[Action; Closed, December 19]

[dead_black_eyes]

Who: Lazarus Lawliet and Belle Goldman
Where: The grocery store
When: Backdated to December 19
What: L's therapist means well but cannot always keep the professional barrier firmly in place. While L waits to hear from his prospective job, the grad student takes matters into her own hands and brusquely spirits her client away on a trip to shop, healthily, on a budget.
Warnings: L can be inappropriate, will be updated if necessary.



After Belle's call, Lazarus spent a few moments pacing indecisively. Leaving immediately, as she'd said he'd need to if he wanted to catch her before work, meant that his plans for the rest of the day were effectively spoiled. Then again, his "plans" were far from exciting or pressing.

Slinging on his newly-repaired coat and locking up his studio apartment, he made his way to the bus stop and hopped the next bus, avoiding eye contact the whole time with the neighborhood's other ne'er-do-wells as they rode to the station.

Once there, he kept his dark eyes peeled for Belle's Honda civic, idly wondering if she really had the time for him she claimed she did.

Comments

[belphe]

It was risky business challenging the borders of someone's comfort zone, but when they were as closed in by their own regiments as L was, she felt it was going to become a necessary part of his treatment.

She stepped closer, handing him the block of cheese.

"I want you to take a minute, and then tell me what you think is the worst that could happen if this cheese was not kosher and you were to eat it. Give me your absolute worst, end-of-days scenario."

[dead_black_eyes]

He set his jaw, turning the cheese over in his hands.

Then he handed it back, obstinate and aware of his own logical failing.

"I would be out of control."

[belphe]

She did not force him to keep it, and accepted it back, but did not remove it from being front-and-center between the two of them.

"And what would happen if you were out of control?" she asked, dropping her voice to a tone only he would be able to easily hear as she invited him to elaborate.

[dead_black_eyes]

"I don't know what would happen, and that, precisely, is the problem."

[belphe]

"You're right. That is the problem." she told him. "In exchange for control, you're setting up all of these restrictions and walls that limit you to the point you can barely move, let alone climb out of the well you're in."

Her eyes fell briefly to the cheese before returning to him. "Hypothetically speaking, how likely do you feel it would be that, if someone were to be there to help you and share whatever fallout might happen, you would be able to let go of that control for just a few seconds and see what happens?"

[dead_black_eyes]

"Why does sharing the fallout make it a more desirable situation? I don't understand," L said, clenching his teeth. "Shared pain is still pain."

[belphe]

"Sometimes sharing the impact means it won't do as much damage."

[dead_black_eyes]

"Isn't it better for one person to keep his pain to himself, rather than rub other people's faces in it? I certainly think so," L said haughtily. "Not to sound trite, but the needs of the many, and so forth."

[belphe]

"If I were a stranger, and you were inflicting your problems on me uninvited, that would be an entirely different situation. However, I am your doctor, and I am asking you to try."

[dead_black_eyes]

L fought a silent but wholly obvious battle with himself before heaving a deep, weary sigh.

"If I try I want something else to balance it out. Kosher meat, or not at all."

[belphe]

"I will consider that a fair trade." she agreed.

And now it was his turn to do his part.

[dead_black_eyes]

Though he seemed to loathe doing it, he dropped the cheese into the shopping basket.

"Fine. It's a deal."

[belphe]

Inwardly, she was thrilled. Grudging as it was, this was a modicum of progress for him. Outwardly, she kept herself admirably composed, giving him a faint, approving smile.

"Good. Now I'll uphold my end of the trade. Pick whatever meat you like."

[dead_black_eyes]

He wandered toward the meats, fussing silently over the selection of chicken and perhaps sending off rather difficult-to-misinterpret signals that he needed a moment alone with the little white packages.