Doctor Patient Privileges

Naomi Thériault was a deeply disturbed woman. So many personality disorders wrapped together in a Gordian Knot of sheer chaos, it seemed - at least on paper. Schizophrenia, Dissociative Identity, Borderline Personality, Bipolar, who could even tell where one pathology ended and the next began? Worse even than that, her mental chaos had erupted into physical violence more than once; first against her own husband, then against the Chief of Psychiatry himself, Dr August Pembrose.

"A stapler," Dr Kanda Desai murmured as he made notes on her file.

She tried to staple his lips closed during a counseling session,

he read, pressing his own lips firmly together, trying to resist the shameful temptation to grin.

And he could

definitely

not entertain the appalling, childish sympathy he secretly felt with this desire.

"You the new Resident?" a mildly impatient voice inquired, interrupting his thoughts.

"Kanda Desai, yes," he replied, standing and extending his hand. "And you are?"

"I'm the night shift Charge Nurse for Ward 3, Loretta Jenkins," she replied, shaking his hand with the same slight impatience, as if he was holding her back from something important. Perhaps he was, he thought. "Just took report and came to check in with you. Any questions you got for me yet?"

"She's your patient?" he asked, lifting the file so she could see it. The question was a courtesy, since he already knew Naomi Thériault was on Ward 3.

"You can see that she is, Doctor," Nurse Jenkins replied a little tartly, arching one perfect eyebrow. She seemed defensive, but perhaps he was imagining it.

"So I can," he replied smoothly. "Have you seen her yet this evening?"

"Just to say 'hey' to during Report. Why?"

"I was thinking of stopping by her room now to get acquainted, if she's feeling up to it. Would you introduce us?"

"With pleasure, Doctor," she replied in a tone that expressed quite the opposite. Kanda wondered if she hated

all

men, or if something about him in particular got on her nerves - or if perhaps it had nothing whatsoever to do with either men in general or him specifically, and she was simply preoccupied with her own concerns.

The human ego was a quite ridiculous thing, his own included; he reminded himself of it daily. This ability to view even his own psyche with a sort of detached, affectionate exasperation served him well in his work, and it was this sense of the absurd combined with objectivity that had raised red flags for him as he read through Naomi Thériault's psychiatric profile.

No one could embody the number and severity of illnesses described in her medical history and still be functional; he wondered why she was still taking part in group activities, and had not been moved to a more secure ward or at least given a higher dose of sedatives and anti-psychotics than was recorded in the medical records.

He had questions for Nurse Jenkins about this case, of course, but he preferred to observe the patient directly before formulating and asking them. So he followed the nurse as she walked swiftly down the hall, turned left, showed her ID to the card reader, and waved him into yet another long corridor. She took the lead through what seemed like a labyrinth, until they reached Room 1408 on the right.

"Ms Thériault?" Nurse Jenkins called, knocking lightly on the heavy reinforced door as a courtesy before scanning her ID to open it. Kanda smiled wryly at the dramatic change in her tone; either this was a favorite patient of hers, or she really had taken a violent dislike to him on first sight.

"Come in, Nurse Jenkins!" a pleasant voice called out in welcome as the door opened. "You're a little early, but I'm not complaining," the voice continued, bringing its owner into view and completing the sensation of surreality Kanda felt the moment the first note of her voice reached his ears.

She was petite, composed, and possessed a classy, understated loveliness. Average height and weight; sleek figure; pale, heart-shaped face with a generous mouth and large hazel eyes; dark chestnut hair falling in soft waves to the middle of her back, the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the Western window catching glints of gold and deep red highlights; smooth, unblemished skin with a dusky olive undertone.

"Well, you might change your mind on that once I tell you

why

I'm here early," Nurse Jenkins retorted, giving him side-eye before stepping aside to introduce them. "This is Dr Kanda Desai, the new Resident on staff. Dr Desai, Ms Naomi Thériault."

The patient seemed to freeze momentarily at these words, he saw with growing intrigue. "New Resident?

Here?

" she addressed this to Nurse Jenkins, her eyes wide and startled.

"It's his first night; I never heard he was coming," the nurse answered, shaking her head as if in apology. Kanda felt whole reams of subtext pass between them that he was not privy to, observing each woman in turn.

"Dr Kanda Desai," Ms Thériault repeated after a pause, recovering her composure. "That's Hindu, isn't it?" she asked.

"It is, yes. Lucky guess, or do you study etymology?" he replied, sensing he would do better with subtle snark than with false warmth.

She laughed, a surprisingly deep chuckle full of mischief spilling from her lips.

"Neither. What a pleasure to meet you," she exclaimed as if she meant it. Perhaps she did, he thought, blushing as she openly undressed him with her eyes, nodding her head in unabashed approval. "Not often I get to meet a living stereotype - Tall, Dark, and Handsome

indeed!

It's about time I had some new eye candy around here," she said with a saucy wink, extending her hand.

He took it, noting her firm grip and clear eye contact. This was pretty much the direct opposite of the patient he had been led by the disturbing contents of her file to expect; she was not only functional, but highly aware and intelligent. He was more mystified than ever. He shot the nurse a bewildered look, but she was frowning over something in the patient's chart and either didn't see or chose to ignore him.

"See anything you like, Doctor?" Ms Thériault purred after the moment had stretched into awkwardness, gazing up from under her long dark eyelashes. She was smirking, he noticed, but he sensed anger stirring beneath her pretense of flirtation and hastily released her hand. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Compliments that might or might not constitute sexual harassment between coworkers are

all

you'll get from me for free, let's get that clear right now," she warned; he wondered if this was her paranoia manifesting itself. "Your boss caught me off guard and got a taste once, but you'll have to earn any favors you want, I'm afraid. I'm all out of generous impulses."

Kanda's ears pricked up at this; he had already found himself suspicious and reserved toward his new boss, though he could not pinpoint a cause. It was common for psychiatric patients with paranoid tendencies to accuse their doctors of all manner of outrages, and as a result, almost no one took remarks like Naomi's seriously. That left a wide range of opportunities for doctors who

did

harbor ill intent to take advantage.

"He knows nothin' about that, Naomi," Nurse Jenkins interrupted in a low, urgent voice, which surprised Kanda even more than the patient's comments. "He read your file and wanted the introduction; I just met him myself."

This grew more intriguing by the moment, Kanda thought. It was one thing for a patient to accuse her psychiatrist; quite another for a nurse to side

with

that patient.

"I see," Naomi said, gazing at him speculatively. Kanda felt himself flush, though he was used to attention much like this wherever he went. She shrugged after a moment. "Still eye candy, either way," she murmured at Nurse Jenkins, who rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile.

"Guess I should schedule you for a cold shower before bed tonight," she teased, shaking her head and grinning.

Kanda cleared his throat. "I appreciate the 'free compliment', Ms Thériault," he said, inclining his head and deliberately infusing his voice with a distinct note of sarcasm. "Is there, perhaps, something I should know about Dr Pembrose?" He directed this question to both women, observing their responses.

Nurse Jenkins gave him a mildly hostile shrug, then looked back at her patient. "It's up to you, Naomi," she said, pursing her lips and giving a tiny shake of her head.

"Hmm," Naomi said, giving him another appraising look. "I'm not sure yet, Dr Desai, whether or not to take you into my confidence. Loretta doesn't seem to trust you, and I trust her judgment, so why don't we revisit the question once we all know each other a little better?"

"Seems reasonable enough," he agreed with a disarming smile. "My door is always open to you. It's important you feel safe, and I see you trust your nurse, so there's at least one person you can reach out to at any time. I hope to be another once we're better acquainted."

Naomi Thériault arched an elegant eyebrow. "You're certainly off to a promising start," she said, this time with a more genuine smile. Even the nurse softened her expression, he thought.

"I was curious about you from reading up on your file, so I asked Nurse Jenkins for this introduction on impulse," he explained. "Thank you for your... kind... reception; I look forward to speaking more at our appointment tomorrow."

"As do I, Dr Desai, now that I see you're a worthy sparring partner," she laughed, her eyes dancing, while still assessing. "Thank you for taking an interest."

"I appreciate your time, Nurse Jenkins; would you stop by my office when you have a chance please?" he asked, turning to leave the room.

"Of course, Doctor," she replied, thawing just a little.

***

August Pembrose was precisely the kind of man you might expect from a name like that. Tall, conventionally handsome, broad-shouldered, with dark hair streaked silver at the temples; oozing the kind of unwarranted self-assurance that ripens into arrogance at the smallest provocation.

"You see, don't you, that he walks into every room with absolute certainty that every woman in it is his for the taking," Naomi Thériault said in subdued tones as Dr Pembrose entered the Common Room.

"You're using a lot of superlatives, don't you think? Absolute statements are usually unreliable," Dr Desai objected.

"True; I can't claim objectivity when it comes to that creature. I admit my statements have a largely emotional foundation; but that in itself does not mean they're qualitatively false."

Naomi sat with Kanda at a small round table near a window, because he had decided it was unwise to see her in his office alone until trust was established between them. There would be no confidences exchanged until then, either, so there was no need for privacy just yet.

Besides, this way he could observe her reactions to the other patients and staff around them, which so far had been quite instructive. She seemed to get along with everyone

but

Dr Pembrose, exerting a subconscious magnetism that drew people into her orbit with no effort on her part. She was no narcissist, however; on the contrary, her empathy extended even to a little jumping spider who leapt onto her finger from the windowsill. She released the arachnid into a plastic cup and swiftly laid a napkin over the top, then asked an orderly who'd been hovering nearby to safely relocate it outside.

Kanda Desai was suddenly reminded of his boyhood in India; a clear memory came to him of his mother, shrieking at the skittering of a lizard up the kitchen wall as she prepared the evening meal. His favorite Aunt Priya, deftly capturing the gecko in a basin and clapping a newspaper over the top of it, then releasing it outside.

"Every life is sacred, Kanda," Aunt Priya had remarked when she saw that he'd followed her outside. "A lizard's life deserves the same respect as yours." He had not agreed completely with her even then, and as an adult fondly thought of this philosophy as naive; but the lesson stuck with him anyway. It seemed his new patient had something in common with his favorite aunt.

"Anything for you, Naomi," the orderly said with a broad smile as he took the cup and headed outdoors, bringing Kanda back to the present moment.

"You aren't worried he'll kill it once he's out of your sight?" he asked. Dr Pembrose had noted severe paranoid delusions in this patient's file, and Dr Desai was beginning to be disturbed by the lack of observable symptomology in her, contrasting to such an unlikely degree with the complexity of her psychiatric records.

"Of course not," she replied, rolling her lovely eyes. "Kyle wouldn't do that. If it were August Pembrose, on the other hand, I would

never

entrust

him

with any living thing for which I had anything resembling affection." Her voice frosted over the moment she invoked Dr Pembrose's name.

"I won't ask you to explain that until you feel ready, Ms Thériault -"

"Please, Doctor, call me Naomi," she invited cordially. "I've decided to accept you, at least on a provisional basis," she added with a wink. He was well aware she was deliberately changing the subject, but let it pass for the moment.

"Thanks, Naomi. No need to stand on ceremony with me, either - call me Kanda." The rules for formality between doctor and patient were murkiest in the field of psychiatry, because being on a first-name basis with patients was often a strategic choice for their ongoing care plan. He felt a frisson of unease about it in her case, simply because he felt the visceral attraction between them already growing and stirring with scandalous potential.

"Kanda," she said in a musing tone, looking away out the window. He glanced that way, wondering if she was drawing his attention to something or merely trying out the feel of his name on her lips.

"Well, Kanda, what conclusions have you drawn so far from watching my interactions with everyone around me? Am I what you expected from the outrageous contents of my file?" Naomi Thériault demanded theatrically when the silence threatened to become awkward.

He smiled. "So far, I'm impressed by how

un

impressed you are with your effect on other people, and by your capacity for proactive empathy. So no, not what I expected based on your file; a happy surprise." His answer was a deliberate riposte; she would not disarm him quite so easily, he was letting her know. At the same time, he was showing enough honesty that he hoped she would relax her guard further.

Her eyes sparkled with interest, and she leaned toward him across the table. "Flattery will get you

everywhere,

Doctor," she murmured with a wink.

"I see you're working hard to get your hooks into the new Resident, Naomi," a haughty baritone voice interposed. August Pembrose stood looking down on them, both literally and, Kanda imagined, figuratively. A patently false smile was glued onto his face, but Kanda was shocked by the waves of hostility emanating from his boss toward this petite, demure patient.

She, in turn, did not seem discomposed on the surface, sitting back and crossing her slender legs as she smiled prettily up at the senior psychiatrist. "Good morning, August," she replied in a voice so unexpectedly icy it made Kanda shiver. "I see you're up to your usual narcissistic bullshit already, so that makes two of us apparently hard at work."

Kanda sat there feeling more out of place than he had ever expected to feel in his own workplace, caught between palpable waves of hostility on one side and arctic gale-force winds of hatred on the other. There was something truly terrible between these two, he thought with a genuine stab of dread. And despite the seeming power imbalance that lay entirely on Dr Pembrose's side, this felt like mutual deadly enmity between equal forces. He felt stuck to his chair, observing the standoff between them.

"Come to my office when you're finished here, Dr Desai," Dr Pembrose said, breaking the tension by looking away first.

"Of course, Dr Pembrose," Kanda replied, still feeling stunned.

"You blinked, Dr Pembrose," Naomi sang out with a saccharine-sweet smile. The senior psychiatrist did not look back, but raised a hand in response, and for one moment Kanda could have sworn the middle finger was blatantly extended - but he dismissed that as his own imagination reacting to the tension.

"You look like you just realized what a deep cesspool you've plunged into," Naomi observed, leaning back toward him with a glittering smile that was as alluring as it was dangerous. "I'm afraid you're no longer a mere bystander, Dr Desai."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, keeping a poker face despite feeling she could read him far better than he could her. That dynamic between doctor and patient was backward, which made it a distinct disadvantage to him; he had to surmount it somehow.

"We don't have time for that answer now," she replied, standing and arching her back in a luxuriant stretch that drew his gaze to the elegant hills and valleys of her personal geography. "But you'll find out sooner and more directly than you might wish. I've been forced to include you in my plans, although you've arrived very late in the game; but don't worry, nothing too egregiously terrible will happen to you. I'll make sure of it."

She gave him a smile and a wave over one slender shoulder as she walked away down the hall to her room. He watched her go, realizing that she had been in command of center stage the entire time, and he had responded to her cues exactly as she intended. He shook his head, a chagrined but admiring smile hovering on his lips; he would have to tread very carefully with this one.

***Three weeks later***

Loretta Jenkins clocked into work with shaking hands. She scoffed at herself, taking a few deep cleansing breaths. Tonight was the Big Night; if there were consequences, legal or otherwise, they'd cross that bridge when they reached it.

She hefted the duffel bag she'd brought onto one shoulder and headed to the elevator where she met Kyle, who was working a double shift by design. She gave him a smoldering look, but waited for the elevator doors to close before pulling him in close for a deep kiss that bruised their lips.

"We ready?" Loretta asked, coming up for air.

"I damn well hope so," Kyle replied, a fiendish light in his green eyes.

"Good," she said, handing him the bag with a sinister smile.

"I kinda feel for the new doc, though," he added with a shrug as they walked down the corridor.

"Nah, don't worry about him. Naomi won't do lasting damage where it's undeserved," Loretta replied with full confidence in the patient who had become one of her best friends. "We're with the good guys, Kyle," she reminded him.

"Oh, I know that much," he agreed. "And who knows, maybe he'll be into it."

"I'm 99.9 percent sure he will be. I've seen how he looks at Naomi over the past few weeks; I doubt he's fully conscious of it himself, but he wants her bad. The part that surprises me is I think it might be mutual."

"Oh, is

that

how the wind's blowing?" Kyle said with a wicked grin. With that, he turned right toward the staff room, toting Loretta's duffel, while she continued straight down the hall toward Ward 3's Nursing Station. After she took report from the day shift Charge Nurse, Naomi's room was her first stop.

"Pembrose is still in his office, Desai is in his, and the rest of the staff are our people," Loretta stated without preamble. "You ready?"

"More than," Naomi replied, her eyes glittering with anticipation.

"I'll go get Pembrose his espresso, then," Loretta said, her slow smile lit up with the same sensual menace that emanated from Naomi. "I'll be right back after that with your personals."