Love By Lambert

AN: Everyone, acknowledge that elephantsrocmysox is a precognitive god. Seriously, that was amazing :Hands out a gold medal: I thought everyone would think it was Cassandra but man, you're good. Very, very good.

Warning: There's one or two sex jokes in this. They're appropriate for a 'T' rating though, just thought I'd give everyone a heads up : )

Epilogue: The One Lambert Couldn't Fix

When Lambert saw who walked into his office, he felt his heart cease its very beating. The setting sun stilled in the air and the air became heavy. Pure, unadulterated fear leaked into him and he sighed sadly, knowing that the jig was finally over.

"Good afternoon," Came none other than Lambert's ball and chain, well, really it would be more like a cloud and um…wispy spectral thing?

"I see you've finally caught me," Lambert said in defeat, packing his potted plant into a brief case and straightening out his papers- most of which were humorous caricatures of the various wackoes that had been in his office today. "I mean, I thought I was being very clever, with the nifty anagram and the concealing corrective lenses, but no you had to track me down and suck the life right out of me, didn't you? Oh why oh why have I put up with you for decades?! You never let me have any fun ever! And it's like totally not cool anymore, you know? Because I work hard and I try my very best and I give and give but no one ever goes 'Hey man, you're a damn evil person, here's a cookie' and it's so depressing after awhile, you know? So it's like dude, give me a break-"

"Um, I hate to interrupt your impressive run on sentence," Came the lovely young lady at the entrance who had yet to sit down, "But I'm not with the IRS."

Lambert paused his rant, blinking, "Excuse me?"

The young lady sighed, "You're freaking out because you think I'm here to collect taxes or something, aren't you?"

The love doctor continued to just blink and not much else, was this some kind of game? "Um…"

She laughed, the tinkly and quite frankly too cute to be evil sound very familiar to Lambert's ears. He remembered hearing it every time something occurred that caused him physical pain. Ah, yes, he had picked himself a spiteful wench indeed.

"Let's start over, you must be Dr. Bertlamb? I'm Ursula," She said, all smiles.

Lambert felt his face twist into horror. She didn't recognize him?! He had subjected himself to an eternity of ostracism, carrying around a tacky water bottle full of funkadelic potion, and putting up with a TON of bitching. They had been roomies for centuries, had even kicked puppies together, and she didn't recognize him?!

His hand touched the frame of his lenses.

These were really good glasses!

Lambert coughed into his hand, "Um, yeah, that's totally me. Nice to hide from-er-meet you Aura."

She squinted, "It's Ursula."

"I said that."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"No, you said-"

"And why are you here today?" Lambert cut off, gesturing to those wonderful empty seats. She took one.

"Well, I'm just going to be honest, I'm having problems with my significant other." Ursula explained.

Lambert tensed, this could be very, very humiliating for him. He got enough of that at home, he didn't want to bring it to work! "Really…" Of course, it didn't help that he now noticed his old lady was wearing an indecently low cut shirt. "And how is that?"

Ursula stretched, and that little number she was wearing was so not helping Lambert maintain a professional appearance, "He's…kind of a loser."

Lambert balked, "How could you say that?"

Ursula rose a perfect eyebrow, "He is. He never does anything right and he's always being thwarted by meddling kids!"

Lambert's lips pursed, oh, she was such a bitch sometimes! "Well maybe those meddling kids are equipped with freaking superpowers and unnaturally attractive good looks and he thinks it would be nice to be appreciated for just trying his hardest once and a while!"

Ursula shrugged, not even caring a whole lot, "You know, my first husband, before I started seeing the loser, was incredibly rich."

The therapist sneered, "That's nice."

"Like, mega rich."

"Okay."

"Rich enough to purchase Europe."

"Neat."

"And this new guy? He can't even afford to upgrade his wardrobe! I mean hello, dark robes went out of style in the Dark Ages." Ursula continued nonchalantly, picking her fingernails.

"I happen to think that Dark Cloaks of Evil are incredibly sophisticated," Lambert shot back, "And only tasteless drones would think otherwise." Ha, she got served!

"Uh! He' s not even that attractive!" She continued, and gestured to herself, "I mean, can you see someone like me dating a pale, gaunt, nerd man?"

Lambert gasped. That one had stung. "You're not that great…" He grumbled.

Ursula rolled her eyes, "You've been staring at my chest the whole time I've been in here."

"Don't even use that on me, you and your…your skank tops!" He replied quickly, obviously flustered.

Ursula mock-gasped, "My skank tops! How dare you! It says right on the label they're tramp tees!"

"They are skank tops! SKANK TOPS!" Lambert yelled back, throwing professional dignity to the wind like a child hocking a loogie out of a school bus's window.

Ursula pouted and seemed to give Lambert an appraising eye, "You know, you're rather attractive…"

Lambert blushed, "Thanks."

"If it wasn't for my total wet blanket of a man I'd so jump your bones." She said contemplatively, tapping a finger against her mouth.

The therapist's eyes widened, she wanted to cheat on him?! With him?! Wait, what? "I think you and your dashingly good looking young man-"

"He's not good looking. He's not even young," Ursula complained, "And don't even get me started on the intimacy issues…"

Now Lambert was clearly insulted, "What intimacy issues?"

"He's just so impersonal ALL of the time," She elaborated, "Every time we get ready for snookie nookie, he locks himself in the bathroom for at least two hours, sometimes I hear him crying, and then he just wants to talk about his feelings. I mean, who puts up with that kind of crap? The guy should be mature enough to handle sex by now!"

"You know, most girls your age- old age I might add- would kill to have a guy who wants to be in an open relationship. Just because he's vulnerable and sensitive doesn't mean that he's got intimacy issues! Maybe he just has performance anxiety and certain nagging harpies don't make the process any easier because all they do is yell and say hurtful things about certain things underneath pants!" He protested, getting red in the face.

She was trying hard not to laugh. Really, she was. "You know, you rant like you've had experience, Dr. Bertlamb." She commented snidely.

Lambert immediately regained composure, coughing awkwardly into his hand, "No, no. It's an ancient voodoo practice we therapists use to um, connect with the other person in the relationship-"

"You mean the common psychiatry practice therapists use to connect with people by role playing as each other?" Ursula suggested helpfully.

"I said that."

"No, no you did not."

"Yes I did."

"No you didn't-"

"So, surely your handsome young man has redeeming qualities?" Lambert cut off quickly.

She paused thoughtfully, "Um…wow. This is incredibly difficult-"

"It can't be that hard-"

"Oh, it is. It's like I have to dig through ten tons of radioactive sewage to find a positive aspect of his character," She reinforced, "It's like, he's not handsome, he's not rich, he's in a dead end job, he likes boy bands-"

"Boy bands create very catchy music," Lambert defended, "Plus all of their merchandize has surely stimulated the economy."

Ursula's eyes widened as if she had just had a revelation, "Oh!"

Lambert leaned forward, "Yes?"

"I forgot to pick up his dry-cleaning. I guess he'll have to wear that velvet magenta tracksuit I bought him for Christmas tomorrow at work." She said, smacking her open palm against his forehead.

Lambert growled, "Damn it, infernal woman, what are you good for?"

She stretched again in that skank top.

"…I see. You make a very clear argument," Lambert trailed off, drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth slightly.

"So what do you think I should do, Dr. Bertlamb?" She asked coyly, batting her eyelashes, "Because the singles' market is looking pretty good right now…" She gave him a wink, "You married?"

Lambert fidgeted nervously with his clip-on tie, "Apparently not for long." He murmured, before clearing his throat, "Aura-"

"Ursula."

"Right, I said that."

"…"

"I think you should cherish this handsome, grade A quality man you've got on your hands. He's intelligent-"

"More like moderately not stupid."

"-brave-"

"Like a neutered bunny rabbit in front of a grizzly bear."

"-charismatic-"

"Well, I suppose he did get off the couch yesterday to grab more Cheetos-"

"-is very skilled at many things-"

"…He tried needlepoint once. Didn't quite work out for him."

"-and can look at your lumpy ass without hurling profusely," He finished up elegantly, a bit peeved at Ursula's constant interruptions.

Ursula stared at him crossly, "My ass is not lumpy."

"Of course not. Just like your forehead doesn't make me want to grab the nearest syringe full of Botox because it's not wrinkly." He replied, two could play at this game. Oh yes, two indeed.

"Well maybe, if certain moronic losers with intimacy issues wouldn't cause me so much stress, there wouldn't be any wrinkles!" Ursula snapped in a false indignation, turning her nose up.

"Oh yeah? Well maybe if certain soul sucking harpies with SKANK TOPS didn't try to break people's spirits, he'd be able to get a REAL job that pays enough to buy a map of Europe and then could save up and finally achieve his dream of becoming a real estate agent! One with business cards!" He heaved, breathing slightly, "But no he can't be a super good real estate agent because he's constantly having to tote around a TASTELESS WATER BOTTLE full of STUPID that will spread the STUPID to other STUPID people so the soul sucking harpy with the SKANK TOP can have a physical body and isn't some weird spectral thing!" He breathed in deeply, "And that's why your DAMN GOODLOOKING MANFRIEND is stuck being an underappreciated evil overlord!"

Ursula gave him a few seconds to calm down, "Are you ready to go home now?" She asked flatly, stifling the chuckles behind her hand, "Because those dandelions are growing out of control in the backyard."

Lambert sunk into his chair, very much defeated indeed, "How long did you know it was me?"

She smirked, "Since I walked in the door. The left side of your disguise glasses doesn't even have a lens and all your stationary says 'Lambert Malmaris' on it. Plus, Dr. Bertlamb? C'mon, even your half semester at Evil Community College should have taught you some creativity when coming up with a pseudonym. Besides, it's not even an anagram, you threw an extra 'B' in there."

"Why do you constantly have to bring down my self-esteem?" He pouted.

"I'm your soul sucking harpy of a wife, that's my job," She said coolly, "Have you actually been giving advice to people?"

"Yes." He said in a whiny voice, "Awesome advice."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really really." Lambert was very mature for his age.

"Then why did I see a time traveler with a shotgun, some girl in a Naruto tee shirt punching a boy in a Teen Titans hat, a raccoon addicted to painkillers, a good looking boy with a blonde girlfriend crying in some dark alley in the fetal position, your favorite minion with two staples in his eye, a red head trying to write philosophical haikus, an old lady stroking an Easy Bake Oven, and a surfer with three firecrackers shoved up his nose?"

Lambert muttered, "You forgot the crazy ex gangster trying to shoot people," Between his fingers which were now cradling his head in despair.

"Honey, just face it, you aren't cut out to be a therapist." She said easily, "You can't even handle me."

"But you're a bitchy cloud thing," He protested.

"And you're a pasty overlord. Let's not take a detour from that whole reality thing we love so much," She coaxed, extending a hand.

Lambert begrudgedly took it, "What about Doris?" He said, for they shared a bond now.

"I took the liberty of finding you a replacement." Ursula said, "And they said they would be more than happy to keep Doris on as a secretary- what with her pro wrestler credentials and all."

Lambert exhaled, "Fine. But I'm finding one of Catty's fan boys to clear the yard of those dreaded dandelions."

"Fair enough, let's go home," Aura said as the two of them walked out.

"Can we have snookie nookie?" Came Lambert's voice.

"I have a headache."

"You always have a headache. You should really have someone look into that."

"Sure thing."

Neither of them noticed that Doris was already frantically chipping away at the name plaque on the office's wall, replacing the letters of Dr. Bertlamb with three a's, one n, one d, one r, two s's and one C.

OoO

And we're out! Thank you to everyone who read this story and reviewed! It was fun, but all barely mediocre things must eventually come to an end, I'm afraid.

Thanks again!

!nym!

Note:

Lambert's new office hours as a real estate agent can be located on his myspace.