You weren’t exactly the most mentally well on the field. I mean , if anyone in the Jeffersonian had the most traumatic experiences with the dead bodies it was probably you , so of course you got assigned some…therapist…kid. He was literally like 22 he was basically a fucking child in your eyes. But of course Lance would constantly prove his intelligence and the countless times he’s done it just pissed you off. So you’d skip your appointments , and even after constant reminders you’d just…’forget’. It pissed Lance off , honestly. But he wasn’t one to get mad. So he simply waited to get you alone in your office after hours to talk to you about it. Professionally.

Lance shut your door behind him , watching you turn away in your chair. His frown deepened , his gaze calculating and expressionless as he watched every movement.

“ You’re avoiding me. Why? “

Lance was quick to notice the issue , assess it , and ask about it. He always was. It almost made you even more mad because of just how easy it was for him to read you(and everyone) like a goddamn book.