Page 42 of Deja Who
“I’ve dealt with warmer morticians,” Gray Suit added.
“Then why are you here?” Leah snapped.
“Oh. Well.” Spider Shirt Girl traded glances with Gray Suit; they shrugged in unison. “You’re the best. Most other Insighters have to frig around for months or years before they figure out the problem. Or the past life causing the problem, I guess. You’re quicker. So...” She spread her hands in a “what are you gonna do?” gesture. It was like picking a dentist based on speed. If you had to have a stranger doing awful things to your mouth with pointy sharp things, it should be a stranger good at her job, and who cares if she loves small talk?
“Hmmm.” Leah still had that adorably pissy look on her face, but sounded mollified. And “you’re the best” didn’t do her justice. Leah was almost infamous in her field. People had written papers about her; he’d read several while in her mother’s employ. Funny how none of them picked up on the former child star angle, though.
“But I don’t want to kill you, Ms. Nazir,” Spider Shirt Girl said, almost as an afterthought. “That’s what we’re talking about, right? Killing you?”
“Right! You’re exactly right, excellent.” Archer was grateful Spider Shirt Girl was getting him back on track. “Anyway, I had some ideas about that. Maybe we can talk at lunch?”
“You already had lunch with Cat.” Leah, he could tell, was still a little peeved. He figured it wasn’t that she hadn’t known she could be a little, uh, disconnected from her patients. But thatwas a lot to take in at once, and in just those couple of minutes. Anyone would feel ganged up on. “And I have patients who loathe me waiting.”
“It’s not loathing,” Gray Suit piped up, no doubt trying to be helpful. “It’s more like general dislike.”
“With a dash of unconscious scorn.”
“Yep, that’s it,” Gray Suit said with an enthusiastic nod. “That’s exactly it.” He was eyeing Spider Shirt Girl with not a little admiration. “That’s really the exact... do you want to grab coffee or something? After?”
“Dunno. I used to be African-American. Is that gonna be a problem?”
“Hell, no. I used to run the KKK. I think we can have coffee together without a hate crime happening.”
They beamed at each other.
“This is like a cell phone commercial,” Leah snapped. “A bad one.”
“Oh, shush,” Archer said, catching her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s romantic as shit. And kind of makes you Cupid.”
She muttered something under her breath which sounded a lot like “oh, fuck me,” but probably wasn’t. But she didn’t kick him out, and even found a genuine smile for Gray Suit, who was her next patient.
“True love,” Archer said, settling down across from Spider Shirt Girl, who’d picked herVogueback up. “Doncha love it?”
“It’s just coffee.”
“I wasn’t talking about you guys.”
