bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
bmblbee
bmblbee
bloodclaim

Therapy

Title: THERAPY
9/17
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

After another 20 minutes, Alex finally emerged from his fortress of solitude. Sitting on
the closed toilet lid had given him time to clear the alcohol from his brain and remove
himself both physically and mentally from whatever had scared him. When he tried to
put a label on it, the only word that came to mind was 'irrationality'.

And now he felt foolish.
As he moved back through the restaurant, he was relived to see that the other customers
had apparently forgotten all about him and were again engaged in their own lives and
concerns. It was a good thing because right now, Alex's negativity cup runith over
and there just wasn't enough room in there for embarrassment too.

When he reached the table, he was surprised to see that Spike had not only paid the
check but he had had their dinners boxed up for carry out and he was waiting patiently
for the good doctor's return.

"Spike.......look, I'm sorry about all this. I don't know what....."

"Tut, tut, Alex. No need for apologizes. It was my fault completely. You told me you
didn't want any alcohol and I pushed it on you anyway. I'm the one who should be sorry."

Alex was grateful for the out and allowed himself to be steered through the restaurant
and out in to the cool, refreshing night air.

The short taxi ride through the dark streets was made in near silence. The residual
effects of the alcohol had Alex's stomach churning and his head foggy and confused.
He tried several times to think, but eventually gave up and slumped, resting his head
on the cool glass of the side window.

When they arrived, Spike paid the driver and helped his dinner companion stabilize
on shaky legs. With still no conversation, they made their way up the elevator to the
top floor where Alex fumbled with the key till the door finally swung open.

Spike handed over one of the dinners and smiled.

"I suppose I should just go and let you rest."

Alex swayed. He was desperately tired but feared the dreams if he were left alone.
Besides, Spike had been so nice about everything it would really seem rude to snatch
the food and slam the door in his face.

"No, please. At least we could finish our dinners. It would probably help to get some
food in my stomach."

"You sure you don't mind?"

"No, really, I'd like for you to stay. Please, come in Spike."

As if a magic portal had just opened up, Spike grinned broadly and he stepped over
the threshold. He then snatched Alex's dinner back and he ordered the therapist to
have a seat as he hurried off to find the kitchen. When he returned, he had a small
towel thrown over one forearm, waiter style and both their meals arranged elegantly
on their plates. Alex was delighted. No one had ever treated him so nicely.

As their dinner progressed, Spike could feel the air of tension dissipate completely
from the room and he casually started to talk.

"Lovely place, this. You lived here long?"

Alex dabbed his mouth with his napkin and took a drink of water.

"Oh, about eight years. It really was an amazing opportunity. I was just finishing my
internship and hadn't even opened a practice yet when my instructor, Doctor Elliott
called and told me about this place. He said it was rent controlled and a real steal.
Of course I rushed right over. Turns out it is almost the same monthly that I was paying
for a two room loft on the east side. Fucking incredible. Odd manager though. I've
never actually seen him. I just drop a check each month into a mail slot on the lobby wall.
I guess he is an anitsocial personality type."

Spike quietly snorted and again laid down his fork. He would let a discussion of the
building ownership pass. There were other things that interested him more.

"Are you happy, Alex? I mean, is it an automatic given that a man who teaches other
people how to have happy lives, is always happy himself?"

Alex pushed aside his plate. The food had gone a long way toward absorbing the
alcohol in his system and he was thinking more clearly now.

"I suppose I'm happy enough. How about you, Spike? I'm not your therapist anymore,
so just man to man, tell me about yourself. You seem so different now that I wonder,
was the story you told me the truth or are you all about something else? I'm usually a
very good judge of character, but I can't figure you out. Why did you come to me Spike?
What is your truth?"

Spike calmly drained another bottle of beer as he collected his thoughts. When he set it
down, he leaned forward and he stared, blue eyes to brown.

"The story I told you was true but maybe the lie in it was a lie of omission. I led you to
believe that that was the worst thing I have ever done and it isn't. I have done horrible
things. Things you can't even imagine. Dark things. Deadly things. Why did I come
to you? I came for the same reason all your patients come to you. I came for help. I
came because you are the only one who can help me."

His face, as he spoke, was beautiful. The sharp lines and smooth curves moved and
shifted as his lips parted and his eyes blinked with the expression of his words. His hands
were clasped on the table top and Alex glanced at the slim fingers as a sudden urge to
feel that cold skin again washed through him.

The words "I came to you for help" passed through his ears but all Alex could focus on
was their conversation earlier that night. Did he believe that there was someone for
everyone. How is it possible to feel so familiar with a total stranger? How will he know
when it's time for his plane to stop flying and come in for a landing?

"Xander? Alex? Hey, you still in there?"

Alex shook himself out of his trance and found an amused Spike waving his hand in front
of the therapists face.

"Tell you what, I think I have had about all the deep, insightful conversation I can handle
for one night. How about a bit of light chit chat to get to know each other on a more
superficial level?"

Alex laughed and his whole body relaxed.

"Sounds good. One for one. I'll ask you something then you ask me. Deal?"

Spike tried to look seriously thoughtful as he crossed his arms.

"Deal. First question. You said you aren't from Florida. Where were you born?"

"A small town in California. Sunnydale. My turn. Why do you call me Xander?"
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