This was a request made by Jazzcuzi at the psychowhatsits discord! She asked for anything Phoebe/Mikhail, and specifically mentioned them waiting in line at Rite Aid. Hope you like it!


Automotive repair shops. Insurance offices. Phoebe let her gaze wander over to the shelves next to the pharmacy window across from her. They were stocked with the same over-the-counter medications that had been there the month before, and the month before that. Her eyes drifted over them without taking any of them in, the bottles and boxes holding little interest for her. The DMV…

At the pharmacy window, the man in front of her conferred with the technician in tones too hushed for Phoebe to pick up on. She had been waiting behind this guy for a good ten minutes, and if she had to guess, would be stuck staring at the back of his Yankee's jersey for five more minutes before her turn came. To keep herself entertained as she waited, she was trying to mentally list places that were more boring than the pharmacy at Rite Aid. The bank. She looked up at the ceiling, the bright white lights above her making her squint. Stuck in a traffic jam…

You have very dull day ahead of you, Phoebe Love. The words, thought with a deep, familiar Russian accent, flowed suddenly into her mind, causing her to jump. She turned to see Mikhail Bulgakov standing a fair distance behind her, one of those white surgical masks attached to his face. She could not see his mouth, but there was a glint of amusement in his dark eyes as he looked at her. Scheduling boring errands all on one day seems an unfortunate planning decision. Better to spread it throughout week.

A light blush spread to Phoebe's cheeks. She'd been thinking pretty loudly and hadn't bothered to put any shields up, never considering that she would run into anybody that could overhear them. "Oh, I wasn't...those weren't my plans for the day," she said, chuckling nervously as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "I was...trying to think of places that are more boring to be than here." She cringed inwardly at how silly that mental exercise sounded when shared out loud. "You know, since there really isn't anything else to do."

Ah. Mikhail nodded his understanding. Was wondering how one would schedule getting caught in traffic. Or why. Thought perhaps it was American thing.

Phoebe laughed at the idea of anybody intentionally getting themselves caught in traffic. Mikhail laughed along with her, though not for very long, as it seemed that any sort of vocal noise caused him pain. Are you okay? she asked, switching over to telepathy for his benefit. He looked like he had seen better days- his skin was a bit paler than usual, and there was a slight edge of discomfort in his expression.

Mikhail shrugged off her concern. Strep throat, he told her, waving his hand at his neck. Doctor prescribe antibiotic and said Mikhail need to stay out of work until fully recovered.

He sounded annoyed about that, which in turn made Phoebe annoyed. As they should have, Phoebe thought, crossing her arms over her chest. Strep throat is really contagious. She was glad that they worked in different departments- who knew how many other people the infection had already spread to! Really, you should have had somebody else pick this up for you, she lectured, pointing at the white slip of paper he held crumpled in his fist. You need to be at home, resting.

The corners of his eyes creased as he smiled at her behind his mask, Her heart began to beat a little faster. Is fine. Doctor said is not so serious yet. Can go out for small periods of time so long as I wear mask. He plucked the strap of the mask and let it go, snapping it against his skin. Nice of Agent Love to worry about Mikhail so. Having pretty girl care so much will make recovery faster.

That's the cheesiest thing I've heard today, Phoebe thought, unable to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching upward. I really hope you feel better, though. Strep throat sucks.

Yes. He wiped his slightly damp forehead with the back of his hand. First time with this sickness. Learning experience is always useful...but not fun.

Hmm, yeah. There was a pause in the conversation after this, and Phoebe wasn't sure if she should end it here and turn back around, or if she should try to rekindle it. She wanted to keep talking to him; it made the time go by faster than listing the world's most boring places in her head and besides that, she didn't get to talk to him that much these days outside of work. It certainly didn't hurt that he was still really cute, despite being unwell.

At the same time, she was concerned that their conversation would shift over to her reasons for waiting in line here at this Rite Aid. I have nothing to be ashamed of, she reassured herself, careful to keep that thought closely guarded. She clutched the strap of her purse tightly. Within it, the prescription for the anti-anxiety meds she'd been taking for the past six months was neatly folded. There's nothing wrong with taking care of yourself mentally. That was what her therapist, her parents, her mentors and her friends told her, and what she told herself and planned to eventually tell her patients once she became a professional. And yet, she felt a nervous twisting in her gut at the thought of Mikhail, the guy she'd had an on-again, off-again crush on for the past decade, finding out about her need for the medication. It was a silly thing to care so much about, and it added frustration with herself to the mix of emotions she was currently experiencing.

Agent Nein's Telepathy Class.

Phoebe blinked, the statement bringing her out of her increasingly anxious thoughts. "Huh?" she said out loud.

Agent Nein's Telepathy Class, Mikhail repeated. Most boring place to be in all of camp. Mikhail used to go as a test of endurance and failed many times to remain awake.

Oh my God! Memories of the most irritatingly tedious class she'd ever been forced to take began flooding back to her. I remember that! The slowest hours of my life were spent sitting in his class! She shook her head, recalling how she and Quentin had once fallen asleep right in the middle of trying to read each other's minds. He used to go on and on about things none of us could understand. In the most monotone voice ever! Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. Did he really think anyone understood a word he said?

Mikhail tapped his chin. Only went to a few myself. No point in wasting time that could be spent searching for hairless bear. His brows furrowed in thought. Always wondered why Skinny Scientist taught in such an ineffective way.

Maybe that was the point, Phoebe offered. Maybe he didn't want to teach the class, so he intentionally made it so boring that nobody would want to show up.

Then he would be free to return his own illegal experimentation, Mikhail finished, approving of her assessment. Yes, that would be clever way to get out of teaching obligation.

Well, he did a good job of that. Phoebe made to take a step forward, then caught herself and stopped, remembering Mikhail's contagious state. I swear, the only class I took that even came close to being as boring was 8th grade Geography.

Mikhail's eyebrows shot up. Geography is not boring, he thought, his tone firm enough to convey his disagreement but light enough to imply he had not taken any offense to Phoebe's statement. Many useful things about Geography. Teaches necessary skills for surviving in the wilderness.

I'm sure it's super interesting, Phoebe was quick to amend, but not the way Mrs. Buchanan taught it. She shuddered. So many vocabulary tests…

Geography best taught in field, yes. Mikhail's eyes suddenly locked onto hers, the intensity in his gaze making heat creep into her face. You busy Saturday?

This Saturday? Phoebe went over her schedule and then told him she had nothing planned for that day. Why? she asked, her stomach already fluttering in anticipation of his answer.

Saturday we go on hike, he offered, his dark eyes already glittering with excitement. Mikhail help Phoebe learn geography the way it was meant to be learned. No vocabulary tests necessary.

The 'yes' she wanted to answer with was on the tip of her tongue, but Phoebe held herself back. You're sick, she pointed out, You can't go hiking if you've got strep throat. Especially not with another person.

I will be better by then, Mikhail replied simply.

At this, Phoebe laughed, unable to hide her amusement at his response. It's Tuesday. How are you going to make a full recovery by Saturday?

Will rest extra hard.

Phoebe had to admire his confidence. I don't think illness works that way, but alright.

She could see the way his facial muscles shifted underneath the mask as he gave her what was no doubt a cocky grin. Her hand twitched as the impulse to reach out and remove the mask so she could see his smile flashed into her mind. She jammed her hand into her jacket pocket to prevent herself from doing something so stupid. Mikhail will make it work, he insisted, especially with the extra motivation. So what do you say?

"Next!"

That was not what Phoebe had to say. The pharmacy tech had finished with the Yankees fan and was now looking expectantly over at her. "I have to go...you know," she said, gesturing back at the window. "But yeah, that sounds fun." She took a few steps towards the window, then stopped and turned back to him. "Only if you're not sick anymore!" she added, pointing at him. "The last thing I want is to catch strep throat in the middle of a hike."

Mikhail nodded. "My immune system will wrestle this virus into submission. Do not doubt that." The seriousness in his tone was slightly undercut by how scratchy his voice was.

"Sure you will." Phoebe waved goodbye and made a mental note to keep her next couple Saturdays free in case Mikhail couldn't make a miraculous recovery through sheer force of will. But if anybody could defy biology, it would be him.