How to Bribe a Rachel: Candy!

[Rachel Kells]

She didn't normally do this. In fact she normally avoided the telepathic therapist when she wasn't in a required school mandated meeting with him. Rachel really didn't like that he could be inside her head, and she didn't like that he kept insisting that her dad was in the wrong. She was in the wrong. Stubborn little Rachel knew that.

Adjusting her coat she glanced up at the telepath. "Dr. Neville, you promised me candy." That was the reason she was here. That and well, she wasn't given all that much of a choice. But it was off campus, and there was candy involved. Rachel wasn't normally given all the much candy when she was at her home, and her dad insisted that she eat healthily. Plus Candy was supposed to be really bad for her teeth.

She had taken the man up because candy was on the line, and she did have appearances to keep up. Flashing him her brightest smile she turned in the mall center. "Where to first?" She also wondered who would have the best sale. She really did love chocolate.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Rachel’s reaction to Sean fell into one of the more common reactions. Granted, the psychiatrist preferred that other people treat him with less suspicion, as though he was just like everyone else, since he didn’t think that the telepathy (or, for that matter, his job description) had any effect on his fundamental trustworthiness or humanity. If anything, his powers (and job description) made him more empathetic, subtler, and more capable of displaying nuance and discretion.

However, if Sean spent every waking moment of each day trying to make that point to people around him, then he would never get anything else done. Instead, he kept track of it mentally and went about his life, navigating the expectations of non-psychics.

At least Rachel was easier to navigate. Delicate, because of how much damage her father had done to her, but still easier to navigate. She was young, and the psychiatrist had worked with her on and off for years at this point. For instance, he knew that he could entice her into coming with him for candy in the post-Valentine’s Day rush, even if cracking her shell for conversation would prove more difficult than procuring the agreement in the first place.

So they had driven mostly in silence to the mall, with Sean playing a Simon and Garfunkel CD for the trip. Then, after entering the mall, he cast about for a directory, examining it briefly. “The Lindt store is on this level, and they always have good chocolate,” he proposed.

Yes, it was a high-end chocolatier, possibly beyond what Rachel might expect in a given situation, but he had promised, and, moreover, he liked their products.

[Rachel Kells]

It wasn't that Rachel hated Dr. Neville. She just thought that he was wrong. He couldn't be right about her dad. She was int he wrong ans she was bound and determined to prove it to the therapist. She knew that she couldn't afford to even think about her dad being the bad guy. Dr. Neville would hear it and make her admit it. Nope. nada. La la la. She would instead shift through all the classical performances of Sleeping Beauty.

That didn't last all that long, and she began to think again of why he had even invited her out in the first place. She was still confused about that fact. Why would he even want to spend time with some kid who was barely a teenager. She wasn't worth the attention, and she knew her dad wouldn't like that she was hanging out with the telepathy so easily.

In fact one of her dad's major rules sprang to mind as she watched the good doctor drive.Never Trust a Telepath. They were one of the most dangerous meta's around because they could screw with your mind and make you believe things that you knew weren't true. Her daddy had said that they were the type with too much control, though the military could use them for interrogation of dangerous people. She specifically remembering her dad saying that all telepath's should be locked up, if only for the privacy invasion.

For the entirety of the drive to the mall after this revelation of epic proportions in Rachel's mind she warily eyed the telepath and refused to speak. When they got to the mall however, Rachel allowed a small smile to grace her face. She really did like chocolate and day after sales were normally the best. She was more than happy to be getting chocolate even if she did consider it a bribe. What she wasn't expecting however was that they would be going to one of the biggest chocolate shops around.

Glancing over at the telepath her smile wavered. "Those are kinda expensive." It wasn't like she didn't not have money, but it was restricted to a monthly basis, and she had used up a lot of this month's on a new pair of ballet shoes. The old ones had been getting too worn and one even had a hole. Pulling off her mittens and sticking them in her pocket she smiled at the telepath. "Dr. Neville, we could just go to like CVS or something. It would be cheaper." She didn't want to take too much of his bribe.

"You've already done enough driving me here." Her eyes flashed for a mere second. Maybe she could get rid of him. That would be kinda fun. Then again, she didn't really want an enforcer hunting her down. That would be a pain. Giving the ever slightest eye roll Rachel spun back around to face the telepath, the cat hears on her hat flopping a little. "Seriously, whichever has the best sale. I don't want to spend too much."

That was Rachel, her father's pride and all.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The car ride had not been the worst in recent memory, despite the thoughts that Sean overheard from Rachel. She didn’t voice them aloud, which already put her ahead of the car trip that did rival the first on the list, a trip a few years ago with Cobalt Weaver.

To be fair, he hadn’t bribed Cobalt into his car that night; he had...persuaded him in a way that the younger mustachioed man might have called “blackmail.”

That didn’t make Rachel’s thoughts less offensive or more comfortable, but he was used to anti-psychic bias, and, moreover, he knew that these opinions came from her father.

Nicholas Kells remained one of those people that the psychiatrist could unequivocally say that, apart from his innate humanity (in that he was a human being), Sean couldn’t name a single redeeming quality.

He curbed his tongue around Rachel, careful never to step over the line about her father, even when he assured her that his prejudices had no bearing on her value as a person. She was a good person, and he lamented that she had such a figure looming over her in lieu of real family support. He had seen that situation play out with tragic results before, and he wanted to spare Rachel that outcome.

However, while he didn’t want to press too hard on her, he did draw the line at only going to CVS for discount chocolate. “We can go to CVS afterward,” he promised her with a gentle smile. While the drug store would be less expensive, this didn’t matter to the psychiatrist. He had the money to spend, and he preferred quality to quantity. “I want to bring home something special.”

[Rachel Kells]

Rachel knew that the ride hadn’t been that bad, especially given there had barely been any words spoken between the two. She was confused by his music choice though. At home, she had mainly listened to country and classical.

Yes, she knew those two styles were so incredibly different, but her mom liked country, and she liked classical because it was a style that was the model of elegance.

Her father had always wanted her to be elegant and composed, and well, polite and proper. She knew her manners, and she knew how to treat people. Except, her father always said, watch out for the meta’s. They were the dangerous ones.

Rachel didn’t understand how dangerous they were until she became one. Being a meta made her dad essentially disown her. Meta’s had all of these abilities that she knew could be used in the wrong way. People were cruel. She was still hoping though that if there was a cure, oh if there was a cure....

Rachel smiled a wistful smile, lost in the fantasy world of her and her dad being happy again. She would give anything, do anything for that. For the chance to have him love her again. To not be a monster.

Dr. Neville speaking shook Rachel out of her world. Right. Chocolate. That was why they were here. She flashed one of her most innocent grins up at the man and tilted her head. “Are you absolutely sure Dr. Neville?” Rachel knew that he was, but politeness dictated she ask again. Besides, he had interrupted her...dream. She still didn’t like telepathy. “Special for who?” She knew the Dr. was in a relationship with someone but didn’t particularly know the details. Besides, relationships were icky anyway. They just distracted from her ballet, or one of her other hobbies. She scrunched up her nose at the thought of the doctor with someone, anyone really. How could his partner handle the telepathy? Ewww.

She really didn’t mean to be rude, and she didn’t think she was being rude, but rude she was being. She gave a small grin to the telepath, before looking around at the people passing by. Almost all seemed to be couples or people who appeared happy. “Must be nice to have someone who loves them,” Rachel muttered under her breath. “I should send some of this to mom... she's probably busy though.”

Frankly Rachel’s mom was always busy. It was a sore subject.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean liked several classical pieces, and he could play more than a few of them, even if he didn’t show off his piano skills for other people. Josh enjoyed country music; for some inexplicable reason, it had become the attorney’s favorite genre despite coming from a family who lived on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. In turn, this gave the psychiatrist more than passing familiarity, but he far preferred folk, folk rock, and Americana. His music choices always reflected that preference.

Thoughts of his preferences evaporated when he overheard her thoughts. Sean could conceive of little more disastrous than a cure for being meta-human, as though it was a terminal or chronic illness. Just as he objected to the notion of a cure for LGBT people, as though sexual orientation or being transgender were illnesses that needed to be eradicated. That form of supremacist eugenics had no place in this world.

He made a mental note to himself to discuss that at another time. Rachel’s self-loathing remained so deep, and they both had their work cut out for them; one way or another, he would help her come to accept herself while simultaneously undermining some of the poison and bile she had absorbed from her father.

For now, however, they had chocolate to buy.

He nodded to affirm his commitment to shopping at the Lindt Store. “I’m sure.” He had plenty of money in his pocket, and the store had a tendency to run 50% of sales post-holidays.

With that, he checked the map on the directory and led her in the direction of the store.

“Special for my partner,” he explained. Part of sharing a life together and a long-term commitment involved surprising one another or doing tasks or procuring gifts that would please one’s partner. Josh had a sweet tooth (albeit not as notorious as Sean’s), and the psychiatrist felt confident he could pick out a treat to make his partner’s night once they both returned home from work.

He chose to ignore the other thought he overheard, regarding his telepathy. The irony of commenting on it struck him as both absurd and unnecessary. More than that, he was used to those impressions from other people; they either learned to accept him for his powers or they didn’t. What mattered to him was that Josh loved him, not despite the telepathy, but for who he was, for all of him. They fit well together.

They had almost reached the Lindt Store when Rachel muttered under her breath, and Sean stopped in his tracks, turning to look over at her. “When was the last time you spoke to you mother?”