She had removed all the DVDs from their case holdings; maybe she threw them away.  Samuel could not even go to his private DVD stash under his bed to feel better tonight, to draw the life of fantasy around him so he could escape into his own private reality.<br/><br/>About two years ago, the FBI picked him up at the local college.  At the time, as many eccentrics do, they found him living in the custodial basement due to his lack of suitable housing.  He would live down there at night when the janitors were away.  At first he thought he was in trouble; that's when he met Lisa.  (Then he realized he really was in trouble.)<br/><br/>Apparently, she didn't work directly for the FBI but was an outside consultant.  A program had begun called GTY, Gifted and Talented Youth.  Yet, GTY operated under the premise that some had special abilities that were useful to the FBI.  He was not sure who yet, but he suspected his math teacher, Dr. Dennyson, may have "turned him in".  Mr. Dennyson was a left over hippie from yesteryear (it was quite funny watching a grown man with a bad hip still come into class dressed like a 70s flower child).  He spoke so much about peace and love, and how numbers can all be extrapolated to a higher cause; that cause was love of all mankind.  How he combined math and a seeming drug induced utopia was beyond him.  Nonetheless, the teacher often spoke about "finding your inner abilities" and apparently this hipster "meditated" on each individual student's gifts and abilities and often asked the "higher powers" to develop such talents to the better good of humankind.<br/><br/>Now, he was living here with his guardian.  The first session with her was the roughest; but it was there he had broken the first case.  The FBI heard chatter about a local terrorist plot; not like there was much going on inside of the terrorist's heads.  Just hatred, anger, and a desire to get to the after life and hook up with all those virgins.  Subsequent sessions sometimes occurred at the police stations to deal with domestic crimes.<br/><br/>But the thing that bothered Samuel the most about Lisa was, somehow, he could relate to her.  She caught him staring into her eyes one day.  No, he couldn't necessarily see someone's soul.  But, he could tell Lisa lived her life as if she was trying desperately to ignite a spark she had previously lost.  And lost something, or someone she had.  He knew this because one day - she had caused all the walls in his inner self to drop when she promised she would not hurt him if he would but release his feelings to her, whatever they were.  It had happened only once and in a weak moment, and he was ready to burst out with answers to all her questions.  But then he felt it; the loneliness.  He knew the feeling quite well.<br/><br/>Except, it wasn't his loneliness; it was hers.  From her emanated feelings as if there was some terrible emptiness caused suddenly by a perfect treasure being ripped out of her heart.  Since he had never really gotten to close to anyone before, the feeling was foreign to him.  He knew he could give in at that very moment and make a connection with her; but he was afraid of what that would mean for the future.  It was easier to yank up those walls again and worry about Lisa ... from afar.<br/><br/>The phone rang; looking at his clock, it was 12:52 a.m.  Damn.  Luckily, Samuel had discovered which frequency on his ham radio was picking up any transmissions emitted from the mobile phone house unit.  He fired up his rig, turned the dial past annoying conversations of nothing (why in the world would anyone want to be a ham anyway) until he reached the house phone frequency.  He didn't like what he heard.<br/><br/>"Look; my boss is asking for a break in the case.  Geez, Lisa - I wish we had the kid on full time.  It would be so much easier.  Look, why don't you bring him down here tomorrow.  The family is hysterical, they're sure their best, most well behaved son ever would never run away from home.  But he's been gone a week now, and they want some answers.  Can't you talk to him or something?  I don't want to have to ask the feds to get involved in this one, Lisa.  Please?"<br/><br/>Damn!  Another case came up and quickly too.  Samuel turned the radio off.  He wondered if she would knock on his door shortly, or would she spin the tale so he wouldn't have to go?  He decided he better get some sleep and hope she would broach the conversation tomorrow; who knew what tomorrow would bring.  He would pray to god that his sleep was deeper and dreamless.  And if he made it to morning, he would hope it was a normal day.  He liked spending time with Lisa and her psychological exercises, even if it was her doing all the talking.  Then he found himself wondering if she would wear those curvy jeans again.  He smiled briefly, distracting himself with the non-essentials of life.  Or were they essential, he just refused to be human sometimes?