Hey all:

This is my first Royal Pains fic and it's a bit more of a character study. I want to take them out for a bit of a test drive before starting a longer story. Unfortunately, I don't get as much chance to watch the show as I'd like, so any constructive criticism is welcomed.

TITLE: The Process

AUTHOR: Simply_Cath

DISCLAIMER: Don't own the characters, everything belongs to the series and the network.

DISTRIBUTION: Please get my permission first.

RATING: PG

CONTENT: Little language, mature themes, maybe?

SPOILERS: None

SUMMARY:

The Process

By: Simply_Cath

As she approached the guest house, Divya wondered if there was some kind of concert going on, somewhere on the grounds. She dismissed the idea fairly quickly; generally the Beatles were not the music of choice for residents of the Hamptons. When she arrived at the guest house, she was surprised to realize that the cacophony was coming from somewhere within. Curious, she grabbed her notes and caught Hank's eye and he gestured for her to come inside. Divya was surprised to see that he seemed unaffected by the noise, typing out his notes as though nothing was amiss. The song soon changed to another, though she couldn't recognize the band.

"What the hell is going on?" She demanded, barely able to hear her own voice. Again, Hank showed no reaction. "I said: WHAT-?" The music suddenly paused for a moment, but she couldn't stop the yell before it came out "IS GOING ON?" She blinked, wincing at the volume.

"Oh." Hank finally popped out the earplugs he was wearing and smiled a little sheepishly. "It's Evan; sorry."

"Evan?" As if summoned, Divya spotted the younger Lawson brother walking down the upstairs hallway. If he saw them, he gave no notice and simply continued on his way, his head slightly bowed. Though she was too far away to be certain, he did seem to be muttering to himself. "And why on Earth does he need to be causing that kind of racket?" She asked, handing him his notes.

"It's part of the Process," Hank said. When he saw her puzzled expression, he continued, "Tax season. When the Process is going on, I put on the earplugs, stay away from him and do my best not to talk to, look at or think about Evan."

"Think about him?" Divya echoed sceptically, arching an eyebrow.

Hank smiled a little, "Better safe than sorry."

Evan wandered back from wherever he'd gone, giving them a halfhearted wave of acknowledgement. Hank immediately put his earplugs back in.

"Do you need a hand?" Divya surprised herself with the question. Here she was with a rare day off and she was going to squander it. Though truth be told, it wasn't as if she'd made any other plans. When she realized Hank hadn't heard her, she tapped his shoulder and repeated the question.

"Yeah, thanks, that'd be great."

She winced when the music started up; "Do you have an extra pair?" She gestured to his ears, pleased beyond all measure when he handed her a box.

After over an hour's work, Divya set down the file she'd just finished and arched her back, trying to work some of the stiffness out of her muscles. She was thankful for the earplugs, because in the entire time they'd been working the music had not stopped. "So what is the Process?" She asked Hank. They'd developed a method of communicating that was one part lip reading, one part writing things down and part pure simple luck.

Hank shook his head. "I can't explain the Process. The Process has to be seen."

At times like these, Divya mused, it was easy to tell the two men were brothers. She debated a moment and then decided that her eyes could use the break. She gestured to Hank, who stood up and followed her upstairs.

As they approached the source of the music, Divya couldn't help but wonder how Evan wasn't deaf by now. She could feel the bass beating against her ribcage. She made her way down the hallway, towards the room with all the lights on and an open door and her jaw fell open slightly at the sight that greeted her.

It looked like Evan was sitting in the middle of a tornado. His desk was actually three writing tables brought together, into an open ended square. Each desk had shelves built around the computer monitor, maximizing space. Evan had one full computer set up and a laptop at the other, but at the moment, he was using neither. She was surprised to see him writing furious notes by hand, in pencil. He even had one tucked behind his ear.

As she took a step closer, she was surprised to see that, upon closer inspection, the mess wasn't really a mess at all. While there was more papers on the desks than Divya cared to guess at, it was all organized into more than a dozen neat piles.

Evan caught a glimpse of them out of the corner of his eye, blinked and grinned. His eyes were overly wide and seemed entirely too bright. He flicked off the music. "What's up? " Without waiting for an answer, he took a long swing from an energy drink that was at the corner of the table. In fact, Divya noted, along the far edge of the desk were alternating energy drink and water bottles. Their placement struck a perfect balance between being within reaching distance, but also quite far from the papers.

"Just checking in, seeing how you're doing," Hank said. "You need anything?"

Evan shook his head. "Nah, I'm good." He stared at them oddly, as if trying to nudge them out the door with sheer force of will.

"This seems like... more paper than usual." Was all Hank could think to say. When it came to financial matters, Hank was completely out of his element and he was sure it showed on his face.

Evan shrugged, "Well yeah." He gestured to one pile, "Evan R. Lawson; that one's you, that one's HankMed." He swivelled the chair around slightly, "Eddie Lawson."

"You're doing Dad's taxes?"

Evan snorted, "Dude, believe me, he needs them. " He knocked back the last of his drink and tossed it off the desk, the can landing perfectly In the blue recycling bin he'd placed there earlier. Next to that was a grey bin with a good amount of paper in it already. "Okay, you guys go; Daddy's on a roll." With that he flicked on his music again, effectively dismissing his visitors.

After the discharge, Hank suggested that they break for lunch and Divya agreed, pleased to avoid the noise for a little while. They decided on a nearby waterfront restaurant.

"So," Divya asked from behind the rim of her coffee cup; "Has the Process always been ... like this?" She was a little annoyed at her choice in diction, but Hank understood.

"Yep," he said. "For as long as he's been doing taxes at least; but it has been tweaked over the years. I told him he had to start drinking water or I'd stick him with an IV." Hank smirked as he remembered Evan's look of wide-eyed horror at the suggestion.

Their food arrived and Divya eventually looked up from her grilled chicken Caesar salad. "And has anyone ever told him that he doesn't need to do all the work in one day?"

Hank set down his fork and his smile was reminiscent of someone thinking about an inside joke. "He says he likes the challenge." His voice softened a little. "He's got at what he does. He was third in his graduating class."

Diyva was a little surprised to realize that she hadn't known that about Evan. It seemed like the sort of thing the younger Lawson would bring up as often as possible.

After a brief, companionable silence, the two began discussing their files once more. It made for interesting and productive conversation throughout the meal. Once they finished, Hank paid for the meal in spite of Divya's protests. "Evan loves writing off business meals," he explained.

The guest house was surprisingly quiet as they pulled up. "You don't suppose he's finished, do you?" She asked.

Hank shook his head; "He's probably taking a break."

"How could you possibly know that?" She asked.

"Because he has to," Hank shrugged as he stepped out of the car. "Water and breaks or mandatory or he's banned from doing my taxes."

"That was your grand threat?"

"He wants to make sure they're done right. And Lawson boys can be real perfectionists."

"I would never have guessed," She drawled and found herself heading upstairs to check on Evan's progress.

To her eye, the papers had definitely shifted around and the pile in the recycling bin had grown considerably larger. "Are you hungry?" She asked. Evan looked at her, blinking owlishly. Divya got the distinct impression that he had not heard a word she'd just said. "Hungry?" She repeated.

"Huh? Oh, nah," he turned away, fussing with the contents of an opened drawer and pulling out a couple of things. He flicked the match twice and brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a deep drag. "Before you go into lecture mode, it takes me like a year to get through a pack and Hank has already given me all the lectures, so you can save your breath." He took another drag, exhaling slowly, letting the smoke drift up towards the ceiling. He let his eyes almost close, feeling the tension in his shoulders leech out.

"Do you always write everything out before typing?" Asked Divya, leaning against the doorframe.

He nodded; "Same reason as you guys do it – keeps me from making mistakes." He finished the cigarette, opened a fresh bottle of water and nodded. "All right," he nodded to himself, cracking his fingers. "It's the home stretch, time to rock the house."

Divya hurried downstairs and managed to get her earplugs in with moments to spare.

"That's the last of it!" Hank yelled, his voice lost under a barrage of Lady Gaga lyrics. He shut his final notebook and shook out his hand to restore circulation, and then stretched out his aching back. He glanced at his watch and say that it was nearly nine.

All at once, the music stopped. The sudden void of silence as disconcerting. Hank cautiously took out his earplugs as he had a moment of insane paranoia. He was half expecting Evan to crank the music back up just to mess with him.

Divya removed her earplugs as well. "Is it over?" Her voice seemed unusually loud in the vacuum of silence.

"This is the last part of the Process." Hank smiled, "and my favourite part." With that, Hank started back up the stairs.

Curious, Divya followed suit. All of the papers were stacked neatly on top of one shelf. Both computers were off and two bottles of water and one can of energy drink were untouched.

Evan had made his way over to the loveseat at the far end of the room and was completely asleep, resting on his stomach with one arm hanging off the side, his fingertips grazing the floor.

Hank walked over to his brother and covered him with a blanket, then shut the blinds. He had a soft smile on his face that Divya had never seen before. She got the impression that Hank had not had much occasion to play big brother lately.

The two turned and stepped out of the room. Hank carefully shut the door.

"Does he know about that part of the Process?"

The look on Hank's face more than answered her question.

THE END

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.

Cath