Therapy

by Robyn Quincy

"We flipping don't."

"You flipping do."

"We don't!"

"You do!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Don't!"

"Do! Don't you argue with me, Mr. Larabee! What I say is gospel, and I say you and your whole team needs anger management therapy!"

"But, Judge-"

"No! That's the final word! You're going!"

Chris scowled and tried out his death glare on the Judge, who ignored him. With his trump card played to no avail, Chris stormed out of the office, muttering furiously, and defiantly kicked a waste-paper bin on his way through the door, sending it flying.

"So now we have to go to some stupid therapist, and it's all your bloody fault!"

"*My* fault?! How is it *my* fault?!"

"I'm the team leader! If you would've just followed my orders and hit the damn thing when I told you -"

"Now, hold on there, Mr. Larabee! The blame cannot rest entirely upon the shoulders of Mr. Tanner!"

"You! Don't you start, with your damn five-dollar words! If you hadn't been behind the barrel that duck would never have-"

"Uhhh, guys!" JD stepped in, attempting to mediate. "Come on, now, let's not fight..."

Buck put a hand on his roommate's shoulder. "JD, stay out of this, kid-"

Contrary to what Chris had insisted, tempers had been rather short around the office of late, and JD's had just reached breaking point. He turned on his roommate with a ferocious snarl, and a very good impression of Chris in a bad mood.

"Goddammit, would you stop treating me like a kid! What are you, my mother?! Lay *off*!"

Buck was taken aback. "Don't you take that tone with me, young man! I may be your friend, but I'm still a superior officer, and don't think the fact that you're my roommate is gonna stop me slapping your sorry butt with an official reprimand! Or rather, getting Chris to do it!"

The raised voices of Chris, Vin and Ezra arguing over who was to blame for their temper tantrums coming to the attention of Judge Travis, and JD and Buck arguing about nothing in particular, were joined by the sounds of yet another argument coming from the direction of Nathan and Josiah's shared desk.

"I *knew* it! *You* stole my stapler! And then you *lied* about it! And you a religious man! How do you live with yourself?!"

"It's *my* stapler, you hypocritical healer! You *borrowed* it from me six months ago!"

"I only bought this thing three weeks ago, you parsimonious preacher!"

Judge Travis, who had been stricken by a guilt attack - no doubt brought on by the defeated slouch of Chris's shoulders as he reached the elevator - stood in the doorway, observing the bickering team in silence. He had come to tell Chris that he had reconsidered, and maybe they *didn't* need therapy, but in the face of this display... He shook his head, speechless, and walked away. He would call the psychologist ASAP.

And so it was that the team that had come to be known as The Magnificent Seven trooped sullenly into the office of Dr. Benjamin Thornton, which seemed more crowded than usual due to the fact that extra chairs had been brought in to accommodate everyone.

"I don't see why I have to be here..." Chris muttered sulkily as he sat down.

The doctor, overhearing, raised an eyebrow, nodded his head slightly, and scribbled something in his notebook, underlining it several times.

Buck was horrified. He had expected the therapist to be a woman, so that he could flirt his way out of these sessions.

JD looked around enthusiastically as he took his seat. He'd always wanted to see the inside of a psychologist's office.

Vin was depressed. When word of this got around the office - which it would - they'd never live it down...

Ezra yawned and rubbed his eyes irritably. They couldn't have scheduled the session for, say, one o'clock in the afternoon. Noooo, they had to come at the ungodly hour of seven am.

Josiah and Nathan had agreed (after almost coming to blows over the stapler) to reserve judgement on the matter of therapy in general. Applied to them specifically , however, they were very much against it, although they were willing to go along with it since their teammates so clearly needed help.

Dr. Thornton watched the way his new patients seated themselves with interest. Chris, he noted, had automatically taken the middle seat (which was the most comfortable of the lot, and looked it), with Buck and Vin on either side. JD sat next to Buck, with Ezra on his other side, and Nathan and Josiah sat next to Vin. He wrote a note in his book, and looked up.

"Hello, gentlemen!" he said cheerily. "My name is Doctor Benjamin Thornton, and I'll be your therapist this morning!" His laughter at the little joke died a messy death in the face of the stares he received. He cleared his throat and went on. "You can call me Ben if you like, but I really must object to being called Benjy."

Chris spoke up from his slumped position, calculated to convey maximum contempt for the proceedings. "You look like you're barely old enough to be out of high school, doc."

Benjy cleared his throat. "As a matter of fact, I received my degree three months ago, and have built up a substantial practice in that time. I'm *very* good at what I do."

"I can't believe the Judge thinks having a twelve year old talk to us can do us any good," Vin complained morosely.

Thornton was an unassailable fountain of patience. "I assure you, I'm perfectly competent. I came first in my class." Suddenly the doc noticed that he was trying very hard to impress these men, and was failing miserably. He wondered why, and made a mental note to discuss it with his own therapist. He shook his head slightly, returning his attention to the problem at hand. "If we may continue?"

There was a snore from the seat next to JD. Ezra had fallen asleep.

Thornton sighed. He had a feeling that this was going to be a long hour.

He was right. Finally, however, the hour was up. As the seven reached the door, eager for freedom, he stopped them.

"One more thing."

The team turned as one and watched Thornton expectantly.

"I want you all to have a theme song ready for your next session. Which is, I think, tomorrow."

There was a pause, then: "...What?"

Thornton smiled sweetly. "A theme song. Not really a theme song, but a song that calms you down, right? Like if you were angry, and you heard this song, you'd calm down. One for each of you. Choose your own. And you'll be expected to sing a piece of it."

The seven men gaped at him in horror, so shocked that they allowed themselves to be ushered out without a fuss.

Thornton smiled to himself. He'd never made a patient sing before, but the bastards deserved it for giving him such a hard time. He was really looking forward to the next day...

Team Seven sat clustered around a too-small table at the local McDonalds - too small because of the huge amounts of food that Vin and JD had ordered.

"I can't believe the Judge thinks we need anger management therapy!" JD looked around at his friends with an earnest expression on his face.

Chris shrugged. "He's obviously been working too hard. We never fight!"

The others nodded agreement, and returned to their food.

Buck irritably pushed a side order of fries away from his burger. "Keep your food to yourself, kid!"

"I am! Those are *your* fries!"

"Nuh-uh! I've eaten mine."

"Actually, I think you ate mine."

"Oh, sorry, Josiah. Here, have these."

JD shook his head, miffed. "Make sure of your facts next time, Buck."

"Oh, come on, you can't blame me! You ordered three burgers as an appetizer!"

"Now, hold up there, pard," Vin drawled around a mouthful of quarter-pounder with cheese. "He's a growing boy."

JD scowled at the defense offered by Vin. "I'm *not* a growing boy!"

Everyone ignored him.

"Don't you start with me, Mr. Fries with fries on top with extra fries, and a side of fries, heavy on the fries!" Buck was saying. "And let's not forget, 'Oh, can I have some fries with that?' You're just as bad as he is! Cluttering up the table so normal people can't fit their food on it!"

Chris stepped in to attempt to referee, but was blindsided by a splodge of Mayo, thrown by Vin and intended for Buck. He turned on his friend with a gleam of fury in his eyes.

"That's my favourite jacket, you clumsy asshole!"

Ezra was staring, aghast, at a drop of Mayo that had hit him on the collar.

"That's a three hundred dollar shirt you just ruined, Mr. Tanner. I hope you're willing to pay for it."

Vin took time out from yelling insults at his boss to sneer, "Oh, who spends that much on a shirt anyway!"

Ezra took offense at this remark. "At least I don't dress like a, like a... a churlish, ill-mannered boor of a cowboy! You're a disgrace to the badge!"

This started yet another yelling match.

Josiah took advantage of the chaos to steal a french fry from Nathan, who was unfortunately not as engrossed in the fight as he seemed.

"Thief!"

"Selfish cad!"

"Swindler!"

"Reprobate!"

The next morning, the Magnificently Angry Seven were just as upset at having to go to therapy as before. Thornton noted quietly that they sat in exactly the same seats as they had the previous day.

The first thing he said to them was, "You are aware that Mr. Larabee is sitting in by far the most comfortable chair of the lot?"

The others looked over at Chris and shrugged. "Yeah? So? He gets the comfiest chair at the office, too. Why?"

Thornton blinked. "Nothing... Did you all find a song that calms you?"

Everyone nodded reluctantly. Thornton smiled. "Good. Do we have any volunteers to go first?"

An expression of dismay crossed JD's face. "You mean we have to tell you... in front of everyone?"

Thornton nodded, frowning slightly. "That was the idea. Would you like to go first?"

"No!" JD sounded panicky. "Hell, no!"

"Come on, now, JD, no-one's going to laugh at you."

"Speak for yourself," said Buck, grinning.

"I'll do it."

Thornton looked at Ezra in surprise. He had read the man's file, and this wasn't like him... "All right, Ezra, go ahead."

Ezra cleared his throat. "It's by Sting. 'Shape of My Heart.'"

The doc raised an eyebrow. "Yes? Sing some?"

"Er..." Ezra looked around, sighed, and took a deep breath. "I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier, I know that the clubs are weapons of war. I know that diamonds mean money for this art, but that's not the shape of my heart," he sang.

"Damn, Ez, that's a mighty purdy voice you have there!" Vin chuckled.

Ezra glowered at him. "Why don't you go next, then?"

Vin swallowed. "Uh, um...."

"Yeah, Vin. Your turn." Chris's tone left no room for argument.

Vin licked his lips, then, steeling himself, he said, "I shot the sheriff."

Chris blinked. "That's as may be, but I don't see what it has to do with anything. And I'm sure you had your reasons," he added as an afterthought.

"No, uh, the song? You know, by Bob Marley? 'I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy...'"

Thornton was scribbling away on his pad. "Josiah, how about you?"

Josiah went bright red. "Uh, uh, Buck can go first."

Buck shrugged. "Love to." He promptly burst into song, causing the others to wince and put their hands over their ears. "The Love Shack is a little old place where we can get together - Love shack baby!"

"Thank you, Buck, that's fine," Thornton said hurriedly. "Go on, Josiah. Don't be shy."

Josiah, mortified, attempted to leap from his seat and run away. Nathan caught him and pulled him back down, saying, "You can't be worse than Buck, man."

The big man sighed. "All right, ahem. 'The only man who could ever teach me was the son of a preacher man...'" he sang, and not too badly at that. "Um. It's 'Son of a Preacher Man,' by Dusty Springfield..." He went red again, and hunched over in his chair in an attempt to escape the stares of his colleagues.

Thornton broke the silence. "Chris?"

Chris glanced around for an escape route, but he was trapped. "Desperado," he said. "Don Henley." In response to the blank stares he received, he added, "The Eagles?"

Nods of understanding made the rounds.

"Well? Sing some!" Vin met his employer's gaze steadily, until he gave in.

"Desperado, why don't you come to your senses, you've been out riding fences for so long now..."

Even if Chris's voice had been awful, nobody would have dared to laugh. But since he sang surprisingly well, that was all right.

"I know that song!" Nathan exclaimed. "It's a good song."

Chris nodded. "It was either that or 'Paint It Black', by the Rolling Stones. That one's not as theme-songish, though."

"Who's next? I believe it's only Nathan and JD that haven't gone yet?"

JD swallowed. He remembered this feeling very well from his school days - it was the same feeling he got when he hadn't prepared for something and he just *knew* the teacher was going to call on him next.

"Nathan, why don't you go first."

JD slumped back in relief and glanced surreptitiously at his watch, hoping their hour was almost up. He was thrown into the depths of despair, however, when he realized that they were only ten minutes into the session.

"Uh, I chose 'Like a Surgeon' by Weird Al, Ben."

Buck raised an eyebrow. "What is this, a game show? Oh well, sing it already."

Nathan gave him a dirty look, but sang, "I came last in my class, barely passed at the institute. Now I'm trying to avoid, yeah I'm trying to avoid a malpractice suit. Like a surgeon, cuttin' for the very first time..." His voice trailed off, and he tilted his head slightly. "It's quite a funny song. JD, your turn!"

Nathan was relieved when the attention switched expectantly from him to JD.

JD blushed. "Do I really have to tell *everyone*?" he asked desperately.

Benjy nodded.

JD put his hands over his face and mumbled something.

"What was that? Speak up!"

JD mumbled louder.

"Still can't hear you, kid."

JD lowered his hands. "It's from the Lion King."

"Which song?"

"Um, the one that goes, 'I just can't wait to be king'."

"Well, if that isn't the sweetest thing I ever did hear," Buck said, grinning hugely.

"Shut up, Buck. I think it's a good theme song."

JD cast Chris a grateful look just before Thornton took over the proceedings once again.

"Now, I want you all to tell me about your relationships with each other."

Seven faces showed astonishment.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Now just one minute, mister -"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, how you get along. That kind of thing."

The seven looked at each other for a few seconds, and then chorused, "No way!"

They spent the rest of the session arguing over the fact that it was completely against their natural instincts to talk about "feelings and such".

Finally, Thornton was forced to give up for the day and dismiss them.

"Remember, guys," he called as they walked out. "If you get mad, just think of your theme song and count to ten!"

Part 2

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