bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,


Author: BmblBee
Paring: S/X
Rating: Adult NC17
Warnings: M/M sexual situations, adult language, reference of violence.
Disclaimer: The Bee owns nothing in this world but her own peace of mind.
I have no claim on any of the characters or products named and make no profit
from my stories.

Summary: AU (Human? Vampire?)
This is the simple tale of a successful psychiatrist with a busy practice.
Dr. Alexander Harris lives and works in the rich and colorful area of the Florida Keys
and everything about his life seems right on track. Then, one day a man comes to
him for help. He is troubled with a history of violence that he hopes therapy can
teach him to control. Clear cut? Maybe not.

As always, thanks to the wonderful Petxnd for the amazing banners and loyal friendship

Alex was tired. He rubbed his hands over his scratchy, dry eyes and felt the stubble
of a 5 o'clock shadow on his cheeks and chin. He scowled as he glanced down at the
sinfully expensive Italian loafers he had been lured by a colorful magazine ad to buy.
They promised to give him an air of cosmopolitan sophistication. So far all they had
given him were two blisters and a pinched pinky toe. He wondered if he had time
to kick them off before his next appointment arrived.

It had been a long day, as all Tuesdays, by his habit, were. It was the one day of the
week that he kept his office open late to see appointments that were unable to come
to him during his regular 10-6 schedule hours.

Usually the people he saw in the evening were important, successful businessmen who
kept even longer, later hours than he did. They were also men who, because of their
station in life, preferred the subtle confidentiality of seeing a therapist at a time of the
day least likely to be observed by their competitors, family and friends. The type of
men who still saw therapy as a sign of weakness or mental instability.

Alex didn't mind. For the kind of money they paid him, he was more than willing to
accommodate them, and after all, even rich people had problems. Standing behind
his desk, he checked his calendar and was relieved to see that he had only one more
appointment before he could lock up and head home. A hot shower, a frozen dinner
and a couple chapters of that book he had been trying to read for the past month
sounded like just the ticket he needed to unwind. Sadly, at 35 years old, it was Alex's
idea of a perfect night.


Alex slipped his suit coat and his professional persona back on as he straightened
his tie making sure his appearance exuded an air of confidence before pushing the
flashing res button on the intercom.

"Yes, Iris?"
"Dr. Harris, your appointment is here."
"Thank you Iris. Please show him in and then you may go."
"Thank you, Doctor."

Alex stood confidently by his desk and waited while his receptionist knocked briefly
and opened the door. She then stepped aside to allow the man behind her to enter
and she pleasantly introduced them.

"Doctor Harris, this is William Pratt. Mr. Pratt, Doctor Harris."

Alex smiled warmly and extended his hand, welcoming the smaller blond man and
encouraging him to come in and have a seat. The patient tipped his head curiously at
the doctor, but made no move to shake his hand. Instead, he stepped into the room
and sat in the chair offered. Alex took no offence and was frankly not surprised. He
had a number of patients who refused to be touched. Musophobia seemed to be a
common phobia now days.

"Thanks for seeing me so late, Doctor. I'm not much a day person."

Alex nodded and sat down in his dark leather chair as he began his mental evaluation
of his patient. Clean, of seemingly average intelligence, English accent, pale, sickly?
Outwardly, he was careful to keep his expression pleasant and nonjudgemental.

"No problem. I'm glad to do whatever I can to help you out. Tell you what, since
this is our first meeting, why don't I tell you a bit about what you can expect from
our sessions and then when you are ready, you can tell me what it is that you hope to
gain from our time together."

The patient grinned as though he had just heard something humorous, something
unexpected. He nodded and crossed his legs.

"Sounds good, Doc."

Alex paused, it was odd but the accented lilt in the man's voice tickled a bit of a
de ja vu moment that he had no explanation for. Quickly dismissing it, he went on
with his practiced introductory session.

"Ah, yes, well, first, we try to be very relaxed and informal here, so please, call me
Alex. Now, starting out, we will meet once a week for an hour and during that hour
we can talk about anything that is on your mind. This is your time and there is no subject
off limits. If it is on your mind, let's explore it. Of course you can be assured of total
confidentiality. Nothing that you want to discuss is off limits and nothing you say will
ever leave this room."

The patient sat forward in his chair and seemed to try to read something in the doctor's
face. Was he searching for reassurance? For truth? Was he deciding if he really could
tell this man about what was happening to him? Could what he really needed be seen in
the Therapists eyes? Finally, he sat back and smirked.

"Well, Alex, that all sounds like just the ticket. I think you are going to be exactly what
I need. See I have this anger management problem with a small side order of twisted
reality. Course, we all see the world through different eyes, don't we Alex? And
whose to say that my reality is right and everyone else is wrong rather than the other
way around?"

Alex smiled easily. This patient was going to be an easy one. Articulate and open to
a discussion of interpretation of ideas, they would get to the root of his perceptions,
probably through his relationship with his mother and as far as the anger went, that
was standard therapy. He imagined six months or less, and this guy would be
happily cured.

"Well, William, I think we can work through your issues and help you come to some
agreeable resolutions."

"That's brilliant, Alex. I feel better all ready. Oh, and please, call me Spike."

Alex suddenly got a sharp pain in his lower back. He frowned and twisted in his
chair to relieve the pressure, chalking it up to the long workday. Spike watched him
closely. Deep down he had his doubts that this man was going to be able to help him,
especially once they got down to the real meat and potatoes of the issue. But he
was here and time was short. He had to try.

Hoisting himself out of his chair, Spike began wandering around the elegantly appointed
office. He must be a hell of a therapist, he mused, if the cost of the furniture was any

Alex rested his arms on his desk and watched his new patient wander around. It wasn't
out of the ordinary. Often new people would do so in order to feel more at home in an
uncomfortable, intimate setting. He knew when Spike was ready, he would speak.

Finally, Spike paused at the side of Alex's desk and he picked up the framed picture
of the beautiful, smiling woman. Her face beamed and her eyes shone in love.

"Lovely. Who is she?"

Alex nodded proudly.

"That's my wife. What about you Spike, are you married?"

Spike sat the picture back down and he snorted.

"No. Don't seem to have much luck with women, or men."
"Oh, are you gay?"
"Nah, I guess you'd have to say bi. A horny cock just wants in. Pussy or arse,
doesn't much matter."

Alex made a couple quick notes on his yellow pad.

"What about relationships? Do you have trouble building longterm relationships with
your sexual partners?"

Spike frowned and shuffled his feet.

"Yeah, would be nice, but doesn't seem to be in the cards for me. Was seeing a blond
girl for a while, but she dumped me. Said I was beneath her. Before that I was involved
with a guy. Big, strong, we had been together for years but never really together.
You know what I mean? I mean, sure, he would show up and fuck the hell out of me,
but then after he got his nut off, you could see the disgust in his face and he couldn't
get away fast enough. The prick."

Alex wrote some more then laid down his pen and clasped his hands together. The
patient's mention of sexual preference and crude language may have been a test to see
if the doctor would be judgmental. He wasn't.

"I'm sorry to hear that. You said you had anger problems, Spike. Did you find violence
became part of these relationships?"

Spike turned his back on the doctor to hide the feelings that were evident in his eyes.

"Yeah, I guess it did. There was a fair amount of fighting, physical and verbal. It
sounds worse than it was but, I suppose to an outsider like you, it would look
pretty bad."

Alex nodded knowingly. He had seen this in most of his young male patients. Society
was breeding a generation of people who accepted violence as a way of life and it was
causing the destruction of families as well as interpersonal relationships.

"You know, Spike, I think before we tackle your reality issues, we need to look at the
anger. I think once we can get a grip on that, you may find that you are able to look
at the world in a whole new light. One thing you may want to think about before we
talk again next week is that anger is never the first line emotion. By that I mean that
there is always another emotion that is evident first. It is that emotion that triggers the
anger. That first line emotion may be jealousy, insecurity, disappointment, fear, any
number of things. If we can identify that first line emotion, we can deal with it and the
anger will resolve itself."

Spike spun around and blinked. It made perfect sense and that was what shocked
him the most. He had never actually considered that the good doctor would be able
to help him. It almost gave him hope that when the real problem was brought up for
discussion,.......well, that remained to be seen. Before he could respond, the small
timer 'dinged' signaling that their time was up.

"Wow, that hour went fast. Damn, Doc, you must be good. I feel better already."

Alex stood and smiled. He didn't offer to shake his patients hand, he figured when
Spike was comfortable enough for that, he would initiate it.

"The hour does go quickly. If this time works for you, I will make an appointment for
you for the same time next Tuesday."

Spike nodded agreeably. He walked slowly toward the office door then stopped
and turned.

"Say, Alex, I'm new here in Florida and I haven't eaten dinner yet. Would it be totally
out of the question for you and I to go grab a sandwich together? No therapy. No
discussion of business, just a quick bite to eat. Or is your lovely wife expecting
you home?"

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