Zoie smiled at Steven. She then looked down at the watch on her wrist. "Its getting late, I think I'm going to shower and head to bed. It there a specific time we have to have the sessions?"

Vincent was quiet, looking down into his tea for a moment before going and putting several full packets of sugar into the cold liquid. The sugar probably wouldn't dissolve into the cold water well, but that was fine with him, he could drink straight up, damp sugar sludge just fine - It was delicious to him after all. Vincent knew he had a sweet tooth, and didn't really try that hard to hide it, although he knew it probably wasn't that good for him - Although it was alright. Vincent looked up around the kitchen as he drank his iced tea, silverblue eyes narrowing and mouth curving down into a tight frown.

He set his tea down and opened all the cupboards, starting to rearrange everything as he pleased. If he was going to reside here, then everything would have to be perfect, just to his liking. He took all the dishes and cups and silverware out of where they had originally been placed, looking at the items and the kitchen once more before putting them away where he pleased, making everything look perfectly uniform. Yes, it would be perfect, Vincent would make sure of that. He started to run the water, washing the dishes which had even the slightest smudge on them, drying them to a shine before putting them away.

He ignored everyone else for now, saying nothing. He had nothing to say, and they had not spoken to him - No words were necessary from the albino man. Vincent was sure that Anthony was 'reading'. 'Reading' in this case, meant 'Sleeping'. Although if he went in and woke his brother, telling him to awaken immediately, Anthony would give him the same answer he had given him and anyone else for years: 'I'm not asleep, i'm just slightly less awake'. Fool.

Steven smiled. "Oh, no. Not really. While we will plan out individual sessions, I will be available anytime I am needed." He excused himself from the table, grabbing both her plates and his, seeing as that Cin had not finished her plate. "I'll take care of them." He took the dirty dishes into the kitchen, where he stopped a moment to greet Vincent. "Hello, Vincent. Have a pleasant walk this afternoon?" He set the dishes in the sink, quite dilberatly leaving them for the moment. He wanted to see want Vincent would do--was his perfectionism really as bad as his brother made it out to be? He opened the cupboards, smiling as he saw that Vincent had taken the liberty of organizing them and setting them in straight lines, completely changing the original order. "Let's see...mugs, mugs, mugs...here we are!" He found the cupboard where Vincent had placed them, moving them around as he 'looked' for his favorite cup, smiling as he did. It was white with red lettering stating "THE DOCTOR WILL SEE YOU NOW". "My favorite cup," Steven smiled, setting it down. He quickly found the tea, then dileberatly took his time in searching for the kettle. "Now, now...where have I put it?" He looked to Vincent, who looked well beyond annoyed. "Vincent, have you perchance seen where the kettle has gone?"

Zoie watched as Steven cleared the plates. She smiled and walked to her room. When she went to open the door to her surprise it was unlocked. She opened the door and saw Tony laying on the bed with a book over his face. She giggled to herself and quietly grabbed some new clothes and headed to the shower trying not to wake Tony up.

Vincent continued to wash and organize, taking utmost care to make them perfectly shiny and clean. When the doctor spoke to him, he very briefly side glanced at Steven. "Good afternoon. The walk was acceptably pleasant, thank you very much for asking." he said, although his thanks was about as heartfelt as a the welcome of a moody secretary at the DMV. When Vincent saw the dishes be placed in the sink, he immediately started to wash them with the same sense of urgency as the other dishes. Suddenly, the sound of shifting and movement reached his ears and his head immediately snapped up to look at where they were coming from. His eyes widened and his lips parted in a slight gape. He was changing his perfect order. He immediately dropped what he was doing, thankfully into the sink and not the tile floor, and rushed over to rearrange them. He cringed as he realized that they had been unnecessarily touched and took them all out of the cupboard once again.

Out of a misplaced sense of paranoia, he then took everything else he had put away out of the cupboards and retreated the room for a brief moment. He stormed into his room where Tony was sleeping, but was much too concentrated on his task to notice anyone else in the room. He searched through his bag until he found what he was looking for - rubber gloves, the same thing he had made Tony wear to avoid getting smudges on his car. He returned and slipped the gloves on. When he heard Dr. Goodstep ask where the kettle was, Vincent spedwalked across the kitchen and took it out of another one of the cupboards, setting the kettle down on the counter on a paper towel to avoid any scratching of the counter. Vincent then went back to his cleaning frenzy, starting to wash every single thing all over again and put them away after giving them a thorough inspection. His expression was that of an intense scowl, eyes narrowed with jaw clenched.

-------

Tony slept peacefully, snoozing. The book on his head was one of Vincent's, meaning that it was extremely boring. It was some book by some guy, 'The Scarlet Letter' was it? Whatever, it was boring. The albino rolled onto his side, yawning lazily, book falling off his face and onto the floor with a quiet clattering. Tony couldn't help being lazy, he always had been. Sometimes he would wake up in the morning and just go back to sleep thinking 'I'll procrastinate later'. Yeah, it was his favorite past time.

Steven smiled to himself. Yup, it was purty bad. The man got rubber gloves and rewashed the dishes, for Pete's sake. He recorded the happenings in his mental notepad, filling the kettle with water, unintentionally overfilling it, causing it to spill over, splashing some of the cold water onto the counter. "Whoops, my bad." Rather than let Vincent worry about the spill, he took a hand towel from one of the drawers, mopping up the spill, then hanging it upon the stove handle to dry.

He then placed the kettle on the burner, turning the flame on, watching Vincent work. The man was dedicated, that was certain. As the kettle whistled, he took the flame off, then making his tea. He placed to kettle back, then poured in some honey, stirring it in to allow it to dissolve. He then took his cup and spoon back to the table, sitting down and retrieving his pad of yellow paper from his jacket, writing his mental notes down, lest he forget them.

Vincent continued to clean the dishes with the dedication of a british royal guard - The ones that didn't smile no matter what you did anytime, anywhere, no matter what. The albino was extremely careful when washing the dishes, doing his best to not leave smudges of his own. When he heard the splashing of water that wasn't from him, his head snapped up and his eyes were wide. He momentarily forgot to breathe as he spotted the cold water that was spilled onto the counter. As Steven started to mop it up, he slowly nodded to himself, calming himself down.

But now he would have to clean the counter after he cleaned the dishes. That table over there was sure to have fingerprints on it too... And god forbid all the other rooms... The bathrooms would surely a disaster zone... No, those could wait. Kitchen first. People ate in the kitchen, and any amount of filth risked illness and ailment. The protection of the body was important. If Vincent got sick, he couldn't clean. If he couldn't clean, then he couldn't fix every imperfection in the apartment.

Turning back to his work, he carefully washed a wine glass. After washing it, he raised it up to the light, inspecting it closely. There were no fingerprints, no signs of liquid staining inside, everything seemed alright to him. He placed it carefully in the cupboard, doing this for every glass that followed. When he finished, he backed up a bit and passed every open cupboard, doing a last moment inspection and moving things a tiny bit. Slowly, he nodded and approved it. Then, he moved on to start to wash the counter and table, trying to avoid anywhere that Steven was currently occupying or using. He wiped down the counters and cleaned nearly everything on it, which actually didn't take that long since Vincent flitted about the kitchen like some hell-bent-on-cleaning whirling dervish.

But finally, after ten to fifteen minutes later, Vincent finally seemed to be finished. He rubbed his thumb, pointer, and middle finger together in thought, the rubber making a quiet squeaking sound each time he did. After a moment, a calm smile graced his expression and he walked to the trashcan, throwing the rubber gloves away. Under the gloves, his hands were reddish and raw from the rushed forced of his cleaning. Picking up his nearly forgotten cup of Iced Snowy Moon Oolong tea, he sat down at the table and started to calmly finish it off. Yes, Vinceint was highly satisfied. No doubt that would only last as long as his cleaning job, the entirety of the kitchen smelling like soap.

Zoie got out of the shower and put her tank top and shorts on. She walked out of the steamy bathroom and put her dirty clothes in the hamper. She pulled her hair up into a bun and slipped on her slippers. She sat on the bed and realized she was thirsty. She walked back into the kitchen to grab some water. She noticed Doctor Goodstep and Vincent were still in the kitchen. She watched Doctor Goodstep scribble on his note pad and Vincent drank his tea. She smiled at both of them as she walked to the cabinet and grabbed a glass and filled it with water. She turned to return to her room and for some odd reason she felt like putting a little extra swing in her hips as she left the room.

Steven stopped for a moment from his writing to sip at his tea, seeing Zoie, returning the smile with an accompanied nod. As she left, glass of water in hand, he could not help but to notice the stray sway in her hips. It struck a nerve in Steven, his hand suddenly clutching the pen tightly. He was reminded of a memory. A memory of her.

He cleared his throat, playing off the incident as a tiredness. "I will be in my room if anyone should need me." He excused himself from the table, making his way to the room where his desk, drawer, and bed were located, shutting the door softly behind himself. He sat down at his desk,the pad of paper before him. "It will not happen again...never. Never." He shook his head, writing a final note in his bad handwriting.

"Zoie: reminds of Sarah. Caution."