"Please, take a seat."
Duncan strode bravely towards the lone chair in the centre of the room and sat down. The lady smiled politely and glanced at her pad of paper where she read previous notes that she had taken on the Highlander.
"So, Duncan," she began, smoothly reverting to a French accent. "What would you do if I said that I was in trouble because an old enemy of yours was coming to kill me just to aggravate you?"
Duncan's chivalry perked its ears up.
"Who? Where?" He jumped up from his chair and in one smooth movement ended up very close to the lady on the other side of the desk.
"Don't you fear, m'lady. I will not let any harm come to you while you are under my protection."
The lady smiled sweetly and made a few notes and ticks on her paper.
"How very sweet of you, Duncan."
Duncan grinned proudly.
"Now if you wouldn't mind, could you back off a little and sit back down in your chair?"
Duncan's face fell.
"What about my old enemy? I shouldn't leave you for a second. It's too dangerous." His eyes glazed over as he fell into flashback land after spotting a convenient, totally unrelated, chunk of bluetack on the window to help him regress.
"Tessa! NOOOOOOOO!!!"
The lady grinned and ticked her paper again. She snapped her fingers. Duncan's eyes fluttered back into the present, and in mild embarrassment he quickly crossed the room to take his chair again.
"Now, Duncan...," the lady began.
"Yes, ma charmin' lass?"
The lady raised an eyebrow, then ticked a few more boxes on her page.
"I'd like you to tell me what you see in the inkblots I'm about to show you," she said while reaching for her desk drawer.
"Anythun' yew sey, ma darlin' woman."
The lady glanced up and raised an eyebrow at the sight of the Highlander smoothing his hair back and grinning dumbly at her. She paused in opening her desk drawer long enough to tick a few more boxes on her paper. After retrieving a pile of inkblots from the drawer and placing them on her desk, she interlaced her fingers and smiled.
"Are you ready to begin, Duncan?"
Duncan grinned.
"Whenev'r yew are."
The lady smiled and passed the first inkblot over the table to the Highlander.
"Tell me what you see, Duncan. Whatever comes to your mind first."
The highlander glanced momentarily at the paper, hardly noticing it, before leaning forward in his chair with a cheeky grin.
"Ai see a ravishin' woom'n ak'ross th' teeble from mi who jist geve mi a borin' old inkblot," he replied, his accent becoming thicker with every word.
"Concentrate, Duncan," replied the lady professionally after subtly ticking another box. "If you tell me what you see in the inkblots I might consider having dinner with you and them being kidnapped by your choice of evil immortal."
Duncan took the bait.
"Och! Wood ya reelly?"
"Possibly," replied the lady. "If you can get through this session in a professional manner."
Duncan pouted moodily.
The lady ticked more boxes. Putting down her pen, she motioned for Duncan to continue with the first inkblot.
"Ahhhhh...," the Highlander pondered in confusion as he stared at the black smudge on the paper. "I see... me..." he paused to smile self-indulgently. "How about that, they put me in an inkblot. I didn't know they knew me."
The lady motioned for him to continue.
"Ahhhhh... I see... a mirror...me looking into a mirror...me having a really good hair day, looking into a mirror...admiring myself...mmmmmm....."
His eyes glazed over as he delighted in his own appearance.
The lady handed him another inkblot after having to rip the first one away from his admiring glance.
"How about this one, then?"
Duncan stared at it.
"Ummmm... me rescuing...TESSA!...Och! eet's TESSA!"
The lady ticked more boxes and smiled.
"Thankyou Duncan. That will be all," she said after quickly retrieving the inkblot from the distressed highlander who was attempting to stuff it up his shirt.
"Oh, Ok," he replied, slightly dazed. He stood up and made for the door, before suddenly turning around with a hopeful expression.
"I behaved myself, didn't I," he asked the lady innocently.
"Yes, I suppose you did, Duncan," she replied.
"In that case, how about dinner tonight?"
The lady smiled.
"I said I'd consider it, but I'm afraid my answer is no as I don't involve myself with my clients."
Duncan's face dropped in rejection. He pouted impressively.
"Oh. Maybe some other time."
Dragging his feet, he slowly exited the room and plonked dejectedly into a chair in the waiting room.
The remaining three to be interviewed became even more wary of the lady as they all stared at the recovery bench which now occupied two rather than one. They all glared at the lady suspiciously as she came up to the group. She smiled brightly at them in response.
"Ok, I'd like to see..."
"Wait," interjected Methos suddenly. "I'm not going in there if I'm going to end up sitting with the obsessive paranoid and the pouty reject over there. Uh, huh. No way, not me."
The lady smiled again.
"It's completely up to you how you choose to respond to the interview, Methos. Speaking of which, you're next."
Methos gulped.