TIME WARP: And now, it's time to talk. (sean)

The psychiatrist didn’t keep valuables or personal photos at the office. However, if he did, there would have been a photo of Alex on his desk. His relationship with the other man had progressed to the “serious” stage, and he wasn’t shy about introducing coworkers to his paramours. But he did keep his personal life tightly compartmentalized when at work.

At work, he was merely the psychiatrist, who also taught the sexual education lecture and handled discipline, and did whatever else Claude, and Eliza before him, felt fit under his job title. Today his job title included investigatory work. There had been a confrontation in the cafeteria earlier and before discipline could be handled, all sides of the story had to be heard.

One by one, he had to speak to the friends of the participants, as well as neutral eye witnesses. The puzzle was coming together slowly, and the telepath was taking notes.

In between meetings, Claude had requested a status update, during which Anastasia had arrived. While he didn’t make it a habit to keep others waiting – in fact he considered it rude –it was unavoidable in certain situations. And it had only been a couple of minutes in duration.

He entered the office, dressed as he always was – pressed suit and shined shoes – and sat down behind the desk. “Thank you for coming down. I trust you know why I called you in?”

He had no interested in the way her wealth affected her appearance and her attitude; he’d spent his childhood around people who were similar, and he’d had them as patients since entering practice. At the moment, all he wanted to do was get a clear picture of this incident and address it with those involved.

Sean didn’t want to hear anything in particular, because he desired only facts. He desired only facts to allow him to make an impartial determination as to the relative responsibility of the parties involved, and to punish or offer therapy (for any underlying issues) as necessary. He didn’t enjoy discipline, but it was part of his job, and he accepted it; even though his goal was rehabilitative punishment rather than purely punitive tasks.

Her mannerisms were above board when interacting with him, as an authority figure, and her surface thoughts were fairly benign, beyond the fact that he knew she was trying to figure out what to say to get out of the situation. That was common enough with students in his office, although the look in her eyes gave him momentary pause. He’d had another student, some years ago, who had been popular and had only a good record with excellent grades; one who had carefully benign surface thoughts in his presence and the same look in his eyes.

The telepath hoped there wasn’t another one of those on the horizon.

“I know they do,” the psychiatrist replied; he even had more patience than many of the faculty when it came to students and their hormonal bouts. “But I’m sure you can appreciate that fighting isn’t acceptable in what should be a safe space.” The students all had to live here, and there shouldn’t be disruptions that like in one’s home.

Sexual orientation and current commitment aside, she was too young for him to take notice, so it was for the best that she abandoned that course of action. At her question, he sat back slightly in his chair, displaying non-confrontational posture. “Why don’t you tell me what it was about?”

Her carefully neutral and practiced thoughts and almost perfect mannerisms weren’t enough to make the psychiatrist probe her mind; he didn’t do that without due cause because it was an invasion of privacy. However, it only raised his suspicion, not of involvement in the incident in the cafeteria, since he had a clear account of that already; no, instead, it gave him suspicion that perhaps he should watch her for a bit. Too reminiscent of Gabriel’s mannerisms, and if he was overly cautious, then the only effort wasted was his own.

But if there was something to watch, he didn’t want to let it slip through his fingers due to fears of wasting time. Those thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind as he settled in to listen to the events as she described them.

He nodded appropriately when she began; he was familiar with what had happened and the key players. But there was still much to be gained with every personal account of the confrontation. He was also aware of most of the inter-student dating, even when he didn’t wish to be, and had known that fact. However, hearing it confirmed was always helpful. “Yes, I knew.”

The psychiatrist had no intention of drawing this along gender lines when it was a matter of clashing personalities and adolescent dating patterns; however, he accepted that with another nod. He heard the intensity of her belief in not blaming her brother, which was understandable; it was also noteworthy because that was the first thought to come up from the placid waters. But he wouldn’t pursue that because it was to be expected.

Instead he focused on the question of punishment. “Fighting is a serious infraction, but nobody will be suspended.” Being suspended from a boarding school, particularly this boarding school required special circumstances, many beyond the imagination of the average person. However, it was the quintessential high school punishment which was why he made mention of it. “I haven’t made my final determination,” although detention and helping the janitorial staff were both on the table.

“I do understand,” the telepath replied. “What you can do is keep a closer eye on your brother if you’re worried that he can’t handle his behavior, but at the end of the day, his choices are his responsibility, not yours.”