A/N: Beforehand, I'd like to apologize for the lack of any sexual theme toward the end of this chapter. Also, forgive the Scottish accent; I tried to at least portray it.
*
News spread around the divisions that Tom had been attacked by a slime, and when he went into the debriefing room four days after his case with Sohm, he had another horde of busybodies standing at the door. He'd kill Greg for snitching on his assignment. The next time he saw Greg-
"How was it?" Greg asked as he and Harvey stopped Tom in the hallway in front of the debriefing room. The smirk on his face couldn't have given him away any more than if he'd actually told Tom what he'd done.
"Greg," growled Tom, putting a finger to the former's chin. "I am gonna kill you so many ways."
"Get in here," the Director said, loud enough to make his voice carry down the hallway.
"Right after he kills me," Tom finished as he walked into the debriefing room and closed the door behind him. Inside, the Director rubbed his eyes tiredly and downed the glass of scotch in front of him, swallowing hard. He gave Tom a once-over, probably taking note of his choice of pajama pants and t-shirt to wear to a debriefing.
"Here," Tom offered, holding the case file out to the Director. The older man took it, flipped through it, and then whistled sharply.
"Veronica, I need your help for a minute," he said, again, raising his voice just enough to make it carry down the hall. A short while later, a woman came in with a briefcase in her hands. She smiled at Tom briefly before turning her attention to the Director.
"Is this him?" she asked.
The Director nodded. "This is him. I need you to do what you do to get his case subject out of him. Get me when you're done."
And that was it. The Director stood, didn't say another word to Tom or Veronica, locked the door to the debriefing room, and left. Tom, lost, turned to Veronica for an explanation.
"So...I don't understand what we're suppose to do here."
Veronica flashed a lecherous grin. "No, you wouldn't. Your slime is still inside of you, listening, watching, waiting. Slimes are quite infamous for sticking around after they're not wanted anymore. So, I was hired a long, long time ago to help with this little problem."
"Okay, so how do we do this?"
"Well, you just have to strip naked and lie down flat somewhere, and I'll do the rest."
"Here? In the debriefing room? Can't we do this somewhere a little more private?"
Veronica shrugged. "Hey, this is a bomb-proof room with a bulletproof door and a steel bolt the size of your fist for a lock. It's also soundproof and fireproof. It doesn't get much more private than this," the woman pointed out. She turned around and opened a thin manilla folder off the small countertop next to her, taking a mug of coffee out from the coffee machine nearby.
She started sipping the steaming drink while Tom sat there, not wanting to just get naked in front of a total stranger and lie down. Sometimes it was a little hard to just strip for a woman in a locked room. She shot him a glance and he raised his hands with palms face-up in a gesture of confusion.
"What?"
"You know, you can expedite this process by stripping naked and lying down on the table. I'm reading through your file before I get started."
Tom's brow knitted deeply. "I have a file?"
Veronica nodded. "You also lost your virginity at fourteen. To a demon."
Tom almost jumped out of his chair getting to his feet, and started toward Veronica. She gave him a glance and rolled her eyes, continuing to read without even moving to counter him. He reached out and snatched the manilla folder out of her fingers, throwing it across the room and scattering its contents all over the floor. There were at least a dozen papers fluttering around when she met his hostile glare.
"That is not for you to know," he snarled.
Veronica turned her eyes down to the single sheet of paper held between her index and middle fingers. "And you prefer partners that dominate you sexually."
Tom pulled the paper out of her fingers and threw it ineffectually as hard as he could, getting it only inches away. "Go to Hell!"
"And you were abandoned by your birth parents because you were possessed the day you were born," she said without even having to look at a sheet of paper.
Tom reached to grab her throat, but caught himself half way and withdrew his outstretched hand reluctantly. He turned away, looking at the scattered papers all over the floor and the folder resting against the far wall. Tom fought back the urge to yell and raise hell. He saw no reason to do anything more, and was regretting what he'd done already.
"I don't enjoy being told about my childhood. Can we move on?" Tom said in a resigned, defeated tone, stripping off his shirt. Veronica eyed him approvingly and nodded, reaching down to get her briefcase. Tom stripped naked and put himself on the table without any questions. He'd rather just get this over with and not have to talk to her any more.
Veronica put her briefcase on the table and opened it, pulling out a number of small rocks, each about the diameter of a quarter. They were smooth and dark, like polished lumps of coal. She pulled out a small wooden box and opened it with a key. She then used a pair of tongs to grab another rock from the box, this one different.
It was on fire.
Tom's eyes went wide as he watched her hold the small stone with the tongs and arrange the other similar stones in a small pile on the table. She caught his gaze and smirked, setting the burning stone on top of the pile.
The effect was stunning. Small bursts of different colored flames sprouted from the stones, as if they were coal being set alight. They burned for a few seconds in their own colors before fading to a dark golden color. The one on top had a reddish flame, and some of the ones in the pile held a more yellow hue to them.
