A/N: Ironically, I wrote this story about two months ago, when I was missing the good old days when Randy had an anger problem. Seeing as he's gone back to his old ways - albeit kayfabe - I've decided now is the perfect time to debut this.
Lily Matthews looked up from the legal pad on her desk, blinking at the person in her doorway over her glasses. "Yes, Tyler?"
Tyler Wilson was notorious for lusting after most of the women in the office, but Lily was his number one hunt. He never left her alone. "Uh, I was just wondering when you're taking a break."
"I already took it."
"Yep." She sliced her pen through something on the notebook. "Had a cigarette outside. Sorry."
"Oh. That's... that's okay. I just... I wanted to see if – "
"Tyler, get back to the front desk." Steven Cole pushed past the young intern, glaring at him when he didn't leave the doorway. "Tyler."
The boy looked up, dreamy gaze fading.
"Get back to the desk. There are people waiting."
"Oh." Tyler stumbled back, catching himself on the door frame. "Okay. Yes, sir."
Steven turned back to Lily's amused face, rolling his eyes. "You need to let that boy down, and fast."
"I've tried, he doesn't listen to me."
"You're a therapist; don't you manipulate people for a living?"
"Yeah, but he doesn't pay me." Lily winked, catching sight of the file in his hand. "New client?"
"Yours, actually. Kind of fucked up, so be prepared."
"Aren't they all?" Lily took the lumpy folder, flipping open to the first page. Her heart started pumping when she caught sight of this nutjob – he looked anything but crazy. Such a smile, such a glint in his eye... "What's he do?"
"He's a wrestler."
"I'm not surprised," she murmured, flipping pages. "They're all crazy."
"This guy takes the cake. Has an anger problem, apparently." Steven bent over the desk, his tie brushing the file, and started crinkling the notes, pointing at certain spots. "Work's making him come in here, or they fire him."
"Threats usually work."
"That doesn't sound promising." Steven pulled back another stapled packet. "Here's him with his father. Guess he was a wrestler, too."
Lily ran her finger down the handsome boy's face, perusing his dad. "I know him. I mean, I've seen him before."
"Hall of Famer, I guess. Doesn't matter. Look at this."
Lily turned to the next page, frowning when she saw him with his arm around some brunette. "That his wife?"
"They have a daughter."
Lily nodded, closing the file. "All right."
Steven tapped the top. "He's out in the waiting room filling out some paperwork. I suggest you don't make him wait."
"Think he'll pull one of his moves on me?"
"Not the wrestling kind. He's bit of a player, too. Says it somewhere in there. Guess he had some marriage problems because of it."
Lily bit her lip. That sounded promising. "Okay. Send him in."
"Sounds good." Steven stopped in the doorway. "But, Lily?"
She looked up.
An hour and a half. An hour and a half had already gone by, and he still didn't say anything. He just sat there with his arms crossed, staring at his thighs. Thighs that could perplex even the smartest person.
How were they that big?
Lily cleared her throat. "Um, Mr. Orton?"
He didn't look up.
"Mr. Orton, I'm not the bad guy."
She sighed and picked up her pen, tapping it against the desk. "Listen. I'll cut you a deal. If you start talking, I promise to not pull the concerned therapist act."
His head was still bent, but his eyes averted away from his legs, to the bookshelf parallel to his seat.
"Mr. Orton – "
"Will you stop tapping your pen?" he gritted, eyes on the books.
Lily could see his fists clenching underneath his arms. "Are you angry right now, Mr. Orton?"
He finally looked at her, that blue-eyed gaze illuminated from the window behind her desk. "Am I angry?"
"No. I'm not angry."
"Are you sure?"
He stared at her, emotionless, and ran his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip.
Lily reached for her coffee mug. "Are you thirsty?"
He snorted and sat back, laying his hands on the arm rests.
"I take that as a no."
He rolled his eyes and looked away.
She put her cup down. "Mr. Orton – Randy. May I call you Randy?"
"What's stopping you?"
He ground his teeth. "Yes."
"Okay. Randy. Why are you here today?"
"I don't know."
"Sure, you do."
"You calling me a liar?"
Lily shook her head. "Absolutely not. I'm just - "
"You're what? What are you doing?" He leaned forward, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. "You know everything about me. Everything. I don't have to tell you shit."
"If I knew everything about you, I'd be able to help you. But I don't, so I can't. Will you help me help you, Randy?"
"Jesus Christ." He almost laughed. Almost. "Where do you get this stuff? Is there a book that tells you all the cheesy therapist lines?"
"Yes. It's called college."
He stared at her blankly.
She sighed. "Okay, Randy. I'm tearing the wall down. All right?"
"Look. You're here because your job's making you. I'm here because I thought therapists make a lot of money. For future reference, just in case you're thinking about going into the profession, they don't."
Not even a smile.
"So, let's just do this. Let's talk, I'll write some things down, you'll go back to work and I'll get paid. Does that sound okay to you?"
Lily fiddled with her pen to keep calm. "Why not?"
Randy sighed, slumping slightly. His wall was coming down, too. Lily could see it.
Puts up a front, she wrote discreetly.
She looked up, meeting his gaze. "What's the matter, Randy?"
He glanced away.
"Randy – "
"I have an anger problem." He bent forward and laced his fingers between his knees, keeping his head down. "And I need help."
Lily nodded. "That's good, Randy. First step is – "
"Identifying the problem, I know. You're not the first shrink I've visited."
"I'm not a shrink, Randy. Do you think you're crazy?"
"That's good. I'm here to help you, not judge you. Please understand that."
"I do." He sighed again, putting his hands to his mouth. "That's not the problem, though."
"The anger thing."
Lily frowned. "What is it, then?"
He didn't answer, just slowly slid his fingers up, covering his eyes. Lily watched the silver wedding band glimmer in the light.
"Take your time, Randy."
Another fifteen minutes passed, and Randy just sat there, slowly unwinding. Finally, he showed his face, his eyes red. He wasn't crying, though.
Lily smiled sympathetically. "Ready?"
Randy nodded. "Yeah."
Lily waited, pen over her papers.
"I um..." Randy swallowed hard.
"It's okay, Randy."
He looked at her. "I murdered my wife."
A/N: Heh heh heh. I hope you enjoyed it. Review.