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He feels somewhat overdressed. It was advertised as a Christmas party, but he's the only one who showed up in a suit and tie and he's not sure exactly what happened. Everyone tends to act distant within the FBI and suddenly they decide to drop the barrier of professionalism by showing up dressed casual. Will theorizes that it's because working in an uptight environment causes people to feel the need to let loose during off hours. And the thought of seeing his co-workers acting familiar and overly relaxed makes him uncomfortable.
Still, he's just glad that he doesn't stick out like a sore thumb. Because he's been practicing his polite smile for years and so he looks completely at home among the various agents and scientists. But deep down inside he wants to run home and write a rude letter to his psychiatrist because he can't believe she talked him into this. She somehow made it seem like a good idea to try and breach his comfort zone, try new things and meet new people. Something about the new year approaching and taking a step in a direction that scares him.
But now he sees how agents from all the various departments easily gather and make small talk, laughing about nothing in particular while he simply sits there by himself. He's stuck among a gaggle of people that are almost all complete strangers to him, and it's hard not to feel like there's no room for someone like him, even if it doesn't look like it.
And that's why he hates therapy. It all boiled down to paying a stranger to tell him what he already knew and then he was pressured to go out in society and pretend to be a part of it. And putting on that fake mask should only be reserved for teaching at the Academy or doing anything else productive. But parties? They are a waste of time and serve only as an opportunity for people to drink and then find excuses to feel each other up. And Will has an interest in neither.
He quietly moves over to the window where he has a clear view of the front door, trying to figure out the shortest amount of time he would have to stay here without it coming across as rude. Jack would have his head if he left too early. But a part of him wonders if Jack would even notice that he's here at all.
After two more bites of some overly pretentious looking pastry, he decides that it's time to slip away unnoticed. He makes his way through the sea of chatty people, and he's almost astonished at how easy it is to go by unnoticed. He was worried over nothing. Especially since Jack is too busy talking to a pair of important looking agents. Will finds his attention momentarily distracted when Jack begins to laugh. Because it's a truly bizarre sight to see.
And when Will manages to bring himself into the present, he almost collides into a man, sending his drink splashing onto the floor. But the guy doesn't seem upset in the slightest because the moment he catches sight of Will, a flash of recognition comes over his face.
"Hey, it's Crawford's little helper! The psychic guy, right?"
"Not exactly" Will says "I'm sorry about your drink, but I can--"
"No, no, he's not psychic" a woman next to him says, looking more than a little dizzy. "He's one with the empathy trick, what did we used to call him?"
"Oh yeah, now I remember!" He snaps his and lets out a laugh. "The freak."
The woman finds his laugh contagious and begins chucking with him, grabbing the attention of those around.
Will shakes his head imperceptibly. Because, while he's used to being called names and being looked at like he's different, the laughing takes him back to his years as the new kid in school. And dealing with unpleasant memories is the last thing he wants to do during the holidays.
He sidesteps and tries to get away from the increasingly stuffy room, but he finds himself trapped by a crowd of people who have unconsciously drawn closer to see what's going on.
He tenses when someone grabs him by the elbow and feels a pull. But his face softens when he sees that he's being led away. Will soon finds himself on the other side of the room where fewer people are ambling about. And when the woman releases his arm, he leafs through his memories. She looks familiar and yet he can't quite place it if he's seen her before or not. But all intentions of remembering disappear the moment he sees her up-close. And he finds that his throat has constricted when his eyes fall on her.
"Sorry about that" the woman says, as if she's somehow responsible for other people's actions, "I guess FBI agents can get really stupid when they're drunk."
He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, hoping she won't catch onto the fact that his head is suddenly going into overdrive and it's making him forget how to be coherent.
"Well thank you for..." he vaguely gestures behind him, "but it wasn't really necessary. I was heading out anyway."
Her eyes soften a bit. "You don't have to let two drunk people ruin your entire night."
"It's not them. Not exactly. It just hasn't been a good night for me."
"Either way, I think you might want to put your escape on hold for a little while" she says, gesturing towards the other side of the room. "Agent Crawford seems to be looking this way and he's not keen on people who leave social events early."
Will looks at her with a frown. "You know Jack?"
"I worked with him a few times in the past. He liked what I wrote on the Abel Gideon case."
A few pieces slot in place. "You're Dr. Bloom."
"Please call me Alana" she says, extending a hand. "And you must be Will."
He reluctantly shakes her hand, hating the fact that she already knows who he is.
But the earlier revelation regarding her identity makes him go back and revisit some memories, because something doesn't exactly make sense. Will isn't sure how long the silence between them lasts but he soon realizes that she's probably misinterpreting the sudden quiet and frown on his part.
"So I take it Jack hasn't said good things about me then?" she asks with worry on her features.
Will shakes his head. "No, he never said anything bad, it's just that... I guess I always assumed you were a man."
He braces himself for a frown, a yell, maybe even a slap, but none of these ever transpire. Odd enough, she doesn't look offended in the slightest because a smile lights up her face. And a part of Will is stupidly happy that he was the one to draw it out.
"I just didn't have a lot to go on" he explains, "Jack just told me that he respects you and could never really disagree with you, so I assumed that the only person who could ever do that has to be a big, intimidating male doctor."
"You know, if I think about it, that's really not a bad reputation to have" she says.
"It's certainly better than mine."
And just like that, her smile fades away. And he can't help but feel terribly guilty for having this effect on her. "I'm sorry, I'm being a buzzkill."
"You're actually reacting much better than someone in your situation would. I know I'd be more than a little upset."
"I rarely get angry. I tend to just step out of the way and hope I can duck out before things turn ugly."
She nods at that, looking at him with understanding and Will is struck by how safe her soft expression is making him feel. And it's not because she pulled him away from the gaggle of half drunken partygoers or because she's still there and not ignoring him or looking at him like he's different. It's something else. And that's when Will realizes what it is.
The reason she looks so understanding is because she's a psychiatrist. Just like the one Jack told him to see, who dissects and probes him with endless questions week after week. Just another shrink who found his ability interesting and had no interest to see him as a human being.
And it suddenly didn't matter how beautiful or charming the woman in front of him is because it's only a matter of time before she'd try to analyze him like a bug under a magnifying glass.
"I really should go" Will says quickly, and takes a few steps back. But he stops the moment a firm hand lands on his shoulder.
"Good to see you made it, Will" Jack says, his hand still keeping him in place. "And I see you've met Dr. Bloom. Enjoying the party, doctor?"
"It's definitely something" she says, smiling politely.
"There are a few other people I want you to meet" he tells Will, "but they seem to be running late, so make sure you don't stray too far away from here."
"Other people?" Will asks, feeling as if the room was becoming too stuffy yet again.
"A few agents, couple of doctors that have been consulting with us for years. They're all really excited to discuss your ability and exactly what goes into doing what you do. They've never seen anything like it."
The more he talks, the more Will's urge to brave through the whole night dissipates right before his eyes. Because while he could see himself ducking in a corner during the rest of the event, he couldn't escape a whole group of people who sounded so enthusiastic at the thought of finding out exactly what his job entailed.
When Jack finally walks away, Will feels like the hand is still pressed on his shoulder, warning him to stay put or else a disagreement will take place. So he stays rooted to the ground, wondering how long it will take before Dr. Bloom begins asking him about his job.
Which is why he's surprised when she just asks, "This isn't exactly how you pictured spending your Christmas, is it?"
He smiles weakly. "Not exactly."
"I skipped over my family's annual holiday dinner for this" she says, "but now I'm not sure what's worse: being stuck at a small table with an entire family - two of which are yoga instructors who keep trying to convert me - or attending a party where there isn't any beer."
Will frowns at this and surveys the bottles behind the bar, not sure how he hasn't noticed before. But she's right.
"It's a sacrilege, really" she continues, and he can't help but find it adorable that she's trying to look upset. "I thought that I'd never say this out of college, but this party is lame, isn't it?"
He'd like to agree with her, but he's still a little foggy on what makes a party lame or not. So Will just gives a half nod.
"Well I don't know about you" she goes on "but I wouldn't mind a little break from this crowd. How do you feel about a walk outside in the freezing cold? There has to be some store nearby that sells beer."
For a moment he thinks she's kidding, but she doesn't look away or laugh. Still, he can't agree, even if he's tempted. "I don't think Jack would appreciate me leaving right now. Like you said, he's not keen on people who take off from a social event."
"Well it's not like we'll be gone for hours. Besides, you're with the big, intimidating doctor he can't disagree with, remember?"
A side of him wonders why she's being so nice and eager to take him away from the group of people he found uncomfortable. The spark of a thought that maybe she's taken a liking to him enters his mind, but Will quickly pushes it away. Because it's obvious she just wants to find a nice quiet place to start asking questions and try to dissect why he thinks the way he does.
So he decides to agree to accompany her outside anyway, partly because he just wants to get it over with and partly because he's intrigued by her.
Alana leads him through the sea of people who seem too affected by the haze of alcohol to notice anything, and she stops to pick up their coats. And Will tries very hard not to notice the way her dress clings to her body as she slips the jacket on. Because he's still waiting for the moment the illusion shatters and she starts looking at him like the oddity he is.
They push the door to the outside and see that it has been snowing for a while and the streets are covered, making it hard to walk. Will suggests that they go back inside since he knows she wouldn't enjoy waking through snow in a pair of high heels. But she reassures him that she's fine and that the dozens of people who are hanging around outside don't seem fazed either.
She leads him down the street, under a web of Christmas lights, until they reach a small store. And Will tries to be chivalrous and offers to go run inside and buy the beers himself.
When he returns, he finds Alana with her head tilted all the way back as she's looking at the snow falling. She looks just like a teenager and he finds her smile adorable.
He approaches and hands her a bottle. "I wasn't exactly sure if this is what you like."
"It's perfect, thank you" she says, as they head down the street "Are you sure you don't want one?"
"I think snow is an indication that it's a little too cold for a beer right now."
She laughs. "Well that's a problem. You shouldn't let weather influence what you drink."
"I also let it influence what I wear and when to fish or let my dogs out."
"You know, I could tell you were a dog lover the second I saw you."
Will thinks for a moment. "There's fur on my suit, isn't there?"
"Sorry" she says, stifling a laugh. "But you can think of it as affection on the go."
"Or extra insulation" he says. "Which can be too much from five dogs."
A mix of surprise and amusement appears on her face. "You have *five* dogs?"
He mentally curses himself for telling her this because now she'll wonder why he has this propensity to take animals under his care. So he sighs and simply tells her, "Like you said... I'm a dog person."
"I hope you have a house big enough for them" Alana says, "they sound like a handful."
"They're not, really. They stay by themselves whenever I have to work all day and they never destroy the house." He pauses. "For the most part."
"Let me guess, curtains turned to shreds?"
"... I'm still working on training them. But they behave themselves whenever I fish, so I'm just glad they don't jump after the fishing rod anymore."
He's not sure how, but Alana gets him to talk about fishing and making lures and how this hobby first started. And Will's struck by how easy it is for him to open up in front of her. A part of his still wonders when she'll break down the barrier and just flat out ask him what it's like to empathize with killers. But the question fails to come. Instead, she talks about how her brothers tried to get her interested in fishing but only succeeded in making her enjoy drinking beer. And how she ended up playing baseball for a few years in school, but soon grew to hate the sport altogether.
The snow keeps falling as they talk and after a few more minutes, Will decides it's time to head back before they freeze. Alana protests for moment, assuring him that she liked to run around the snow as a child all the time and is used to the cold. And Will feels slightly embarrassed at the fact that she looks much more accustomed to the cold than he is, despite the fact that he lives in the woods in the middle of nowhere.
"I think that the people that Jack wanted me to meet are pretty upset right about now" he says as they stops before the steps leading inside the building.
"You'll be fine. I'll just tell Jack I needed to make use of your expertise."
"I don't think 'emergency beverage consultant' falls under my expertise."
The corners of her mouth curl upwards as she glances at the bottle in her hand. "Well don't worry so much. This is supposed to be a Christmas party, remember?"
"I guess I'm just not used to the whole not worrying part."
Alana gives another reassuring smile, and for a moment he could almost feel the image being recorded in his brain. Because he can't believe that he managed to have an entire conversation with a psychiatrist that didn't revolve around how he was feeling or what he was thinking and why. For twenty minutes they had been just two people taking about things that ultimately didn't matter, but those were twenty minutes during which Will had felt normal.
Now he realizes that he's made the mistake of labeling all doctors the same way, but the woman in front of him is a clear example that it's possible to meet people who can surprise you in a beautiful way.
And as he's standing there next to her, Will finds himself mumbling, "Thank you."
Alana frowns for a moment before turning to face him. "For what?"
"Making this party enjoyable."
For a moment Will's tempted to brush away the snowflakes from her hair because he quickly becomes aware of how close they're standing. He's always used to being the one who acts unsure or nervous. But this time he's taken aback when Alana is the one who draws back a bit awkwardly.
"We should head back inside" she says, looking passed him. "Jack's probably wondering what happened."
He nods once as she quickly heads up the stairs and into the building, leaving him alone in the snow.