A/N: Sorry for the wait; I had writer's block. And I still do, especially when it comes to Boy Bride. I've no idea what to do for it. D: But I kind of like this update, though it's shorter than the last by a bit. Do you guys mind the point of view changes? I mean, I guess it can get a little confusing, so I'm curious. I, personally, find the story easier to narrate in both Carmen and Kyle's respective points of view. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story, and don't hate Edward or anything. He tries to do things in Carmen's best interests. Kyle's not a bad guy either; he's a softie at heart. Thank you to my lovely beta, CyneNoir! I had the best time working with you!

Disclaimer: I own all the characters, and a few more will be introduced soon. I don't own stuff that are already owned, like Stanford University.

Warnings: Language.

PS. Just so you all know, Kyle's clinic is in the hospital. He is a doctor there, but his primary focus is psychology, and he has his own ward there, which is where Carmen and Edward were waiting. Thought I'd mention this, so no one's confused.

Chapter Four: Professional Detachment

Kyle

I stared at the two people in front of me, just as shocked as they were. Inwardly, I cursed whatever deity was around for putting me in this situation, while outwardly, and somewhat pathetically, hoping that the two didn’t recognize me.

“You!” DeAngelo finally shouted, abruptly snapping out of his reverie, and my hopes were dashed. I put on a nervous, polite smile, eyes darting back and forth between DeAngelo and my patient, a young man, the files stated, named Carmen Cecile.

“Ha, what a coincidence, huh?” I asked, loosening my standard attire tie just a bit. The damned thing felt like it was trying to choke me. Maybe it was. Damn you again, deity. Damn you! My internal rant was cut off when DeAngelo, in a repeat of last night’s events, lunged at me. But this time I was ready, placing my hands on his shoulders to steer him back when he grabbed me by the lapels of my suit.

“You little punk!” he shouted, or something along those lines, anyway, lifting up one of those monstrous fists to crack my face in half—again. Bastard, as if he hadn’t done enough lasting damage last time. But luckily, before he could murder me, the boy — Carmen — stepped in, gently placing a hand on DeAngelo’s arm, forcing him to loosen the iron grip, which, surprisingly, he did. I blinked at him, coming to a sudden realization. The cute blonde had the bastard whipped — awesome. I gave him a cocky smirk before shooting a wink to my savior, watching pleasantly as his cheeks flushed bright pink. What a cutie. But, again, DeAngelo didn’t seem to appreciate my gesture.

“How dare you!” he said again, and I wondered if all the rumors about him being cool and collected were a lie. That was certainly how it seemed to be, what with his anger management issues. I should probably give him a card to meet with one of my associates about that, but then I might get hit again. My cheek throbbed at that instant, and I immediately rejected the idea. “How dare you shoot him lewd gestures after he so kindly forgave you?”

I blinked at him, looking innocent, which seemed to only further his anger.

“I wasn’t aware that my gesture was lewd, as you so kindly put it. I have vision problems.” I said all this with a dainty, put-on, offended sniff, turning my head just slightly. “My eye sometimes winks on its own accord.”

He glared in return, but my blonde patient gave me a sweet, believing glance. His pink lips stretched into an ‘o’ of realization, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Like I said before, what a cutie. I flashed him a smile, and he tentatively returned it, still looking unsure. DeAngelo growled.

“That’s it, I can’t stand to be here another moment. Come here, Carmen!” I raised my brows at him, unfazed, as he made a grab for my patient’s hand. He began to drag him away, only looking more and more pissed when I waved goodbye, an ever-present smile on my face. He opened his mouth — probably not to leave me with a compliment — but before he could say anything, my uncle, in all his glory, walked into the room, looking pissed. His eyes trailed from my bruised face to DeAngelo’s angry one, before abruptly returning to mine, looking like he’d caught me with my hand in the cookie jar.

“Kyle, what have you done now?” Oh yeah, sure, put it all on me, why don’t you? Geez, the guy never believes me. I put on my best innocent face, trying to mimic the confusion on Carmen’s.

“Why, Uncle Jason, your doubt in me hurts.” I placed both hands on my chest, right over where my heart would be, and plastered a pseudo-painful look on my face. “It hurts right here!”

He sighed, running a hand through his graying hair, and started talking. I spaced out on him. He always retold the same crap—over and over and over and over.

“I blame myself, Kyle, for not coming to get you earlier when my brother left. That would have been for the best, instead of letting you live with your mother for so long. I mean, I don’t blame her. It’s tough for a woman of her age to be left behind, but—”

All I heard was, ‘Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blaaaaaah,’ and I really couldn’t wait for someone to cut him off — and save me as a result. I thought it would be my receptionist who did so, but I was kind of surprised when DeAngelo spoke up, thus far silent since my uncle had meandered into my office.

“Wait, this i-idiot is your nephew, Bennet?” Ah, so they knew one another. Figures. It’s just like my uncle to send me a client who wanted to punch my lights out. The old guy sounded guilty and appeasing when next he spoke.

“I’m very sorry about Kyle’s behavior if he has affronted you in any way. Please forgive him, Mr. DeAngelo,” he tittered, wringing his hands together. Kiss ass, I mentally shot at him, but I didn’t vocalize the comment, not wanting to be in any deeper shit than I already was. I needed this job to pay for my material lifestyle. Or so Uncle Jason said. DeAngelo looked like he was weakening after the pathetic display my uncle gave him, or maybe he was softening because Carmen, too, shot him a pleading look. I could tell from the look in his big, blue-green eyes — he liked my uncle.

“Well, all right, fine. But I want you to set Carmen up with a new therapist. I’d like him to see as little of this guy as humanly possible.” I wanted to glare at that, I really did. I mean, I didn’t know this kid was going to be my patient the night before, I didn’t know he was only seventeen, and I certainly didn’t know he was mute. It wasn’t like I didn’t feel bad enough about all that already. I mean, no matter what my exes will tell you, I’m not a heartless bastard. But I kept all this to myself. See, Uncle Bennet, I can be both subtle and emotionally detached. Though I prefer to call it being a robot.

“Just wait a second, Mr. DeAngelo. I know Kyle is a handful, but he is a brilliant therapist. He’s the reason many of our more traumatized patients find their way back into normalcy,” my uncle said, voice patient and reasonable. It wasn’t a lie, either, or even because I was his nephew. I graduated at the top of my class from Stanford University, majoring in client-centered psychology. If I hadn’t, uncle or not, he wouldn’t have pleaded my case with the hospital board of staff and gotten me this cushy job. Though clients like DeAngelo really made me rethink the term ‘cushy.’

“I know his methods are a little unconventional—” At this he shot me a glance, to which I smiled brightly. Heck yeah, I was unconventional. It would take forever if I followed every rule set by the ethics committee. “but I think he can really help Carmen.”

“You think—” DeAngelo shot back snidely, pushing Carmen back behind him as if I were about to jump him. I mean, he’s cute and all, but no one was that cute. “but you’re not sure.”

“Why don’t we speak on the matter in my office? I’m sure we’ll come to an understanding,” my uncle soothed, voice calm and patient, and took DeAngelo by the arm, leading him out. He sighed long-sufferingly, but followed to a point. Then he turned back and beckoned for Carmen to follow, which the boy began to do, until I caught his tiny hand in my own.

“Why don’t you leave him here, eh?” I asked, smiling my winning smile. DeAngelo, however, did not look at all charmed by it. “I’m not going to hurt him. My job’s on the line, remember? I just want to start working with him immediately. You know, just in case you good men work something out.”

And they would; that I was sure of. My uncle would show DeAngelo all my degrees, tell him about my success stories, and even make a few calls. The man, throwing one last glare at me over his shoulder, left the room, but not before telling Carmen to call him if he was needed. I had no doubt that his number was on speed-dial, and that as soon as the kid pressed it he’d come running. And kill me. I shot him another irritatingly placid smile, and then he was gone, leaving me with Carmen. I offered him a real smile.

“Wanna hop over to the little coffee shop by the hospital?” I asked him; giving the hand I was still holding a comforting squeeze. Thank god Mimi wasn’t here. This kid brought out the soft spot in me. He looked unsure, but not completely against the idea. How could anyone be against a date with me? “They’ll take a while, trust me. And besides, you’d be way more comfortable in that place than in this room. It looks like a hospital’s office room, and it is, no matter how hard I try to add a little color to it.”

He still looked unsure, mouth pulled down into a frown, so I pouted at him.

“Pretty please?” I asked, eyes wide behind my glasses. It seemed to work because he nodded. Score.

Carmen

I sat stiffly in a small, two-seat compartment, awaiting the drinks that Dr. Masters would bring for us. I wasn’t sure why I was here, exactly, but I didn’t think I was in any danger. The young therapist was way more comfortable to be around than any old stranger would be, though he had tried to come on to me yesterday. I found myself gradually forgiving him for that, unable to stay mad for some reason. My eyes turned to stare at his broad back on their own accord, and I watched him curiously as he smiled at the aging waitress kindly before picking up our drinks and sauntering over.

“Here you go, a light coffee with extra cream and sugar.” He had picked this for me when I’d told, or rather wrote, him that I had never indulged in this caffeinated drink. “Perfect for a beginner.”

Though he said this, the drink tasted horribly bitter when I took a sip of it, and I scrunched up my nose. He laughed, reaching over and scuffling my hair, before dumping a few more packets of sugar into the murky depths of my drink and stirring it. This time it tasted a bit better when I tried it. He laughed again — a rich baritone a little similar to Edward’s, but a lot lighter and happier — before gazing at me deeply. His violet eyes looked as if they were looking through me, and I swallowed, fidgeting uncomfortably. His face abruptly went through a myriad of emotions—from happy to upset to angry — before he settled on a very serious look, eyes looking regretful.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t know about your...ah, condition. I’m sorry about that, too,” he began, but I shook my head. There was no reason for him to be sorry about that. After all, like he said, he didn’t know. “I hope you’ll let me treat you, Carmen, even though I did those things. I promise you’ll be safe with me. All I want to do is help you.”

He looked so sad, and I didn’t want him to be, so I picked up a small napkin and began scribbling on it. /I know that. I trust you. Please go ahead./ He immediately looked relieved, visibly sagging into his seat, before he sat up again, pushing his spectacles back onto the bridge of his nose, and smiled at me.

“Thank you, Carmen. Can I call you that?” I nodded at him, and he smiled again. It was a nice smile. I thought I might like this doctor, and we might even be friends someday. I’d like that. “Great. And you can call me Kyle, too, if you want?” I nodded again. “Okay then, Carmen, shall we begin?”

I bit my lip unsurely, not wanting this easy conversation to be replaced by a more serious one, but then I nodded. It was Kyle’s job to talk to me about my problems, not to babysit me. A brief, worried look passed over his face, but it vanished when I nodded, and he took out a file with my name on it.

“Okay, now, it says here that DeAngelo hasn’t gotten a sign-coach for you yet. Now, that’s okay since it’s still early on, but I know you’ll be a lot more comfortable when you can really communicate again.” His voice sounded so technical, and I bit my lower lip. I couldn’t really understand what he was going on about. But then he flashed me a kind, reassuring smile. “I know it all sounds really hard right now, but things will get easier. I promise you that. And I happen to already know a little sign-language, so soon we’ll be holding full conversations, and you won’t have to lug around a notepad anymore. That’ll be a relief, eh?”

I smiled and nodded at him, thankful. He really did make me very comfortable. I hoped Edward would let him have sessions with me.

“I can even help you learn, practice and all that, though I’d be no where near as useful as a sign-coach.” I nodded again, and he smiled. He smiled a lot, I noticed. His face was very handsome even with the dark bruise on his cheek. I briefly felt guilty about that. He had such a nice face, and it was ruined because of me. He took in my upset gaze, and looked worried again.

“Aw, what’s the matter, little Carmen?” I flushed at the nickname, and he laughed again. “Don’t worry, you look like you’re gonna get it down in a snap. Sign, I mean. Heck, I did it, didn’t I? That means anyone can, really.”

His light self-teasing made me smile, no matter how much I didn’t want to, and I laughed with him, though mine came out as a breathy, hushed sound.

“So,” he said abruptly, drawing out the sound. I looked up at him questioningly. “why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

I nodded, flushing a bit. Looked like I would get a chance at having an easy conversation with him.

“Favorite color?” he asked, face held in his hands in a relaxed pose. I put my hands in my coat pocket, pulling out the small journal Edward had given me in favor of the paper towels littered about the table.

/Blue, I think./ I wrote, feeling a little embarrassed. Truth be told, I liked a lot of colors. Blue, green, purple. The only one I didn’t really like was red...like blood. I was absolutely terrified of blood. Kyle’s laugh snapped me out of that reverie, as he shook his head slightly, long black bangs falling before his eyes, looking like wispy shadows hiding his violet orbs.

“You aren’t sure? That’s really cute.” I flushed again, but the way he said it was not unkind. “Personally, I like the color of a tropical ocean, a mix of blue and green.”

This time my face went cherry red, and I gazed up at him quickly, but he was smiling down at his half-finished cup of coffee, seemingly unfazed. I berated myself for jumping to conclusions and just nodded. The rest of our time spent together passed by like that — us asking questions about one another — until Kyle checked his watch. A frown crossed his face.

“We’d better be getting back,” he said, and I couldn’t contain my frown of disappointment. What if Edward didn’t let me meet with him again? Kyle’s laugh cut me off. “Don’t worry; I know we’ll be meeting again soon. All you have to do is wait for our next session.”

His easy way of speaking soothed me, and I allowed him to take my hand and pull me up. We headed back towards the hospital, my hand swinging leisurely in his.

Kyle

When we got back to the hospital, everything was as I expected. DeAngelo and Uncle Jason were whirling around the place like a tornado, looking for my sweet little client, who, though they didn’t know, was safely tucked under my arm. Maybe I’d exaggerated a bit when I’d said that it would be a while before they finished up. Ah, well.

“What’re you guys up to?” I asked innocently, flashing my disarming smile. They both gaped at me for a second, then at Carmen who smiled up at them shyly, before looking back at me.

“Kyle—” my uncle began, but DeAngelo cut him off.

“Where the hell did you go with Carmen?” he asked, barely able to contain his rage. Carmen, at my side, looked a little frightened, and moved back as if to hide behind me. I gazed at the other man, who was a couple of inches taller than me, with an unfazed, slightly bored expression.

“I took him out for coffee. He looked like he was freezing, and you obviously weren’t doing anything about it.” He began to splutter like a moron, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish, so I kindly snapped it closed for him. “I’ll be seeing both of you on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, all right?”

Then I headed back to my room, whistling a lighthearted tune, and left them both gaping. I gave Carmen a final wink and smile before shutting the door behind me, and locking it for good measure. It seemed like my Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays were going to get a whole lot more interesting.

A/N: Did you guys enjoy the chapter? I certainly hope so. What are your views on Kyle? I know he's not as bad as narcissistic player makes him out to be. I guess I just should've called him a little vain. Oh, well, I think he's funny.

Sweet-Revolution Awards: I'd love it if you guys went and checked out the SRAs. It's an award much like the SKoWs, except for slash fiction here on FP. You can check out the link on my page, m'kay? Please go nominate. I don't really think I'll get nominated for anything -- I think there are lots of stories that fit in better with the categories and stuff -- but I will have some fun judging the best supernatural and best antagonist categories. So go nominate!

Thanks: Everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, or added to their story alerts. Everyone on LJ, too.

Verily: I'm glad you find it interesting, especially if it's in a good way. *Beams*

Aviatorlisa: xD Kyle's kind of nice on the inside. He's just spoiled. But in a cute way. And he really likes Carmen, though not quite at Edward's level, just yet. *Big hug*

Lpluver: This story won't be discontinued, I promise. I had to read everything over, too, though after the wait. xD If you think I take long to update, you should see some of the authors on my favorites. Days, weeks, months, and even years. But I'm glad you like the story and Kyle. Was this update soon enough? Sorry if it wasn't, I've had writer's block recently.

R&R: I don't know when I'll next update, because I suck like that, but I have a higher chance of doing so if you leave me pretty, shiny reviews. Yes, I know, blackmail is unbecoming, but meh, I still do it on occasion, because I'm awesome like that. So, yeah, be daunted by my blackmail and review! Pretty please.