Chapter Text
There are two middle-aged women in the waiting room when Sharon goes to meet her three o-clock, so she looks between them as she asks "Judith Burton?"
"That's me," the white woman rises, and she has to look up, because she's about six feet tall.
"Dr. Sharon Fieldstone," she holds out her hand and the other woman shakes it, grip sure and confident. Her brain already starts to make observations and guesses - some sort of corporate bigwig, maybe? Confident, collected, and acts like she's used to holding the power in any given dynamic. "Come into my office."
She doesn't realize until the door is shutting that the other woman has followed them. She clears her throat. Why don't clients listen when they book. "I'm sorry, but this is meant to be an individual therapy session. If you're looking for a couples' therapist, I can recommend-"
"Oh I'm not here for therapy," the other woman holds up her hands, forestalling Sharon. "I'm just here to corroborate Judith's story," she turns to the other woman and smiles reassuringly.
Well, there's a first ime for everything. "I assure you, Ms-"
"Debbie Claybourne." She smiles placidly at Sharon. "Pleased to meet you." Something about the name rings a bell, but she sets that aside for now.
"I assure you, Ms Claybourne, I'm in the habit of trusting my clients' lived experiences-"
This time, it's Judith who interrupts her. Sharon's starting to get annoyed. "My 'lived exeriences' are quite unusual, Dr. Fieldstone." She clears her throat, and Sharon catches the briefest hint of vulnerability flash across her face. "This is not an easy step for me, and I'd rather not complicate it with diagnoses of delusional personality disorder."
Shedoesn't raise an eyebrow, because she has an excellent therapist face. "I understand," she says. "But I assure you I've seen plenty of clients who could be called unusual, and having another person present can disrupt the-"
"I'll just be here today," Debbie interupts, again. "Just so you understand Judith's not imagining things."
Judith nods before Sharon can figure out what to say next. "Debbie's also a lawyer. I asked her to look over your confidentiality agreement for me, before we start." She holds out a hand, expectant.
"Of course," Sharon tamps down any part of her that's offended by this, and gets more curious about Judith Burton by the second. "Here you go," she holds out her standard confidentiality agreement, which was of course already on her desk, and Debbie takes it. Then she hands Judith a new-client form. "While she's looking that over, you can start filling this out."
It gives her a precious moment to re-center herself. This has certainly been an unusual start to a client relationship, but that doesn't mean it's anything she can't handle. After a few minutes, Ms. Claybourne hands the confidentiality agreement to Judith. "It's good. She can only break confidentiality if you're an immediate danger to yourself or others." Judith nods and signs the acknowledgement, then hands it and the other paperwork back to Sharon.
"Tell me, Dr. Fieldsone. Have your previous 'unusual clients' included any former assassins?"
She blinks once before collecting herself. "No, I can't say that they have. And how long were you in that …line of work?"
"Nearly thirty years. Not including training." Before she can respond, Ms. Claybourne leans over to whisper something in Judith's ear. She makes a face.
"Is there something you'd like to share with me?"
She closes her eyes for a moment, sighs, and says "Debbie is reminding me that I need to try to be vulnerable."
Well. Perhaps Debbie isn't an impediment to the therapeutic process after all. "I know it can be difficult, but that is important. I'm not here to judge you." For the first time, neither of them jumps in as soon as she's done talking. "Why don't you tell me what brought you here? What are you looking for help with?"
"Abandonment issues. Guilt."
"Complex post-traumatic stress," Debbie adds, reaching over to lay a hand on Judith's thigh.
"I can help with that," says Sharon, bending her head to write that down. Underneath she adds ex-assassin. "I find most people come to therapy because of a specific incident or event, even if their probems go farther back. Can you tell me what it is that made you decide to seek my help?"
Judith turns to her friend. "Should I start with Redback, or the Water Relief gala?"
"The Gala, I think."
Judith nods, and turns back to Sharon. "I was assigned a target. Billy Donovan." Brief sadness flickers across her face, and so Sharon writes down Billy Donovan. She knows the name - some kind of organized crime. "I usually did bigger jobs -" she rattles off a list of names that would've had Sharon's eyebrows in her hairline if she wasn't so good at her job. Known war criminals, and most of the high-profile politically motivated deaths of the last couple decades. "But I was not on the best of terms with the Agency, so I had to take it. The client specifically wanted him poisoned, at the Water Relief Gala." She pauses, and Sharon sees Debbie squeeze her thigh encouragingly. "He was called away just as he was about to drink it, so I went up to his room at the hotel. I found four dead men, and no Billy Donovan." She takes a breath. "There was a postcard left for me. A picture of a graveyard, with 'miss me?' And some roman numerals on the back. I didn't understand it at the time, but I understood I'd been set up."
"Why did you think that?"
"Because," she answers, immediately affronted. "Four men killed in my target's hotel room? A note? I knew it had to be for me. The other problem was that one of the dead men was David. Debbie's husband."
"My ex-husband," she interjects. "But not at the time. He's not dead," she adds, as an afterthought. "But we thought he was." Of course. That's why Sharon thought Debbie had looked familiar. Her ex-husband is a disgraced former MP. Bribed by the Albanian mob.
"I got out of there and radioed my team for an extraction, but then I overheard a couple of thugs on their radios. Asking if anyone had eyes on the wife. So I threw away my tracker and went back to the party."
"Why?" Asks Sharon, glad she can still rely on her instincts even when she's a little out of her depth.
"Why what?"
"Why did you throw away your tracker?"
"Oh." She blinks. "I had to keep them from learning about Debbie. It's not allowed."
"What's not allowed?" She prompts. Connections to politicians?
"Friends." Judith replies simply. "Emotional attachments make us vulnerable," she says this last in a brittle, detached tone that makes Sharon think she's quoting someone. She writes down "emotional attachments make us vulnerable - who taught her that?" She has a dozen follow up questions to explore, but decides to save them for when their subject isn't present.
She lets Judith's story unspool mostly without interruption from there, jotting down notes here and there. She hears about a fantastic escape across Europe, unlikely teaming up with her would-be target, and attempt at a high-stakes robbery to pay off the Albanian mob who were after Debbie for her husband's crimes. "And then he gave me a note from Sam, saying that Redback was alive." Sharon goes back to where she's written Sam? and underlines it, before asking, "how did you feel, learning that?"
"Like a fool." Says Judith simply, before adding, "afraid."
The timer on Sharon's watch buzzes. "We"ll wrap up here for today, Judith. You want to come in twice a week?" She nods. "I'll warn you, coming in more often doesn't necessarily mean the process will go faster. Healing takes time."
She nods and rises. "I understand."
"Ms. Claybourne, could I speak with you for a moment before you leave?" Debbie looks questioningly at her friend for a moment, who nods and leaves the room.
"Yes, Dr. Fieldstone?"
"I am here to treat Judith, but I want to make sure you-"
Ms. Claybourne cuts her off with a smile. "My husband almost got me killed by stealing twenty-four million pounds from the Albanian mob behind my back, and I found out my best friend of twenty-five years had secretly been an assassin the whole time. Yes, I have a therapist."
"Good."
After they've left, Sharon glances at the new-patient form. She's not surprised to see Deborah Claybourne listed under emergency contact. She goes back to her notes and writes Debbie - core relationship. For good measure, she circles it.