I've been promising a House/CM fic, so thus here it is! This one may make more sense if you read my other House/CM fics first but is not necessary. Short mentions of Corazon and Coda.

Therapy with the Doctors

SSA Dr. Spencer Reid was not easily surprised- or baffled, for that matter- with the few exceptions that had occurred at social events, but who really cared about the media, anyways? So when someone did manage to surprise him, Reid always made a mental note of it. This situation, though, didn't call for that; he would remember just as well without a note this time.

"What brings you here, Dr. Reid?"

At first, he hadn't recognized the voice, but as a cane whammed down on his table and the supposed owner of said cane cleared his throat, Reid just sighed. Motioning for the older man to sit down, he leaned back in his chair and prepared himself for whatever may happen next.

Dr. Gregory House sat down opposite of Dr. Spencer Reid, and for a few precious moments, he just waited and studied the younger man. Reid squirmed underneath the uncomfortable gaze, but soon enough House let his eyes wander elsewhere. Whatever he had been looking for, it was obvious he found it.

"You're not insane, you know," House mumbled.

Reid bit his lip. Why did he have the feeling House was going to mention that? How he had found out in the first place was beyond him, but he was House. He always found a way to know what he deemed important. Knowing that House wanted to elaborate, he threw a hand in the air. "Go on, please continue."

"I emailed you a week ago. You said flat-out that you didn't read it, that you didn't actually care what I had to say. Three years ago, you would've read it."

"What's your point?" Reid asked through gritted teeth.

House pointedly ignored him, though. "And even now you're calm and collected; you're not fidgeting, you're not nervous….You're a lot healthier than you were last time I saw you, and I think you know what I mean."

Reid bit his lip before reluctantly nodding his head. "Yeah, I know," he admitted. "The cane's gone," Reid started, "and so are a few other things."

"Like schizophrenia?" House guessed.

Reid frowned. How did he know about that? He hadn't told him, and he doubted anyone would have told House… 'It's House,' Reid sighed. 'Of course he knows.' Instead of denying it, he decided to play along. "I thought I was….becoming that, but I'm not. You of all people should understand that."

Smiling, House too leaned forward, letting his cane clatter against the glass table. Reid's hand instinctively grabbed his coffee, making sure that it didn't spill due to the sudden movement. House only smirked back. "You federal agents and your coffee; I'm shocked they don't send you all to rehab-"

"Like they did you?" Reid cut-in. House wasn't the only one who knew things that he wasn't supposed to. He remember hearing House's name in some online article, and as soon as he found out that House had been 'on a break from his work', he immediately looked into a few rehab clinics and got lucky.

"I'm impressed," House said, "and flattered. You like me so much that you use your clearance and authority to trick the less smart into getting the information you want." House then took it upon himself to reach for Reid's coffee. Knowing what he was trying to do, Reid snatched it in his hands and started blowing in the hole. "Smartass," House mumbled.

"You wouldn't like it, anyways. I don't take it black," Reid sighed. "And you're not as clever as you think you are; I had contacts keeping me posted about your…condition, but in retrospect, I suppose you did, too." House just nodded in response, and it became abundantly clear that there was something else on House's mind. "What are you here for, House? What did you drive all the way to Virginia for?"

House didn't even hesitate to reply, as if he had been waiting for the question since he had first sat down. "You."

"We've been through this before; I'm not a medical doct-"

"No, I don't want you on my team," House corrected. He more sneakily reached for the cup, and this time he succeeded. Smirking, he took a sip of it. Almost immediately he spat it out, face twisted up as if it was he most repulsive thing he'd ever had.

"I warned you," Reid sighed, and for a moment he swore he was going to smile- almost.

House pushed the coffee back toward Reid, watching as the younger man fearlessly drank it. He waited until the cup was back on the table to continue.

"Then what do you want me for, then?"

Wordlessly, House reached inside his coat pocket and produced a single envelope. He motioned for Reid to take it, and the younger man did so. "Everything you need to know is in there. I'll see you then." Without warning, House stood up and walked away.

Reid waited for House to leave before opening it, and he immediately regretted it. Sighing as he read the words, he wished that House had stayed just a minute longer. He was tempted to go, but he couldn't. He too stood up as he shook his head. He picked up the letter and shoved it in his migraine book.

And besides, he thought as he walked off, he had sworn to himself that he was done playing House's games.

Unfortunately, as he tossed the letter into the trash, he hadn't even attempted to read the line below Houses' signature.

~* Therapy *~

At 5:58pm, Spencer parked his car outside of the house. Straddling a large bag that was about as heavy as he was, he hobbled to the door and gratefully realized that someone had opened the door for him. Smiling, he watched as Aaron Hotchner took the piano bag from him. "Thanks for coming," he greeted as Spencer took off his coat. "Jack's really excited to learn how to play."

"It's no problem; I had nowhere else to be, anyways," Spencer smiled easily. His eyes immediately caught hold of the boy running around the corner, hugging his legs as he greeted him affectionately. Then, kneeling down to Jack, he asked, "Ready to play?"

"Yeah!" Jack giggled back.

"Good, because I'm ready to show you. Why don't you get set up in the living room? I want to talk to your dad for a minute…." Jack nodded vigorously before darting from the room.

"What is it?" Hotch asked.

"Why don't you head out for a couple hours? Jessica will be here in an hour, and all we're doing is practicing the keyboard. I know that you need the time off, and don't even try to argue otherwise. I can take care of Jack, I promise."

"Are you sure?" Hotch frowned, studying Reid's face.

Smiling as realistically as he could, Reid nodded. "Yeah, I'm positive."

"Thanks Reid," Hotch said. "I appreciate that." The older man shuffled on his coat and carefully bent to put his shoes back on. "I'll be back by eight-thirty, okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine Hotch," Reid reassured. "Try to have some fun, okay?"

"Are you coming, Weed?" Jack shouted from the back room.

Hotch pulled the screen door opened, smiling. "I hope Jack isn't too tone deaf," he smirked. "Thanks for this, Reid."

"Yeah, it's no problem," Reid nodded. He waved as Hotch walked out, and he immediately started walking into the living room. Smiling down as Jack, he adjusted the keyboard stand so that the infant could reach it. "Hey Jack, ready for your first lesson?"

~* Therapy *~

Spencer,

Renaissance Hotel, 4567 Main Street, Virginia. 6pm. 'Jam session'. Be there.

-House

PS- Have fun with Jack.

"Yeah, just set the piano right there," House instructed. He watched as the two delivery men moved the upright piano to the corner of the room, inwardly smiling at his own deceit. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"No problem, Dr. Reid," the taller one said. Then, with a nod from each man, they left the apartment.

House waited until the door closed to throw down the spare key he had stolen. As he walked toward the piano, his cane tapped against the floor. Flopping his cane on the side of it, he allowed his fingers to nimbly hit against the keys, caressing them as they moved back and forth in perfect melody. 'Well, at least it works,' he thought. He watched as his finger danced back and forth on the white and black keys, moving from highs and lows, from yin to yang. Seemingly satisfied at the quality of the discounted instrument, he pulled back his hands and threw a note on top of the built-in music stand. Not even glancing back, he walked away from the piano and slammed the door shut behind him.

You owe me- big time.

~* Therapy *

I'll admit it, I rushed the ending. This thing's been stored on my hard drive too long, though, and it was yearning to see the light of day. Thnx for reading!