Therapy: Three Witches and a Shrink

Dr. Shreever was shuffling through some papers when Darcy walked into his office. As she sauntered over to his desk he gathered them up, tapped them neatly together on his desk and put them away in a drawer. Darcy noticed that this left his desk completely devoid of paperwork, though his various knick-knacks were still in place. She gave him a lop-sided grin.

"Getting a little paranoid about your paperwork, huh?"

Dr. Shreever grinned back at her ruefully.

"Forgive me, but I've had to retreive documents from you girls twice now already. Since it seems I can not trust you girls to respect the privacy of my records I am simply going to have to keep them put away whenever I see the three of you."

Darcy raised an eyebrow as she sat down in the padded leather armchair opposite him.

"Twice? Don't tell me you left your papers out when you saw Stormy yesterday."

Dr. Shreever shook his head.

"No. Thankfully I did have the presence of mind to clear my desk prior to her session. No, it was Icy who pried into my records almost an hour ago. Ironicly enough, the records she seemed interested in were yours."

Darcy leaned forward with interest.

"Mine? Really? So just what information did she get on me?"

Dr. Shreever steepled his fingers as he watched her reactions with a carefully nuetral expression.

"Oh, not much. Just your name, Miss Andromeda."

Darcy sat up with a start then leaned forward again, pointing an accusatory finger at Dr. Shreever.

"You let Icy find out what my middle name is?!?"

Dr. Shreever rested his hands on the desk and frowned.

"I didn't let her. She snatched the documents from my hands and read your name before I could stop her."

Darcy gripped the arms of the armchair and scowled.

"So what? You're telling me you couldn't cast a simple Obscurus spell to prevent her from reading it?"

Dr. Shreever blinked in surprise at such a simple magical solution, then slapped his palm against his forehead for having missed it.

"Of course! I should have thought of that! Ever since I abandoned witchcraft to study psychology I've gotten used to seeking non-magical solutions to problems. I guess I'm out of practice using my magic."

Darcy gave Dr. Shreever a condescending smirk as she lounged back in the leather armchair.

"Geez. Sounds like they've turned you into just another NuMBer."

Dr. Shreever blinked at her in confusion.

"A number? What do you mean?"

Darcy held up three fingers and ticked one off with each letter.

"N.M.B. A Non-Magical Being."

Dr. Shreevers eyes lit up with understanding.

"Ah, I see! A NuMBer! Interesting. You've taken the standard designation for Non-Magical Beings and turned it into a derogatory appelation. How very clever. I hadn't heard that one before."

Darcy shook her head and grinned.

"Doc, you really need to get out more."

Dr. Shreever grinned back self-deprecatingly.

"Yes, perhaps I do. And please, call me Thaddeus."

Darcy turned a bit to the right, pulled up her left leg and wrapped her hands around her knee.

"Well now, aren't we being informal. Do you let all of your patients call you by your first name?"

Dr. Shreever's grin turned impish.

"Only the ones I especially like."

Darcy's eyes went wide in mock surprise as she placed a hand on her chest in false modesty.

"Why my good doctor, I do believe you're flirting with me."

Dr. Shreever put on a shocked expression, though the twinkle in his eye showed he wasn't being serious.

"My dear Darcy, would I ever do something so unprofessional as all that?"

Darcy set both feet back on the floor and leaned forward to rest her elbows on his desk with a teasing smirk.

"Depends if you thought you could get away with it."

Dr. Shreever chuckled as he leaned forward to match her pose.

"Young lady, I do believe you are being a bad influence on me."

Darcy reached up with one hand to trace the curve of his lip with her fingertip.

"If you think I'm a bad influence now, just wait. Before long, I'll have you wrapped around my little finger."

Dr. Shreever captured her hand in his and placed a kiss on her knuckles.

"I'm sure it would be most pleasurable being wrapped around you, but I'm afraid we have other business to attend to. Why don't we start by talking about your parents?"

Darcy leaned back into her chair with a put-off frown.

"You sure know how to ruin a mood."

Dr. Shreever grinned and chuckled.

"What can I say? It's a gift."

Leaning forward, he clapsed his hands on the desk.

"Now then, your records indicate that you lived alone with your mother prior to attending Cloud Tower. Is that correct?"

Darcy crossed her arms and turned her head aside with a bored expression.

"Well yeah. It's not like I had a choice or anything."

Dr. Shreever nodded sagely.

"I see. And what about your father?"

Darcy looked back at Dr. Shreever.

"What about him? It's not like I've ever met the guy."

Dr. Shreever looked puzzled.

"You have no idea who he is then?"

Darcy closed her eyes and turned her head away again.

"Don't know, don't care. Not like we ever needed him. Men are only good for one thing anyway."

Dr. Shreever leaned forward with an amused smirk.

"Oh really? And just what are we good for then?"

Darcy's eyes flew open as she realized what she'd just said. She placed a fingertip on her lower lip as she grinned at him nervously.

"Eh heh. Did I say that?"

Dr. Shreever gave her a kindly smile, his eyes dancing with merryment.

"No need to be embarrassed. You are entitled to your opinion."

Darcy scowled and recrossed her arms.

"Hmph! I'm not embarrassed."

Dr. Shreever gave her a tolerant smile.

"Of course you're not. How silly of me. So tell me, was it your mother who taught you to look down on men?"

Darcy gazed back at him with the beginnings of a smile.

"It always comes down to mom and dad with you shrinks, doesn't it?"

Dr. Shreever gave a shrug and leaned back in his chair.

"'Mom and Dad' are the biggest influences on a child's mind back in the formative years when the foundations are being laid for how the child will ultimately perceive the world. This is no less true for witches than anyone else."

Darcy settled back in her chair a little bit more comfortably and grinned.

"Apparently my mom thought so too. Even back when I was little she always went out of her way to involve me in everything that she did. Said it was important to start my training at an early age."

Dr. Shreever nodded, looking quite interested.

"So your mother was intent on you following in her footsteps as a witch."

Darcy leaned forward with a smirk.

"Not just any ordinary witch. Mom is a very specific type of witch."

Dr. Shreever's eyebrows rose in curiosity.

"Really? So just what type of witch is she?"

Darcy stood up and planted her hands on the desk as she leaned forward.

"The kind of witch that requires subtlety, poise, charm and a devious mind, all wrapped up in a killer body."

She turned sideways, leaving one hand planted on the desk as she lounged against it and casually flipping her hair back over her shoulder with the other one.

"Mom is an enchantress."

Dr. Shreever arched his eyebrows and stroked his goatee thoughtfully.

"An enchantress, eh? Very interesting. I actually knew an enchantress once. Fascinating woman. Everything she did was done with sensuous grace and charged with innuendo. Much like yourself."

Darcy turned slightly away from him as she lounged against his desk and grinned back at him over her shoulder.

"What can I say? I learned from the best."

Grinning back at her, Dr. Shreever leaned forward and placed a hand on the one she had planted on his desk.

"So tell me Darcy, what exactly does an enchantress do?"

Darcy glanced down at Dr. Shreever's hand on hers, then looked back up at him with an encouraging smile.

"Why, we do what anyone else does. We use what we've got to get what we want."

Dr. Shreever stood up and leaned toward her a bit with a lascivious grin.

"Through the use of ... friendly persuasion?"

Darcy grinned back at him teasingly and leaned toward him with half-lidded eyes.

"If the other person is open to friendly persuasion, then yes. If not, well, there's always unfriendly persuasion."

Dr. Shreever traced Darcy's jawline with his finger.

"And if the other person has the advantage, leaving you at his mercy?"

Darcy brought her hand up to capture his.

"In that case, I can be very friendly."

Dr. Shreever watched as if in a trance as Darcy took his finger into her mouth and sucked on it. His breath caught in his throat as he felt her tongue twirl around the tip.

"Yes. So I see. Quite friendly indeed. And was your mother as 'friendly' when she was training you?"

Darcy locked eyes with him as she slowly withdrew his finger from between her puckered lips. She smiled mischievously once it popped free.

"Mom could be very friendly when she was pleased, but she became a strict disciplinarian when she was displeased."

Dr. Shreever watched in fascination as Darcy turned away from him and sauntered over to the leather couch, his eyes following every swing of her hips. As she laid herself out on the couch, he came around the desk and seated himself in the straight-backed chair next to it.

"So your mother believed in the carrot and stick approach to raising you. Did she ever spank you?"

Darcy rolled onto her left side and smirked at him with a teasing grin.

"Only when I was naughty, and I was a very naughty girl."

Dr. Shreever shook his head as he grinned back at her.

"I'll just bet you were. You know, I have to wonder how much of what you are telling me about your relationship with your mother is actually true and how much you are simply making up for your own amusement."

Darcy placed her hand lightly on her chest, lowered her head, and gazed at him through her lashes with a soulful, wounded expression.

"Why my dear doctor, I'm hurt that you would think that I would ever lie to you about my mother."

Dr. Shreever gave her a wry, skeptical smirk.

"My dear Darcy, I do believe that you would lie to me about anything at all in order to get what you want."

Adopting a sexy grin, Darcy rose up off the couch, sauntered over to Dr. Shreever and sat down on his lap sideways, lacing her arms around his neck.

"And what about you Thaddeus? What is it that you want?"

Dr. Shreever touched the tip of her nose with his fingertip.

"What I want is to get to know the real you."

Darcy let go with one arm and twirled her fingernail in Dr. Shreever's goatee with a playful smile.

"Now why would you want to know the real me when the fantasy me is so much more fun?"

Dr. Shreever put both hands around her waist and laced his fingers together.

"Because the fantasy you, however much fun, is only a small, shallow subset of the real you and I want the whole package. I'm looking for a real woman, not a fantasy girl."

Darcy's smile disappeared as she placed her hand on his chest and looked into his eyes.

"Trust me Doc, you don't wanna go there. I don't let anyone see the real me. Ever."

Dr. Shreever met her serious gaze with his own.

"But my dear Darcy, that is precisely why I must go there. It isn't healthy to shut everyone out that way."

Darcy stood up off Dr. Shreever's lap, folded her arms and turned her back to him.

"Mind your own business Doc. I have my reasons."

Dr. Shreever stood up behind her and gently laid his hands on her shoulders.

"Reaching out to you is my business Darcy. I can understand your reluctance to open up to me. Growing up as a witch or warlock one must constantly guard oneself against those who would hurt you or take advantage of you. It becomes second nature to keep everyone at arms length. But you see, I'm not one of those people. My job doesn't permit me the luxury of being so callous, so insensitive. My job is to be someone my patients can turn to, someone they can trust. If my patient needs a strong arm to lean on or a shoulder to cry on, then that's what I am. If she needs someone to confide in, I'm there. If she feels the need to strike out at someone, I must be strong enough to take it and gentle enough not to respond in kind."

Darcy whirled around to glare at him.

"Oh sure. Like you were so gentle with Stormy?"

Dr. Shreever winced at the stinging rebuke.

"There are limits to how much abuse even I can take before I snap back, and Stormy was pushing those limits. I assure you though, my response was measured. I allowed her to play out her tantrum until it became clear that she would only keep escalating things until she provoked a response. Once I realized she was demanding a response I responded, but only with enough force to prove that further abusive behavior on her part would no longer be tolerated. I had no intention of harming her. I only meant to throw a scare into her to make her reevaluate her actions."

Darcy kept her arms crossed, but she relaxed her stance and gave him a wry smirk.

"Well, you sure threw a scare into her alright. She was all grumpy by the time she came back to us, but we could tell she'd been pretty badly shaken up when she told us you were a warlock."

Dr. Shreever smiled and gave her a small bow.

"I do my best. However I fear we have strayed off topic. We were discussing you and your relationship with your mother."

Darcy's smirk faded into a frown of boredom. She turned and walked over to look at the fish in the fishtank.

"What's there to talk about? You've already got my records. Can't you learn enough about me from them?"

Dr. Shreever walked over to stand beside her.

"Your records can only tell me just so much about you, and there are a few surprising gaps. For example, what is your mother's maiden name?"

Darcy turned her face away from him.

"Maiden name? Ha! Like my mom was ever a maiden. She was born a slut, and she raised me to be just like her."

Dr. Shreever studied her thoughtfully as he stroked his goatee.

"I see. So then you are ashamed of her?"

Darcy's eyes went wide with astonishment.

"Aa..."

In the next moment she whipped her head around to glare at him.

"No! Of course not! Why would I be?"

Dr. Shreever returned her gaze compassionately.

"Perhaps because as an enchantress she would debase herself to any degree necessary to get what she wanted? And as you said, she raised you to be just like her. Like mother, like daughter."

A look of revelation crossed his features.

"Oh. Oh my. Then by extension that would lead me to believe that you are similarly ashamed of yourself."

The force of the slap Darcy's hand delivered to his cheek swung Dr. Shreever's head around to one side. He blinked a couple of times as he raised his hand to his cheek in startlement. When he looked back at Darcy he was astonished to see tears in her eyes as she glared at him in fury.

"How DARE you say that about me?! I am NOT ashamed of myself! I have no shame! Just who the hell do you think you are anyway?!"

Dr. Shreever lowered his hand from the angry red mark on his cheek as he regarded her calmly.

"Who do I think I am? Well as it happens I think I just might be your father, Darcy."

Darcy gave a loud gasp as she jerked back in disbelief.

"D-daddy?"