Boy, Interrupted: New Client
by littlewiccan
William Pratt sat in the waiting room of his new therapist’s offices. He sat slouched in a plush pink chair with his legs resting on top of the newly polished coffee table. He sighed and leaned back in his chair as the door opened and out walked his new therapist. She was quite attractive; he had to admit even though she did seem to be a bit of a tight ass. She was a petite blonde woman with piercing green eyes shadowed slightly by her glasses. She had her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun and her exacting demeanor was completed by her tan pencil skirt and tweed yellow high heels. The only item that contradicted William’s earlier assessment was her shirt; she was wearing a gauzy white button down blouse with enough of the buttons undone that you could get a peek at her black bra if you were looking at just the right angle.
His eyes widened a little, appreciating the view before he leaned back too far and his chair tipped over. William could see her frowning from his newly horizontal position. Her eyes reflected her innate disapproval of her new client.
Buffy let a small sigh escape her mouth as she watched her new client pick himself up of the floor. He looked just like the picture she had seen of him on the front of this month’s People magazine, which proclaimed him one of the hottest rock stars in Hollywood. He was even wearing his signature black motorcycle and leather jacket. He completed his look with a white tight fitting t-shirt and dark jeans.
“Follow me please,” Buffy said. She looked over her shoulder as she walked down the hallway and her high heels clicked against the stone floor, “You certainly can make an entrance.”
“What can I say?” he replied, a smirk playing across his lips as he entered the room and sat down in a chair, putting hid feet up in the new table.
He watched as she pursed her lips and walked over to him, “Do you mind?” she asked, pulling the notepad that was under his feet out from under them and pushing his feet off the table.
“Love, are you always this uptight?”
“I’m not uptight.”
“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”
Buffy frowned from where she was sitting across from him, her legs crossed, “We’ve just met, you know nothing about me.”
“You’re not too hard to figure out pet.”
“You really think you’ve got me all figured out don’t you?”
“Abso-fucking-lutly.”
“Please enlighten me,” she replied, removing her glasses and placing them on the small table beside her.
“Let’s just put it this way love, you a little bit too tightly wound, probably because you’re in desperate need of a good shag.”
‘And you’re a cocky self centered asshole,’ Buffy thought, she wanted to say that. It would be so easy to let the words just slip from her mouth but instead she settled for a withering glance, “Thank you for that insight,” she said, putting her glasses back on and looking down at her paper, “Now tell me Mr. Pratt, what can I do for you?”
He laughed, “Just say what you want to say love, I can tell you’re just itching to tell me off.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh really?”
“Mr. Pratt—“
“Spike, the name’s Spike.”
She sighed, “Spike, you may have an infinite amount of time but I do not, so if you’re not going to try to get through this appointment I suggest you leave and stop wasting my time….You obviously came here for a reason—“
“I didn’t come here, I was sent here….by my agent. She says I have deeply seeded issues or something.”
“You she could also be upset about you being arrested for being in possession of illegal substances,” Buffy stated, bluntly before throwing the newspaper on the table; on the cover was a picture of Spike’s mug shot and the headline read, ‘Pratt on Drugs, Has the Rock Star Gone Too far?’.
“You’re point,” he asked, grabbing a cigarette and placing it in his mouth. He pulled out a silver lighter and flicked it up open, bringing the flame close to the tip of the cigarette and igniting it.
Buffy threw her clipboard down on the table and grabbed the cigarette out of his mouth throwing it out the open window.
“Bloody hell woman, what’s your problem?”
“You. Come on,” she said grabbing him by one of his jacket flaps and dragging him into the bathroom. They stopped in front of the toilet, “Any drugs, we’re getting rid of them now.”
“Excuse me but last I checked you weren’t my parole officer.”
“And last I checked I wasn’t your babysitter but some how we’ve acquired this relationship.”
“Screw this,” Spike said, moving to leave.
“If you leave there is no way I’m going to write you a good report and there is no way you’re agent is gonna let you off the hook. You need to do this remember for your image and so your band doesn’t abandon you.”
“Fine,” Spike said dumping the contents of his pockets into the toilet, “that’s everything.”
“Thank you,” Buffy whispered as she watched him flush the toilet and its contents went swirling away.
“Sure thing love but when I start going through withdrawal at 1 in the morning, guess who I’m calling.”
“Miss. Summers,” her secretary called, peeking into the bathroom, “Other appointments are waiting.”
“But I still have 20….” She trailed off as she looked down at her watch and realized that she was 20 minutes late, “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Buffy watched as the secretary nodded and left. She looked up at Spike, who was looking down at her watch, “You better not charge me for the extra 20 minutes.”
She rolled her eyes and smiled as they left the bathroom and entered the room they had been earlier.
Spike walked towards the door but stopped before he left. He turned and looked at her, “I guess I’ll see you next week?”
“Abso-fucking-lutly,” Buffy said, a smile playing across her lips.
Spike let out a small laughed as he left the room; this was going to be interesting he thought.
Buffy walked over to the window as she heard the door slam shut. She leaned against the ledge and watched as he walked out the building and towards his car.
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Read and review please so I can no if this is actually a good idea or a complete waste of time.
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