neck?" This last said slyly, inserted smoothly into the conversation as if in afterthought.

[Dr. Josephine Hudson]

Jo froze at his question; literally, not able to move for about five seconds as she realized something that made her face burn, more than before (and before was quite a lot). However, she had realized that the person that had bitten her neck was Riordan. Which meant that the person who had pulled her hair was Riordan. Which meant that... Crap. She wished that she hadn't known; it would have been a lot better just to wonder who had done that then actually know who it was. Because... No, that was bad. She fidgeted in her chair when she regained the ability to breathe, curling up her legs beneath her and twirling her pen in her hands. Trying to regain a facade of control, she wrote frantically on the paper, pretending that his answers were very important to her, and they were revealing lots about him, when in fact she was writing "Words should go here but I can't think of anything to write I want to curl up under my desk now please", and some other senseless ramblings. As well as not being very useful for future reference, she was reasonably sure that they were grammatically incorrect. And she hated things that were grammatically incorrect.

Trying to control - there was that word again, making her think inappropriate things about her patient, and she shouldn't do that - her thoughts, she considered his words carefully, feeling his gaze burning into her all the while. " I... I'm sorry you were in isolation. Really... You were there for ten thousand and eighty minutes... One million, two hundred and nine thousand, six hundred seconds. " The calculation took only a fraction of a second; mainly because she hadn't just calculated it. She had worked it out repeatedly, while feeling bad that he was there. Isolation would be scary. There'd be nobody to talk to, and you weren't allowed to take a desk in to hide under. And there were cameras, watching you the entire time. She hated being watched; hated being recorded. It was scary. Riordan was watching her; that was scary, but...in a good way, for some reason. It made her feel tingly. Which was something she wasn't allowed to tell anyone, because then she'd lose her job, and so would Gabe, and the school would be shut down.

" And I'm sorry that your wrist hurts... Six weeks with a cast on. That's... " She considered the question carefully, not wanting to get it wrong. Quite simple, though; two weeks, which was ten thousand and eighty minutes, multiplied by three. That was... " Thirty thousand, two hundred and forty minutes. Although you've already had two weeks with it on, so only twenty thousand, one hundred and sixty minutes left! " Hoping that she sounded encouraging, rather than insane, she smiled at him almost desperately. " Um... And in seconds, that would be... Two million, four hundred and nineteen thousand, two hundred seconds left. "

Was there anything else she could calculate to save time before she had to answer his question? No. Damn. " And... My neck, is um... " Jo had planned her answer here: 'Fine, thank you', and then a question about something else, but she couldn't stop herself ask. " Was it you that...bit me? " Looking down at her piece of paper, she realized what she'd written and blushed, tearing it out and tucking it into her pocket. The paper didn't make her look too good.

Notes.
Don't mention the conversation with Gabe.
Don't scream if something bad happens!

Riordan Shonski. Sadistic PD. Narcissic PD. Emotionally manipulates.
Words should go here but I can't think of anything to write I want to curl up under my desk now please and Rio is watching me and he bit me I think and made me tingle and now I want him to do it again but it's illegal and what if I have a panic attack and I don't want to get fired and I should stop writing and actually talk to my patient because that's good

[Riordan Shonski]

She stopped moving; stopped fidgiting, shuffling her papers, doodling... she literally froze. His question had literally stopped her dead. Then she increased her movements tenfold, raising her legs to curl them beneath her, writing furiously on her pad, fiddling with her pen... the idea that mere questions- questions!- could have this effect on her made him want to laugh until he couldn't breathe, until they were forced to lock him up forever... not that they would. Gabriel Hudson would just knock him around and then he wouldn't be so happy, but the idea was appealing. To hide his amusement, he shifted in his seat, untangling his arm from the sling and stretching his arms in front of him in an exaggerated movement, keeping his eyes fixed on her. He withdrew his arms quickly, pulling them back like they were on springs, and replaced his left in the sling, dropping the other backn into his lap. She was bright red, and he was fairly certain that she hadn't known which of them had bitten her. He was also fairly certain that the words she was scrawling in her book weren't of great importance. There wasn't much you could tell about a person from watching them walk in and talk to you, after all.

Then she spoke again. he had to carefully stop his face from contorting into an expression of extreme puzzlement: she'd calculated the amount of seconds he'd been in iso for? Wow. Either she was an absolute, fuckin' genius, or she'd already worked it out. He wasn't sure, but leaned towards the second. She might be headmisstress of the school, she might have graduated from university at a young age, but he was pretty damn sure she wasn't that smart. Which meant she was really rather odd. His gaze roamed over her face as he wondered about her- was there something slightly... the words 'socially awkward' seemed too obvious a fit. Unusual? That would do. There was something unusual, and he was determined to find out what it was. "Thank you. That's really very interesting. You're very good at maths," he purred slowly, still concealing his puzzlement. Riordan wondered if she'd pick up on the hint of sarcasm in his voice. Probably not. Either way, it wouldn't bother him.

"Really? twenty thousand, one hundred and sixty minutes left? That's a relief. If you don't mind, I'll think of it in weeks and days." He kept his voice low, gentle. The woman was, if he was completely honest (which he was, all the time), confusing the hell out of him. Who would calculate six weeks in minutes in order to comfort the student who had had his wrist broken in an attempt to rape her? This was interesting, unexpected, and very welcome. He could think of several ways he could use this to his advantage, and he couldn't wait to start with some of them. And as for his last question? She hadn't answered, but she evidently had more skills of deduction than she appeared to. Smart girl. Maybe she'd be able to deduct that having him alone in the room with her wasn't a good idea, once he'd got started. But for now, take it easy. "I didn't mean to... upset you, sorry about that. I hope you didn't mind too much."
He wondered what was on the paper she'd torn out. She was drawing his attention to it, and he wanted to see. Going by her blush, it wasn't something she'd want him to see, which only made him more curious.

[Dr. Josephine Hudson]

Jo bent her head over the paper again when Riordan commented on her maths talent. She knew that she was a genius at maths, but thinking that made her worry that she was stuck up. She wasn't, she was sure. Just...accepting of the fact that she knew things instantly that had numbers in. Just as accepting as she was of the fact that she remembered everything she read, saw, heard...most things, really, unless she was having a severe panic attack. Despite it being quite helpful in exams, and when she was bored, Jo sometimes wished that she wasn't so talented. When she was younger, the school had told her parents and they'd got excited, and made her have an IQ test. They'd wanted her to take her A-levels early, when she was eight, but she'd refused. What if she'd failed?

They dragged her to a psychiatrist, who'd diagnosed with savant syndrome (and mis-diagnosed her with Aspergers Syndrome), but she didn't see the point. She was a genius, but did her change her life knowing her IQ? No. It just made her stick out at school when she'd moved up a year, and when she'd got her 'own special helper' to come to class to class with her. Her name had been Melissa, and apparently, the point of her was to stop her hiding under the tables when she had panic attacks, and to make sure that Jo didn't leave the class when she got bored. And... She really needed to stay on track. She had been silent for almost ten seconds, unaware that Riordan had spoken after he'd commented on her maths skills.

Blinking, she ran through her memories of that last ten seconds, trying to process what he had said. It was like she was watching a film; still from her perspective, but she could see everything just as well as she'd seen it at the time. Actually, she could usually see it a little better; she wasn't distracted. At the end of the day, she would go through everything important that happened, checking she had done the right thing in every situation. She'd stopped doing that recently, though. Two weeks ago that day, to be precise. She was scared that she'd remember her last therapy session, and then she'd think about why she liked it, and then she'd be weird. Occasionally, it came back to her in flashes... She'd feel as though her hands were trapped, by a stronger, larger pair, and have to look at her own wrists to see that they weren't. However, it didn't make her scared. More... It was more desire then fear, a thought that made her feel slightly sick. Technically, she didn't meet the criteria to be a pedophile: Morph and Riordan were not thirteen or under. It still scared her though.

Trying to bring her mind back to the present, she smiled vaguely at his apology, aware that she had been completely silent for...quite a while. She didn't want to think about how long it'd been, because it might be slightly embarrassing. " Um... Thank you. I am. " Was that the right thing to say? She hoped so. Humans - other humans, she needed to stop thinking of others as a different species - had so many social rules that tended not to make sense. It irritated her. For example, when someone asked you how you were, you were expected to say 'I'm fine, thank you. Yourself?' or something along those lines, just because that was polite, and people didn't want to hear that you were feeling sad. She had trained herself to lie in situations like that, but she was still a little...'off' in social situations, apparently. " And... I don't mind... " She frowned slightly at that. Should she mind?

" I...don't think that... I didn't mind. " No, that was most definitely the wrong thing to say! She would have sworn, if it hadn't been very unprofessional and if she ever swore (except for when she asked Morph what the hell he was doing when he kissed her, but she felt bad about that and was going to apologize at some point). " I mean, I do mind, but it's not... " She sighed. Might as well be honest, although not too honest; Gabe had been clear about that. She wouldn't tell him that she didn't mind at all. " I don't know what to say now... " Her typical response when stressed. Maybe it wasn't considered socially acceptable, but at least it let the other person know where she was: usually, ten steps behind them (metaphorically. If she was actually ten steps behind someone she wanted to be on an equal level with, she'd hurry to catch them up).

Notes.

[Riordan Shonski]

She blushed again when he complimented her, which made him smile. She was sweet, he decided. Nice. He liked sweet girls, they were always... compliant. Riordan eyed her up lazily, taking his time as his eyes roamed over what he could see of her. The huge wooden desk covered most of her body, but she had a nice figure from the chest up, although that wasn't the best part. She seemed distracted by something, staring away into space with a slightly worried expression on her face. He wondered what she was thinking about. Was it even relevant to the session? He wasn't certain, which worried him. He was usually quite good at telling what people were thinking about. It was often him, if they were female. Not always in a good light, either. Some of the males did to, but much less often in a good light. That made him smirk.
He made a mental note to look up some of her mannerisms. He had a hunch that there was more to her behavior than plain oddity, and often his hunches turned out to be correct. He put it down to his awesome skills of deduction. There was a pause while she stared into space and he waited politely. She didn't seem to have noticed he'd spoken. So far, his list was something like:
short attention span
inability to meet eyes
socially awkward
naive
He wasn't sure the last was really a symptom on it's own, thought it might be classified under socially awkward, but there was a distinct difference between literal interpretations and being socially inept. Also, the lack of comprehension when she came to innuendos was unlikely in a woman her age. how old was she? Thirty? Not likely she didn't understand, unless she'd lived under a rock all her life. Somehow, the idea fitted, but he dismissed it. Hello, I'd like to run a school for troubled teens. Sure, what qualifications do you have? I spent thirty years carving pictures of teenage boys into the underside of my rock. Not likely.

Now she looked vaguely sick. His eyebrow twitched. Seriously, what was the woman thinking? And then she jerked back to life, looking slightly embarrassed. Somehow, he thought her reply wasn't down to arrogance. Literal interpretations of things, as he'd mentioned above. Ah, of course. She didn't mind, there was no reason she should mind. Again, literal. That explained the frown. Her next words had a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She didn't mind, did she? She backtracked, then admitted she didn't know what to say. This was great. All he needed was popcorn.
Sitting back, he drawled, "Glad you don't mind. So, therapy for today. What's on the agenda?"

[Dr. Josephine Hudson]

Jo realized something that was not a good thing to realize in the middle of a therapy session. Some would actually consider it a very bad thing to realize in the middle of a therapy session. She had absolutely no idea what they were going to talk about for the remaining fifty-five minutes, which worried her, quite a bit. How had she forgotten to plan that? How? She bit her lip anxiously, trying to think of something. " Well... I thought, maybe... " No. She wasn't letting him pick the topic. Last time that had happened, that had happened, which wasn't good. Well, it was good, but she didn't want it to happen again.

Why exactly didn't she want it to happen again? She frowned, trying to remember. Aside from it being illegal, of course, she couldn't think of any reasons. Oh, and she and Gabe would lose their jobs. No, that was if she talked to Riordan about their conversation. Really, there were no negatives points for if she kissed him. But there had to be some, otherwise she might do it, and then Gabe might yell... There was a negative point, right there. Picking up her pen again, she began to scrawl a list of exactly why she shouldn't kiss her student. Making a mental note to shred it later, she looked up at Riordan as she wrote, and realized that she was supposed to be talking to him.

" Well... For today, let's talk about... " She sighed. She might as well suggest talking about the only thing that was on her mind. " Let's talk about last session. " Hoping that that was the right thing to do (do you discuss rape with rapists?) she bit her lip again, trying to think of an appropriate start to their conversation. " May I ask why you - and Morph, if you can speak for him - attempted, to, um, rape me? " Blushing furiously, she continued to write, and bent her head so it would look like she was taking intense notes. Realizing that he might be able to read the paper, if he could read upside down, she moved the paper onto the desk but bent it in half so the top of the notepad was concealing the words. Luckily, nothing was written on the reverse of the paper; she hated it when patients read their own (or others - worse) notes.

• Gabe will use his scary voice and that would be bad. He doesn't have to know.
  
• It's illegal to do that with students. Nobody has to know.
  
• It will probably hurt, again. I like pain (according to Gabe).
  
• Riordan is a sadistic narcissic possible compulsive liar and he tried to rape me before.

[/ul][/font]

[Riordan Shonski]

Rio watched her, attempting to maintain his expression of polite intentness, but his lips were twitching, and he didn't seem able to stop himself smirking much longer. Biting the inside of his cheek, he folding his hands on his lap and appraised her as she mumbled, seemingly to herself. She didn't seem to know what to talk about. This was priceless; she hadn't planned the lesson. What kind of psychiatrist came into sessions without planning them beforehand?

short attention span
inability to meet eyes
socially awkward
naive
disorganised? - didn't plan session

Riordan leaned forwards now, resting his elbows on her desk. Not too close, but enough to bring his face fairly near hers; he suspected too near for comfort. There, perfect. He smiled into her eyes as he sat there, waiting for her to speak to him, rather than simply mumble away to herself.

But her next words caught him by surprise. His eyebrows flicked upwards, and he blinked. Last session? She wanted to talk about the session where he had tried to rape her? That was unusual, to say the least. But who was he to argue with his psychiatrist? "Ok, let's talk about that," he replied calmly. "Me and Morph were..." Tread carefully here. "Well, I can't speak for Morph, of course, but personally, I did it because... well, I'd just had a really bad day and needed to let off some frustration, and Morph was doing it and I just kind of... went with it." He wasn't in the mood to come up with anything complex, but at add verisimilitude to his story, he allowed his face to relax into an expression of guilty sadness- big eyes, cocked head, downturned lips, the whole works.

[Dr. Josephine Hudson]

Jo looked up from staring at her notes to find her student had moved, closer. The same position Morph was in, last week, when he was holding her arms. The thought made her shiver, for some strange reason, and she pulled her arms back. On second thought, she leant closer, resting her head on her arms. Technically, Gabe hadn't said that she wasn't allowed to be very, very close to her patients. Just that she wasn't allowed to tell them - or anyone, really - about liking pain. After her session, when the two would be in their apartment, he would be sure to ask her how her session had gone. Jo decided that when she gave details, she'd just...leave out the part about wanting to hug him. Like when your parents asked you what you'd done at school, you weren't actually meant to tell them everything you'd done. Just...a few, important details.

She was totally oblivious to Riordan's fake look of guilt. The most complicated facial expressions she could work out were happy (lips turned upwards, sometimes laughing), sad (lips turned down, tears) and anger (shouting). She had learnt more, but she could only recognize them on pictures of humans. It was always different on an actual human face. Jo resisted the urge to get out her pictures of human faces and expressions. She could have held them next to his face, one by one, but most people found that weird. And then their expression changed, usually to 'Confused' or 'Worried'.

But they were only in her desk drawer... It would be very easy just to get them out, and hold them on her lap, to see why Riordan was making his eyes weirdly big, and making his lips turn down but not crying. Maybe he was sad? A weird sort of sad? Which meant that he was sorry for what he had done, and...what? Did that mean he wasn't going to do it again? The thought made her feel sad, and everyone being sad wasn't a good session. She thought about his words, and wondered what she should say. 'It's okay' didn't seem right, somehow. Very...something Gabe wouldn't approve of.

" Why did you have a bad day? " Wait, something he'd said wasn't right. She frowned. Riordan had said that Morph was the one to start it, but that wasn't true. " But you grabbed my hair... Just before Morph um, took my wrists. " She could feel herself blushing at the memory. " And I asked what you were talking about and you said 'Got any ideas yet?' " That was just before he'd kissed her neck, which made her blush more. Jo kept her eyes firmly on Riordan's nose, avoiding his eyes, and refused to let herself lean any closer. They were close now, closer then you should be to people - an arms length away from them - and it made her nervous. The thought that he was probably close enough to kiss her made her want to...what? She wasn't sure if she wanted to run away or lean in. And it probably wasn't possible to do both.

[Riordan Shonski]

She flinched back, but leaned closer almost straight away, and stared him down. At least, it looked like it, but from this distance, it looked more like she was watching his nose. He rested his chin on his hand, watching her with a smirk as he waited for her to speak to him. She had probably noticed that his last few words were downright lies; he blatantly hadn't been the one to start it, but would she pick up on that? She hadn't noticed the puppy eyes, and most people did. Something to add to his list, there:
doesn't register facial expressions
doesn't get tones of voice

This was... interesting. Mentally, he flicked through his whole list, matching it to all lists of symptoms he'd ever seen. It seemed that she could easily be on the autistic spectrum, but nothing as severe as autism. Aspergers? That was a possibility. It worked, definitely. What would happen, he wondered, if he mentioned it to her? If she really did have Aspergers, she wouldn't be able to conceal her reaction as well. Worth a try. But that was for later, this was for now. Reaching out, he grabbed hr hands, almost lazily, from their position on the desk. He turned them palm upwards and slammed the down on the table, holding both her wrists with one of his own hands. With the other, he grabbed her little finger, holding it separate from the others and a delicate position. Easy to break, should something go wrong. And if she was an aspie, she'd be hypersensitive to pain. then he leaned forwards, so close their noses were practically touching. If she was still transfixed by his nose, she'd have to go cross-eyed to carry on staring at it.

Smiling into her eyes, he drawled, "Well, OK. That part about me having a bad day was bullshit. So is a lot of the stuff I've said today, but you don't need to know what." The next came as an afterthought. "Have you got Aspergers Syndrome?"

[Dr. Josephine Hudson]

Jo would have shrieked if she had been allowed to. She managed to keep her voice under control; biting her lip and squeaking slightly with shock. As her hand crunched into the desk, she froze for a second. Mind reading and psychic powers were, to put it plainly, crap. She knew that people couldn't read others mind; scientifically it was impossible. How would the information even travel across, between minds? It wouldn't happen. But... She was just thinking about her hands being held on the desk, and Rio did it. Just coincidence, she told herself. A lucky coincidence. Her hands ached against the desk but Jo took the second to...appreciate the pain. Pulling away from Riordan didn't work, she noticed (with some pleasure) when she instinctively yanked her hands away. Just made her finger hurt, where he was holding it.

Looking up from her hands, she noticed with shock how close the two were. That wasn't allowed. You shouldn't be within an arms length of someones space; it upset them. Jo jerked her head away from his and stared at him as he spoke, breathing faster. Interesting...he appeared to be continuing the therapy session. Answering her questions. For a moment, she wondered if she had hallucinated the entire incident, before she processed his words. Most things he had said were 'bullshit'? That wasn't good. He had lied to her... She felt vaguely upset. Did that mean that he wasn't the one that had bitten her neck? Frowning with confusion, she blinked rapidly. Showing her fear; that wasn't good. But what emotion should she show? Pleasure? Jo had the feeling that Gabe wouldn't be impressed by that.

" Please let go off my hand. Now. " She glared at Rio, trying to show a mixture of annoyance and scary-ness, which was tricky, because she had no idea how to show those emotions. As she spoke, however, she realized what her patient - her sadistic, evil patient - had just said. ' Have you got Aspergers Syndrome? ' If she had been allowed, she would have screamed with fury. How, how had he guessed her stupid diagnosis? Had Gabe told him? As she couldn't scream, Jo burst into tears and pulled her hands away again, tugging harder when she couldn't free herself.

She could feel herself shaking, from emotions that she couldn't name. Anger, or fear, maybe. How had he guessed her diagnosis? Someone must have told him. What should she say? Jo had no idea what she was supposed to do or say. When she did speak, it was in a deep voice.

" Josephine? No, stop...fluttering your hands at the lights. Good girl. Now, after your last review, we've decided that you don't have autism. No, look at me. Now. Thank you. Yes, you've been doing so well we've changed your diagnosis to Asp- No, come out from under my desk. "
Another voice; higher and more panicked. " She doesn't like change. You said that you'd tell her without using that word"
" For God's sake! I can't use the word change now? Fuck this. "
" Josephine, are you listening? I know that was noisy... Please don't stim when I talk to you. We just wanted you to know that your diagnosis has been...amended to say that you have a condition called Aspergers Syndrome, and savant syndrome. Yes, you remember what that means? Clever girl. "

Jo lent forward, resting her head against the cool wood of the desk beside Rio's (and her own) hands. What had she just said? She hadn't been very...present when she'd spoken. Something bad. She continued to cry, more from confusion now than anything else. He was hurting her hands and guessing things that she didn't want him to guess. This was stressful, and she wanted her hands back so she could calm down but he wasn't letting go. Maybe if she stayed still long enough he would...

[Riordan Shonski]

She looked like she was trying not to scream. Why was that? If it was him in that situation, he'd be making as much noise as possible. Not screaming, obviously, but still. She was doing the opposite of what he'd expected. But something was going right, at least- she wasn't trying very hard to loosen his grip on her hands. Sure, she'd jerked away, but she wasn't screaming, biting, kicking, or generally injuring him, or crying. So she couldn't be all that uncomfortable, right? She did look terrified, he had to admit. But not without reason; having a guy who must be about six inches taller than you holding you down wasn't an ideal scenario, especially if you had Aspergers, which he was fairly convinced of. Her reaction had set his theory in concrete, so to speak.

Now she was being assertive. He smiled deep into her eyes, and replied with a low, menacing growl; "No." There. Short and not-so-sweet. She'd have to learn to face the real world, and he was here to help her. Or at least, that was what his mind superficially told him. he knew that really, he was simply... well, bored. And he coped wonderfully with boredom, it was just that other people usually didn't approve of the things he found to entertain himself. Except now she was crying, shaking, obviously angry. It was the mention of Aspergers that triggered it, he guessed.

Then something very odd happened. She started talking in a very low voice, words that didn't seem quite her own, words that made absolutely no sense... unless you took them out of context. Was this delayed echolatia? He'd read about it, but never really thought about it much. It seemed likely, though; her parents? Her psychiatrist and a parent? Interesting, whoever it was. Definitely worth remembering.

[Dr. Josephine Hudson]

She was starting to remember something that Gabe had told her when they'd had the conversation that she wasn't allowed to talk about. He had said to 'do whatever's necessary to get free, you hear me? Struggle, bite, kick, scratch, anything'. But then he had said to 'scream like hell' (how did you scream like hell anyway? Hell was a place, to some people even though it wasn't true, and places didn't scream) and 'hope someone comes'. But then he had told her not to scream, something that was confusing her a lot. He had changed his mind after he'd shouted at her... Moving her head, she held it in the air above her fingers. Her finger on her left hand was being held, but she could move her right fingers. Fluttering them slightly, Jo watched the light patterns shift on the desk. It wasn't the same as holding her hand in front of a bright light, like a window, but it still calmed her a little. Made her competely unaware of her surroundings, at least.

If she could just get her hands free, she'd be under her desk, wriggling her fingers in front of her eyes and humming. Well, she could hum here. Sing, even. Was that the right thing to do? Jo began to rock her entire body gently, shifting left and right. The motion was familiar and calming, and she could feel herself relaxing slightly. " We are born like this... " It wasn't really singing; her voice was too monotonous for that. The words sounded nice, though, and she repeated them once, twice, three times before pausing. It was a song she had heard on the radio in Gabe's car, and she didn't want to think about him. What other songs did she know?

She cycled through random songs; picking lyrics she particularly liked and muttering them to herself quietly.
"Scream at me, I'm so far away, I won't be broken again, Pain, I like it rough 'cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all, You know how to work me, all my barriers are going, I know you're still there, watching me..."
The familiar lyrics were comforting, but they were more than just soothing words. They all made sense to Jo, if not Rio. He was probably confused... It was not good practise to sing and rock in front of patients, for sure. And she was calmer now; maybe she should sit up? With an effort, she did so, focusing on the right corner of the room. It was blatant that she wasn't making (or even pretending to make) eye contact, but it was probably allowed to look away in this case. Hopefully. For a moment, she was silent, wondering what she should say. Something about autism, as that seemed to be their last topic of conversation. " 'It seems that for success in science and art, a dash of autism is essential'... Hans Asperger said that. " She had liked that quote when she was younger, used to go around singing it to herself.

" He's an autistic savant. People like him used to be called idiot savants. There's certain...deficiencies, certain abilities that impairs him. "
" So he's retarded? "

Had Riordan seen Rainman? Did he know what she was trying to explain? " I'm not autistic. I'm not impaired. " Jo fluttered her hands slightly but refused to let herself be drawn into the beautiful light patterns. She had to prove that she wasn't autistic. " Let go of my hands now. Or I'll call security. " She was unsure exactly how she'd call security, with her hands being held, but hopefully Rio wouldn't realize that. Shifting in her chair, she pulled her hands away as best she could again, freezing as more pressure was applied to her finger. " You're hurting me. "

((OOC: Born Like This - Three Days Grace. Going Under - Evanescence. Pain - Three Days Grace. The Infant Kiss - Kate Bush. Haunted - Evanescence.))

[Riordan Shonski]

She was twitching her hands underneath his, looking completely and utterly out of it. He followed her gaze to where the shadow of her hands was shifting the light on the desk, and grinned. Self-stimming. So, she was autistic. Or an aspie, at least. He tightened his grip; she could still flutter her fingers, but hopefully it was now painful enough to bring her back to him and her current situation. She was sliding down as far as possible in her chair, looking like she was getting ready to dive under the desk. He didn't want that, and he pulled gently on her hands, forcing her back toward him.

She was saying something, repeating it softly over and over again to herself like a chant. "we are born like this..." it sounded like the lyrics to a song; the words changed, and she seemed to be quoting random lyrics from song she had heard. They were also very apt. 'Pain, I like it rough' was his particular favourite. But it was time to stop this now. He gave a shrill whistle, very close to her ear, and growled, "Pay attention, doctor."

She wasn't listening to him, but he hoped the high-pitched noise was enough to jerk her out of her reverie. This had gone past amusing; quoting Rainman wouldn't keep him from boredom for the rest of the day. She snapped back suddenly, speaking to him once again, but blatantly avoiding eye contact with him. He leaned forwards, holding her still with his hands, and placed his lips close to her ear. "And how, exactly, are you going to call security? You can't get to your radio, and if you were going to scream, you would have. So don't insult me by trying to trick me."