WHO: Horatio/Timothy/Brain Doctor..my bad.."Relationship counselor". Bah.
WHEN: Most recent.
WHERE: Doctor's Office. Well, in front of it. Still outside.
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Timothy would not shut up. This went on for days, his constant whining. He hated this idea. Hated it more than anything in this entire world. More than Nico, and that was a lot of
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"I'm afraid Doctor, with all due respect to you and your expertise, I do not believe that people 'can't help doing things'. Now if someone has nerve damage and, say, they end up with a tic, that is something they actually cannot control. But anything that requires fore-thought and an action to make that thought into deed, that is something that can be helped. Can be stopped. You have to load a gun and aim it before you even have the option of pulling the trigger."
Horatio tilted his head and eyed Speedle through a soft tuft of his ember bangs that hung low against his bowed brow. It was a critical stare. Usually he looked at his on-again, off-again lover with affection tempering his gaze, but at the moment he was eyeing him more like a suspect than a mate.
"So he controls it. And yes, Tim, you control me. I will not deny that. Greg, I have no idea. Probably, if he feels about you anything like I do. Ray?"
H shook his head.
"No comment. But let me say he has a more subtle way of controlling people. Not to say he doesn't ever throw a tantrum."
Horatio hesitated a moment before taking a step forward. He cocked his head, hands returning to their familiar spot on his hips.
"But what Tim? What if I said no. What if I did deny it? What would you do? Storm out of here? Hit me? Hit her? Come on Speed, you are worth a hell of a lot more as a human being than your cock or your attitude. At least to me..."
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