there's hardly even a gun and i'm jumping it. leaping, even.

[therapeutics]

You're serious right now?

The preview isn't even officially out and you're already on top of that, thinking you can pull this off because I have two lines - nine words - that fit the bill of what you thought.

Oh, right, and you think you're some kind of master at the "original series" and think I can't be that different, even if "I'm not Grayson Hall."

I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I'm a professional. A doctor. You think you hear voices? That's not good. You think I'm one of them? That's - a new one.

So you're actually doing this.

You can at least get me some coffee. Black. I'm too hungover for this.

Comments

[therapeutics]

Right.

[more staring. pulling her own tricks over on her: nice. but, basically, all julia's getting from her is that she is a psychiatrist's dream.

too bad she's still too hungover for this.]

Well. If your parents - your dad, right? - ever think you need to talk to a professional about that, I'm game.

[blueberried]

Dad doesn't want me to speak to anyone about it, and I think mother stopped caring. [She looks a bit... hurt. She hoped for a while that the incident changed her parents, but apparently it just phased them for a while before they slipped back into old habits.]

I'm dealing with it, though, so I don't need your help. [Yeah, except she can't go near blueberries, chewing gum or little people anymore; apparently they don't count though.]

[therapeutics]

Alright, alright. [she notices the expression, but just holds her hands up in surrender. she gets the point.] Just thought I'd offer.

[blueberried]

Well, thanks anyway... I think. [And now you may have given her a reason to stay clear of psychiatrists. Thank you for that.]