A/N: Hiiiii! Yeah, so I'm not out of the woods yet, but apparently I have at least another week (maybe two) before internet is officially shut off for meeee. So I'mma try to keep updating mah storiez for as long as I can, though don't be surprised if I suddenly appear to drop off the planet.

Thank you all so much for your support, it's really quite sweet of you. I didn't expect such a reaction, I thought people'd be more like 'WUT no updates for a month!? Screw this Hoar I'm out! Who cares about her personal biz anyway?' xDD So yeah you guys are incredible, and I love you all.

Disclaimer: Nothing owned.

Chapter 10: Don'tcha Wish Your Boyfriend Was Cute Like Mine?

Dr. Pheesh was rudely awakened from a rather nice dream in which she was happily teaching a cooperative yoga class by a loud and vicious knocking on her office door. It was very unpleasant, but it was not nearly so unpleasant as the aura of ANGER that Mello was giving off when she opened the door to find the blonde there, with Near, who might or might not look a tad sheepish. She couldn't really tell.

"We're going home." Mello announced, so decisively that Dr. Pheesh was faced with a moment of displacement in which she couldn't remember which of them was meant to be the authority figure.

"Um... you are?" Her mouth said in the midst of this moment. Mello tromped in, Near close behind him, and they seated themselves on her couch in their usual manner.

"Yes. I am certain we shall be able to work something out that shall be to the advantage of both parties." He replied. "But if we stay here any longer, the likelihood that I'll end up killing someone goes up considerably."

"By approximately thirty-five percent, in point of fact." Near added helpfully. The psychiatrist weighed her options carefully. On the one hand, she had grown to really dislike both of these boys and did not feel like cooperating with them. On the other hand, she had grown to really dislike both of these boys and would much prefer them to no longer be in her presence. Ever.

"I'm listening." She said finally, taking her seat behind her desk, and for once not reaching for her notebook. Mello smiled the sort of smile you might see on the pilot of a sadistic war plane about to drop the bombs on a defenseless third world country.

"You suck at psychiatry. We don't. You have the power to call the orphanage, and tell them it's fine for us to return now. Follow me so far?" Mello drawled. Dr. Pheesh was admittedly miffed about the 'you suck at psychiatry' thing, but when it's true it's true. Plus, she wasn't stupid. Sure she was a horrible psychiatrist and not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but she wasn't stupid stupid. Just faintly dull.

"I see. In fact, I agree." She admitted easily. "How are we going to do this?" That smile again. Dr. Pheesh could learn to really fear that smile.

"Watch and learn."

Dr. Mello lounged languidly in his chair, nibbling his chocolate and firing off questions at his third 'patient' of the day.

"So, why do you play pranks?" He said, lapping up a melted drop of chocolate before it fell to his shirt.

"Cause they're fun?" The small boy on the sofa ventured.

"Wrong answer."

"Um... cause I get bored?"

"Ooooh, so close."

"Cause... then I get attention?"

"Yep. Take up a hobby. Musical instruments are popular."

The boy brightened. "I did take a class on the ukelele once... It was kinda fun."

"Great, that works. Get out now."

The boy left, thoughts of island instruments floating through his mind.


"..." Dr. Near sat on carpet, neatly stacking a set of dominoes. A preteen girl was slouched moodily across from him. She'd given up complaining about the lack of chair five minutes ago.

"..." Fidget.


"..." Flinch.


"..." Yawn.


"..." Sweat.


"..." Panic.


"Alright! I didn't even do it! I just wanted the credit so people would think I was cool!"

"Do you think you're cool?"




"Don't lie. Especially not about foolish things that can get you sent to behavioral correction camps." Technically this statement was hypocritcal, but anyone who points that out will get beaten up by this doctor's boyfriend.


"Please leave and send in the next person now."


"That was grueling."


"And stupid."


"And I'm out of chocolate now."

Near was vaguely annoyed that he couldn't think up a suitable one word answer to this, but the annoyance dissapated when Mello took away the necessity for a response by sealing their lips together. Also, at some point, Near felt that there was tongue down his throat that had only a two percent chance of being his own. It was extremely nice.

"I have to admit... I'm impressed... and a little freaked out..." Dr. Pheesh said as she reviewed the list of children, complete with evaluations attached, that had been handed to her.

"That's nice, would you just call the orphanage already?" A tired Mello demanded. Dr. Pheesh looked at the on-edge blonde, weighed her chances, and hastily snatched up the phone. Beep boop bip biip beep be-oop beep! "Hello, Wammy's House? This is Dr. Marigold Pheesh speaking..."

Roger gave up. He just... gave up. Even someone as close to senility as him knew that it took more than a week to cure two boys of misbehavior. However the psychiatrist had been far too insistent that they return to the orphanage and eventually Roger was forced to cave...

Only to find that somehow both boys had undergone some sort of reform. Well, Near was back to normal at least, spending all his time once more in his playroom or his bedroom. Mello wasn't playing pranks anymore... or at least not dangerous/damaging ones. Roger didn't really care about a whoopie cushion here or there as long as vandalism wasn't involved.

Actually, Mello wasn't seen very much at all these days. There had been some rumors that he was hanging out in the playroom alot, but that was ridiculous since Near was often in the playroom. The one constant at Wammy's House was that Mello and Near were locked in an intense hateful rivalry, so the thought of them hanging out was simply unbelievable. And even if it wasn't...

Mello was no longer damaging property.

Roger was not going to question that. You do not look a gift horse in the mouth. Not even when strange moans come from the playroom sometimes. Especially not when Matt wanders into the nurses' office one day asking if there's any way for retinas to be safely bleached. Roger did not want to know.

Mello and Near were very aware of Roger not wanting to know, which was why they politely shut the door when they wanted to make-out and... such.

Alright, Brat Camp had some benefits.


A/N: It almost feels anticlimactic to me... but I wasn't sure how else I could really end it in one chapter. Ah well, lol at fail!Roger. Writing the individual scenes for 'Dr.s' Mello and Near was almost illegally fun. Also, I know the title of the chapter doesn't really fit but... It just suddenly came to me and I felt it was too good not to put in. So voila, funny title that does not quite match the chapter. W/e.

Hey, maybe I should write a sequel. Although I haven't the slightest idea what it would be about. They've already conquered Brat Camp. Maybe just a normal Summer Camp? Only not normal for long because it would be ravaged by the overly protective/possessive brilliance of Mello and the affectionate monotonous cold logic of Near? Oh and Matt could even come along for the ride too! 8D -Glee-

I do believe it's Poll Time. Visit my Bio to vote on whether you want a sequel or not, and please leave reviews detailing your thoughts/opinions on this final chapter of Separation. Love you all!