"Kronos. Take a se... Oh."
Kronos grinned from his relaxed position on the lady's chair, then made a show of throwing his feet unceremoniously on her desk.
"Please, you take a seat. There's one opposite me," he replied, gesturing to the hard-backed chair in the middle of the room. The lady smiled warily but complied to the immortal's wishes as she had studied his personality well enough to know when not to argue.
"Why are the lights off, Kronos?" she inquired, while making her way over to her allocated chair.
"You turn lights on when entering a room; I turn them off," he replied. "Suits my personality, don't you think?" He shot her a twisted grin.
"Definitely," the lady agreed. "Can we begin the interview now, or is there anything else you would like to...organise...first?" she asked with a hint of sarcasm.
"Oh, no. Please... Be my guest."
The lady smiled and opened her notepad.
"We'll start with the inkblots, I think," she stated.
Kronos smiled uncaringly and continued cleaning his nails with the lady's letter opener. After a few seconds he glanced up from his manicure and pretended to just notice her for the first time.
"Oh, was there something you wanted?" he baited with mock politeness.
The lady motioned to her desk, refusing to take the bait.
"My inkblots are in the desk," she explained. "I thought it would be wise to tell you that first, instead of risking a letter opener through my neck for sneaking up on you."
Kronos grinned.
"Yesss," he breathed maniacally. "Wise move. I'm beginning to like you." He motioned to the top drawer of her desk. "In here?" he inquired. The lady nodded.
"Thankyou," she said on accepting the inkblots that had been pushed roughly into her hand. Sifting through the stack, she picked one from the middle and handed it to Kronos.
"Tell me. What do you see?"
Kronos glanced at the card in his hand then shrugged his shoulders.
"Mutilated body parts, of course," he replied matter-of-factly. "Expertly chopped up, too," he commented admiringly with an expert eye and all the professionalism of a serial psychopath.
The lady nodded, not surprised. She handed him the next card.
"And this one?"
Kronos studied the card for a few seconds longer than the previous one. He turned it on its side. Slowly his mouth twisted into a cheeky smirk.
"I didn't know that such...explicit...material was allowed in these tests," he commented.
The lady raised an eyebrow.
"What do you see?" she inquired, interested despite herself.
Kronos leaned forward in his chair and turned the card around to face the lady.
"See this blob," he said while pointing to a shape on the card.
"That's me."
The lady nodded, slightly confused. Kronos continued on in his game of show and tell.
"Now, see this blob," he said, motioning to a shape close to the first one. "That's Methos." He stared at the lady warningly. "My Methos."
"I know he is, Kronos," the lady said quickly. Kronos, meanwhile, was motioning to the two blobs at once.
"Now, if you look at them together...." He left his sentence hanging in the air.
The lady stared at the card, then suddenly raised an eyebrow.
"I'm impressed, Kronos," she replied carefully, after checking her breathing wasn't noticeably erratic. "That's quite an imagination you have there."
"Cultivated to perfection over the centuries," he admitted with a modest shrug of his shoulders.
********
Five minutes later, the lady managed to distract Kronos from chuckling immaturely at the inkblot of him and Methos.
"I think that's enough with the inkblots," she decided quickly and reached forward to take the card from the immortal's hand.
Kronos glared at her with a murderous look in his eyes.
"I'd like that inkblot back now," he said in a carefully monotone voice. "I'm going to keep it, and you are going to let me," he continued on. "Do you understand or do I need to...convince...you that it would be less painful to just do as I say."
The lady noticed that Kronos had made the effort to pull his best homicidal manic expression for this occasion, and decided that returning the inkblot as quickly as possible would probably be her best move. She quickly changed the subject.
"Ok... I think we'll move onto...word association, now."
Kronos raised an eyebrow then nodded his head.
The lady relaxed back slightly in her chair.
"I'm going to say a word, and you will respond by saying whatever comes to your mind first."
Kronos nodded again.
"Ok, then," the lady said. "Methos."
"Mine," Kronos responded without hesitation.
The lady ticked a box on her sheet of paper.
"Duncan."
"Dead."
The lady smiled and ticked another box before continuing on.
"Corpse."
"Where?" came the eager reply.
The lady chuckled silently to herself, and ticked the next box. She cocked her head in thought before continuing on.
"Krycek," she said.
"Rat," came the quick reply. "Hang on, I like him. He reminds me of me."
"Really," the lady prompted.
"Definitely," replied Kronos. "I like people with mutilated body parts. They're always good for bedtime stories."
*********
Five minutes later, the lady, upon deciding that Kronos' last comment would be a suitable place to finish their interview, had finished ticking boxes down her sheet of paper and packed her notes up.
"Thank you, Kronos," she said. "That will be all."
The immortal grinned and dismissed her politeness with a wave of his hand.
"Anytime," he replied. Looking down at his previously rescued inkblot, he stared at it for a few seconds before raising his head.
"That will be all," he said to the lady. "Leave anytime you like." He motioned to the door.
The lady smiled, and upon reaching the door she paused and turned back to her last interviewee who was in the progress of rearranging or destroying anything within reach.
"I knew there was a reason why I left him to last," she muttered to herself before turning on her heel and leaving the room.
**********
**********
-EPILOGUE-
Meanwhile, in the waiting room, the action unfolded as follows...
"Let go or lose your head."
Krycek paused while snatching a beer from Methos' jacket pocket and quickly removed his hand from the sacred object. He glowered at the old immortal. Methos smirked defiantly back without removing his sword from the younger man's neck. Suddenly Mulder jumped up from the recovery bench and ran over to the two men.
"Hey! Leave him alone!" he yelled at Methos, and yanked the immortal's arm away from his ex-partner's neck. Krycek looked at Mulder with surprise.
"Thanks, Mulder. That's...out of character...for you," he said, touched.
Mulder glanced at Krycek and smiled.
"Yeah, well...I know I usually let other people hurt you, but, hey, I thought a change was in order."
Krycek smiled appreciatively, then shot a smug look at Methos who just glared back.
"Yeah," Mulder continued on. "I think from now on our relationship should be more personal."
Krycek raised an eyebrow in surprise, hardly believing what he was hearing.
"Really, Mulder. I didn't know..."
Mulder gave him a sideways look.
"Yeah, well... I think, considering how close we've become, that if anyone's going to bash you, it should be me and only me."
Krycek's expression froze as he suddenly realised he might have slightly misinterpreted Mulder's intentions.
"Oh," he said, disappointed.
Mulder smiled, completely missing Krycek's expression, then leaned forward to reach inside the man's jacket. He lowered his hand towards the man's jeans. Methos raised an eyebrow in amusement.
"Mulder!" came the strangled gasp from Krycek.
Mulder looked at him quizzically, then reached further around and pulled his gun from where it had been shoved into Krycek's jeans.
"Stop trying to steal my gun, Krycek. You know it never works."
Methos grinned, and settled back further into his chair in amusement. Reaching for his beer, he noticed it had disappeared again.
"Krycek...!" he yelled dangerously. The man turned and stared at Methos.
"What is it this time?"
Methos glared at him with death in his eyes.
"Give. Me. Back. My. Beer. Now."
Krycek stared at him.
"I don't have it."
"Yes you do! You were trying to snatch it just a few moments ago!"
"Yeah, but it didn't work!"
Methos leaned over and grabbed Krycek by the scruff of his neck and pulled him closer.
"You are walking on thin ice, boy."
Mulder jumped forwards and pulled Krycek out of the immortal's grasp.
"Leave him alone! I hurt him, not you."
"Stay out of this, Mulder."
"No!"
"Yes!"
"Let go of me!"
"Aghghgh!!!"
"Ockkkkkgggghghhh!!!"
"Owchhhhhhhh!"
Suddenly the fighting stopped. They all looked over at Duncan.
"What?" asked the highlander innocently while sipping on Methos' missing beer.
The three entangled men stared at each other. Then simultaneously their eyes all returned back to Duncan.
"You have *got* to be joking," swore Methos.
* * *
The lady smiled from her vantage point at her office door. Watching the action unfold before her eyes for a few more seconds, she then looked down at her pad of paper and turned to the final sheet. It read 'Group interaction.' She ticked 'PASS'.
She then turned away from the minor World War Three that was about to erupt, and walked off down the corridor, humming to herself.
THE END.