Birthday Cakes and Costume Parties
Title: It Isn’t That I’m Crazy, I’m Just Having a Bad Day - Session Seven
Author: m_buggie
Fandom: “Band of Brothers”
Pairings: eventual Sobel/Evans, implied unrequited past Sobel/Winters, mentions of Winters/Nixon
Word Count: 1,175 for Session Seven
Rating: PG-13
Standard Disclaimer: This is based off performances in the HBO miniseries, not the actual soldiers. The only thing I own is the computer I wrote this on. I make no profit and mean no disrespect so please don’t sue.
Author’s Note: This is an off-shoot of the Modern Day AU of Doom, otherwise known as “Nothing Says I Love You Like a Crowded Bar and a Dark Alleyway.” Written for and with the help of alouette_sparra. Thanks also go to melliyna for being such a cheerful enabler to this madness and foofighter0234 for contributing valuable input to this mad little foray.
~x~x~
Session #7
The remnants of a heavily frosted sheet cake sat on Dr. Robert Sink’s desk, mauled by his office staff to the point where only the letters P,Y, H, D, A, and Y remained legible in the blue icing that topped it all off. Herbert Sobel regarded the confectionary monstrosity, and his vaguely nauseous looking therapist, with amusement.
“Someone’s birthday?” Sobel inquired.
“Uh-huh,” Sink responded, looking about ready to either become ill or slip into a food coma…possibly both, one after the other.
“Yours?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well then Happy Birthday, Dr. Sink.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sobel,” Sink said, the corner of his mouth twitching with might have been a smile. “Well, you don’t look nearly as miserable as usual. Should I take this to mean that life’s been treating you decently these days?”
Sobel inhaled deeply, arranged himself on that oversized leather couch of Sink’s, and exhaled slowly. “I think I might like one of my co-workers,” he said, uttering the words as though they were a confession to murder in the first degree.
Dr. Robert Sink reached for his notebook and nodded in a thoughtful and encouraging manner. “Really? Well, good for you, Mr. Sobel.”
“No, Dr. Sink, not good,” Herbert Sobel replied with an undercurrent of dread. “This is not good. This is, in fact, very bad.”
“Why is that? Time and time again I’ve listened to you complain about not being able to make connections with people and feeling isolated from just about everyone else from the company. It stands to reason that actually liking another human being would be a welcome change of pace.”
“Well, I think I might more than just like them.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, I like them like them.”
“This is not high school, Mr. Sobel. Are you saying that you like your co-worker in a platonic way or are attracted to them in a romantic and/or sexual way?”
“Um…the second one.”
“Uh-huh. Well, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“There is when that other person is a guy, Dr. Sink.”
“Oh.”
Sobel snapped his fingers and wagged an accusatory finger at his company-provided therapist. “Ah ha! I knew it. You see?”
Sink didn’t even bat an eyelash, completely unfazed by his patient’s outburst. “See what, Mr. Sobel?”
“You used a tone.”
“What kind of tone?”
“I know that tone.”
“Mr. Sobel, please slow down. You’re babbling.”
“That tone, that tone…the tone people use when they find out you’re a queer.” Sobel sat up, still pointing at Sink. “Which I am not, by the way.”
“Didn’t say you were,” Sink replied, shrugging as he scribbled down various things and underlined a few.
“Okay.” Sobel nodded and lay down again, folding his hand over his belt buckle. “Okay. I’m not gay.”
“We’re not here to talk about your sexual orientation unless you want to.”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Your session, your choice.”
Sobel gnawed one corner of his lower lip for a moment, repeating quietly, “I don’t want to talk about that.”
Exactly one minute and thirty-seven seconds passed in silence before Sobel spoke again.
“It’s Will…”
A quick page turn jogged Sink’s memory and he commented, “Will Evans, your new assistant from Texas?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Uh-huh. How’s that working out for you, Mr. Sobel?”
“Not well…or too well…I don’t know, I’m not sure.”
“How decisive of you.”
Sobel frowned and leveled another glare at Sink. “I know we’ve been through this before, Dr. Sink, but it’s really not pleasant to be mocked by one’s own therapist. Besides, wouldn’t it stand to reason that if I knew what the hell was going on with my life then I wouldn’t need therapy, now would I?”
“Mr. Sobel, contrary to what others might have you think, you really don’t need that much therapy,” Sink stated, folding his hands.
He met Sobel’s gaze head-on, held it. And suddenly Robert Sink wasn’t just some older man in a comfortable chair, he was a man in charge who squared his shoulders and gave orders that others had damn well better follow if they knew what was best for them. The transformation had been quick and Sobel found himself both unsettled and humbled.
“You’re not here because you don’t know what’s going on in your life,” Sink went on to say, “you’re here because you’re lousy at controlling your temper and Mr. Strayer doesn’t want to lose a vital member of the company just because you don’t play well with others. You ain’t falling apart at the seams, you just need someone to talk to.”
They stared each other down for a while. Sobel blinked first, looked away, backed down.
“So, I’m here,” Sink said, shifting back into his more avuncular stance with remarkable ease. “Talk to me. Or don’t talk to me. But either way, y’all need to quit your bitching and act like you got a pair because that dog just ain’t gonna hunt.”
Sobel paused, blinking. “Mr. Horton always says that.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised that’s one of Ollie’s favored quotes,” Sink remarked with a smirk. “Who do you think he learned it from?”
Sobel could only gape.
“Close your mouth, son, you don’t want flies getting in there.”
Sobel complied. “Yes, sir.”
“So what was it that you were about to say about Will Evans?”
The younger man sighed heavily but started talking. “We’re having a company costume party this weekend. Technically speaking it’s supposed to be for April Fool's but the way things time out it’s also going to be a celebration of this major deal that we just closed. Mr. Strayer and Mr. Horton think it’ll be a fun way to celebrate and encourage morale.”
“Sounds like fun,” Sink commented.
“I guess so.” Sobel shrugged. “I mean, if that’s your thing.”
“Are you going to dress up?”
Sobel didn’t exactly wince but he did shift uncomfortably on the couch. “I don’t know, maybe.” He sighed again. “Will wants me to.”
The corner of Sink’s mouth twitched again with that almost-smile. “Uh-huh.”
“Will asked me to go,” Sobel murmured, more to himself than to his therapist. “He wanted me to go with him. I don’t know if I can. I hate company events. I’m never any good at them. What if I go and make a fool of myself?”
“What if you go and have a good time?”
“I never have a good time. No one ever wants to hang out with me.”
“Will seems like he wants to hang out with you.”
Sobel swallowed. “He doesn’t know me that well yet.”
Dr. Sink raised his eyebrows. “Now Mr. Sobel, what’d I tell you about this whining bullshit?”
Herbert Sobel couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, sir.”
“So go to the party and have yourself a Goddamn good time.”
His smile grew. “Yes, sir.” He shook his head. “I’ll probably hate it.”
“Well, you’ll never know until you give it a try. Besides, Will asked you. Will wants you there. That ought to mean something.”
And in barely more than a whisper, Sobel uttered, “I hope it does.”
This is totally dedicated to alouette_sparra because she alone knows what's coming next.
Author: m_buggie
Fandom: “Band of Brothers”
Pairings: eventual Sobel/Evans, implied unrequited past Sobel/Winters, mentions of Winters/Nixon
Word Count: 1,175 for Session Seven
Rating: PG-13
Standard Disclaimer: This is based off performances in the HBO miniseries, not the actual soldiers. The only thing I own is the computer I wrote this on. I make no profit and mean no disrespect so please don’t sue.
Author’s Note: This is an off-shoot of the Modern Day AU of Doom, otherwise known as “Nothing Says I Love You Like a Crowded Bar and a Dark Alleyway.” Written for and with the help of alouette_sparra. Thanks also go to melliyna for being such a cheerful enabler to this madness and foofighter0234 for contributing valuable input to this mad little foray.
~x~x~
Session #7
The remnants of a heavily frosted sheet cake sat on Dr. Robert Sink’s desk, mauled by his office staff to the point where only the letters P,Y, H, D, A, and Y remained legible in the blue icing that topped it all off. Herbert Sobel regarded the confectionary monstrosity, and his vaguely nauseous looking therapist, with amusement.
“Someone’s birthday?” Sobel inquired.
“Uh-huh,” Sink responded, looking about ready to either become ill or slip into a food coma…possibly both, one after the other.
“Yours?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well then Happy Birthday, Dr. Sink.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sobel,” Sink said, the corner of his mouth twitching with might have been a smile. “Well, you don’t look nearly as miserable as usual. Should I take this to mean that life’s been treating you decently these days?”
Sobel inhaled deeply, arranged himself on that oversized leather couch of Sink’s, and exhaled slowly. “I think I might like one of my co-workers,” he said, uttering the words as though they were a confession to murder in the first degree.
Dr. Robert Sink reached for his notebook and nodded in a thoughtful and encouraging manner. “Really? Well, good for you, Mr. Sobel.”
“No, Dr. Sink, not good,” Herbert Sobel replied with an undercurrent of dread. “This is not good. This is, in fact, very bad.”
“Why is that? Time and time again I’ve listened to you complain about not being able to make connections with people and feeling isolated from just about everyone else from the company. It stands to reason that actually liking another human being would be a welcome change of pace.”
“Well, I think I might more than just like them.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, I like them like them.”
“This is not high school, Mr. Sobel. Are you saying that you like your co-worker in a platonic way or are attracted to them in a romantic and/or sexual way?”
“Um…the second one.”
“Uh-huh. Well, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“There is when that other person is a guy, Dr. Sink.”
“Oh.”
Sobel snapped his fingers and wagged an accusatory finger at his company-provided therapist. “Ah ha! I knew it. You see?”
Sink didn’t even bat an eyelash, completely unfazed by his patient’s outburst. “See what, Mr. Sobel?”
“You used a tone.”
“What kind of tone?”
“I know that tone.”
“Mr. Sobel, please slow down. You’re babbling.”
“That tone, that tone…the tone people use when they find out you’re a queer.” Sobel sat up, still pointing at Sink. “Which I am not, by the way.”
“Didn’t say you were,” Sink replied, shrugging as he scribbled down various things and underlined a few.
“Okay.” Sobel nodded and lay down again, folding his hand over his belt buckle. “Okay. I’m not gay.”
“We’re not here to talk about your sexual orientation unless you want to.”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Your session, your choice.”
Sobel gnawed one corner of his lower lip for a moment, repeating quietly, “I don’t want to talk about that.”
Exactly one minute and thirty-seven seconds passed in silence before Sobel spoke again.
“It’s Will…”
A quick page turn jogged Sink’s memory and he commented, “Will Evans, your new assistant from Texas?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Uh-huh. How’s that working out for you, Mr. Sobel?”
“Not well…or too well…I don’t know, I’m not sure.”
“How decisive of you.”
Sobel frowned and leveled another glare at Sink. “I know we’ve been through this before, Dr. Sink, but it’s really not pleasant to be mocked by one’s own therapist. Besides, wouldn’t it stand to reason that if I knew what the hell was going on with my life then I wouldn’t need therapy, now would I?”
“Mr. Sobel, contrary to what others might have you think, you really don’t need that much therapy,” Sink stated, folding his hands.
He met Sobel’s gaze head-on, held it. And suddenly Robert Sink wasn’t just some older man in a comfortable chair, he was a man in charge who squared his shoulders and gave orders that others had damn well better follow if they knew what was best for them. The transformation had been quick and Sobel found himself both unsettled and humbled.
“You’re not here because you don’t know what’s going on in your life,” Sink went on to say, “you’re here because you’re lousy at controlling your temper and Mr. Strayer doesn’t want to lose a vital member of the company just because you don’t play well with others. You ain’t falling apart at the seams, you just need someone to talk to.”
They stared each other down for a while. Sobel blinked first, looked away, backed down.
“So, I’m here,” Sink said, shifting back into his more avuncular stance with remarkable ease. “Talk to me. Or don’t talk to me. But either way, y’all need to quit your bitching and act like you got a pair because that dog just ain’t gonna hunt.”
Sobel paused, blinking. “Mr. Horton always says that.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised that’s one of Ollie’s favored quotes,” Sink remarked with a smirk. “Who do you think he learned it from?”
Sobel could only gape.
“Close your mouth, son, you don’t want flies getting in there.”
Sobel complied. “Yes, sir.”
“So what was it that you were about to say about Will Evans?”
The younger man sighed heavily but started talking. “We’re having a company costume party this weekend. Technically speaking it’s supposed to be for April Fool's but the way things time out it’s also going to be a celebration of this major deal that we just closed. Mr. Strayer and Mr. Horton think it’ll be a fun way to celebrate and encourage morale.”
“Sounds like fun,” Sink commented.
“I guess so.” Sobel shrugged. “I mean, if that’s your thing.”
“Are you going to dress up?”
Sobel didn’t exactly wince but he did shift uncomfortably on the couch. “I don’t know, maybe.” He sighed again. “Will wants me to.”
The corner of Sink’s mouth twitched again with that almost-smile. “Uh-huh.”
“Will asked me to go,” Sobel murmured, more to himself than to his therapist. “He wanted me to go with him. I don’t know if I can. I hate company events. I’m never any good at them. What if I go and make a fool of myself?”
“What if you go and have a good time?”
“I never have a good time. No one ever wants to hang out with me.”
“Will seems like he wants to hang out with you.”
Sobel swallowed. “He doesn’t know me that well yet.”
Dr. Sink raised his eyebrows. “Now Mr. Sobel, what’d I tell you about this whining bullshit?”
Herbert Sobel couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, sir.”
“So go to the party and have yourself a Goddamn good time.”
His smile grew. “Yes, sir.” He shook his head. “I’ll probably hate it.”
“Well, you’ll never know until you give it a try. Besides, Will asked you. Will wants you there. That ought to mean something.”
And in barely more than a whisper, Sobel uttered, “I hope it does.”
This is totally dedicated to alouette_sparra because she alone knows what's coming next.