Shadow Play

summary: Where a therapist meets his biggest challenge yet, a girl who simply describes herself as a nymphomaniac. He feels a growing attachment to this girl and has this need to 'protect' her, and he's getting more and more pleased with the games she plays, soon wanting to play back. [massington and others, au]

a/n: hey, guys! this is my first multi chap and i'm happy to be doing it in the clique fandom. anyway, this is probably borderline m in some scenes but i won't change the rating unless i see that it's constantly 'm', but i will give warnings. i'm actually really excited for this, which hopefully means i'll be consistent in updating haha. happy reading c:

disclaimer: if it's familiar, it's not mine


prologue

derrick;;

Derrick Harrington sits down at his desk, flipping through a stack of papers. His phone alarm beeps, signaling his next appointment. Clicking the phone to turn it off, he quickly runs his hands through his disheveled hair and pops in a stick of bubblegum. He returns from retrieving the patient—a thirteen year old blonde suffering from depression—from the waiting room merely two minutes later and sits down in his leather chair.

"So, how are you?"

She fiddles with a bracelet on her left arm and looks at her shoes to avoid eye contact. "I don't know," she squeaks out.

"How's school?" he tries.

"Um…fine." The teen shrugs demurely.

It goes on like that for the rest of their session, with her weak answers and lack of eye contact. He gets a cutter in the hour after (who's apparently in a violent mood), followed by an anorexic, before his day is complete.

Derrick plops down on his desk immediately after walking his last appointment out. It hasn't been a tiring day—it's been a breeze, in fact—but he still feels the need to relax.

"Mr. Harrington?" a voice calls out after three sharp knocks.

"Yes, come in," he mumbles, lifting his head from its sleeping position.

His assistant (and best friend), Cameron Fisher, walks in, clutching a stack of papers. "We need to talk."

Resisting an eye roll, Derrick gets up and moves the conversation to the couch. Staring into his friend's eyes—one green, one blue—he urges him to continue.

"Boss needs to talk to you, not me."

Well, he could've said that in the beginning before I wasted my energy, the lazy person in Derrick thinks.

With a sigh, he gets up and holds the door open for Cam. Following closely behind, he tries not to think about the possible scenarios; instead, he takes the advice he so often gives to his patients concerning anxiety disorders—try to rule out the bad with what is already good, to find that gray area between the black and white.

Derrick Harrington is that rare mix of super-smart-yet-knows-how-to-have-the-time-of-his-life. His countless certificates that he was forced to hang on the walls of his office are all earned fairly; his full training is almost complete with just one year left at school at 22 (impressive for his required route); extremely well-rounded and talented; and he is hot. He is in his ideal state, in his utopia.

Confidently, he strolls into the conference room, wearing his typical self-assured look, and makes eye contact with his boss as he sits. Technically, the boss of this whole foundation is his uncle, James Harrington, but all the relationships there are kept strictly professional. (The fact that he is his uncle acts as a cushion for Derrick to fall back on at any given moment, but he hasn't reached that point yet and doesn't plan to.)

"Yes, sir?" Derrick cuts to the chase.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Harrington. As you are aware, you've been summoned to discuss your patients."

"Sorry to interrupt, but I actually didn't know that we were to be discussing that." He glances around the empty room—it feels colder with just the two of them.

"Forgive us; we're all a bit stressed. Anyway, I think your monthly is ready to be boosted to twice every six months, yes?"

"Sally? (He goes through his mental files for the full report.) Oh, sure, she seems about ready to handle it. Anything else?"

"Great that brings room and you're still able to have some relaxation—God knows you'll need it."

Obviously confused at the situation, Derrick asks, "Care to tell me what's going on now?"

James reaches across to give Derrick a quick pat on the back. "Your work is very good, Mr. Harrington—you're doing a much better job than some of the careers. You know all of this, right?"

He bobs his head up and down slowly, knowing all too well that he isn't in trouble but that a favor is about to pop out of his boss' mouth. He mentally prepares himself for whatever it will be.

"I have a very important question to ask you, Mr. Harrington; what are you willing to do for the company?"

"Just about anything," Derrick offers weakly.

"I thought so, and you surely haven't let us down in the past. But, we have a new challenge for you."

"I'll do it," he accepts, a little too quickly. Derrick's just one who likes to be pushed to the best of the abilities, lives for people daring him to take on something.

"Be warned, Mr. Harrington, that this is not easy at all. We had several meetings to see how this will go and debated who would accept this. My point is, you may not be able to succeed."

Oh, he's good. There was no way that Derrick would decline now, and they both knew it. The twenty two year old almost shakes his head, picturing the smirk growing underneath James' face, trying to come out. He taps his chin. "Hmm…I'll take it."

Now, the smirk presents itself as James hands him a folder. "Open it back inside your office," he says when he begins to tear at it.

He nods in acknowledgement and gets up from his chair. He's halfway out the door when his boss calls him back.

"Yes?" He turns around.

"Thanks for playing, Derrick."

He doesn't wait to open the file once he's out of the conference room—James' attitude didn't allow him to. There was something odd about it from the beginning, but referring to him as Derrick rose his suspicions. He leans against a wall and investigates.

Name: Massie Elizabeth Block

Age: 16; born July 25th

Schooling: She attended Octavian Country Day, an all-girls Elementary/Middle School. She currently attends BOCD (Briarwood-Octavian Country Day), which is Westchester's most elite private school, and it is co-ed.

History/Experience with Treatment: The patient has been with many buildings and therapists, and her parents even tried to get her admitted into a mental ward but her conditions did not seem the right fit for the closest institution. She's prescribed pills but has noted that she never takes them, and no treatment has worked out for her yet. (See page 5 for more details.)

Diagnosis: Hyper sexuality/Nymphomania; signs of either Bipolar disorder or Anger Issues; small stages of ADHD

Misfits with the Law: None that have been caught. (Refer to Pages 10-12 of some events revealed to past psychiatrists)

He closes the file shut, not wanting to read it any further. He knows that he has his work cut out for him, and he's only made it to the basic info page. He's dealing with a fucking sex maniac here (thank god he avoided looking at the profile picture for now); things aren't going to be going his guaranteed way.

He clutches the manila folder against his chest before slamming it into his face. There's only one thing for certain—

Derrick Harrington's world was about to get rocked. Big time.


a/n: um, so it's a little short, but this was only the prologue. Next chapter, we meet massie and derrick goes clubbing with cam.

please leave a review on your way out c: thanks for clicking; hopefully I get a new chapter up by next week?

xoxo, abi