Heat Rating: Fire

Content Warnings: Graphic sexual content

Dr. Cu helps people discover what they need. But who will help Dr. Cu find what he needs?

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was five...make that six kills ago."

A deep sigh fell from Cu's lips. "Cut the crap, Deputy...." He glanced at the angry letters scrawled across the box marked NAME in the standard questionnaire the woman had filled out in his waiting room. "Deputy You. Perhaps I should use your first name. It does define you well, my dear Fuck. A common name that I've heard many times."

Cu looked across his desk through the one-way mirrored division. Seated in front of him, unable to see him, the lanky blonde crossed lovely legs, her skirt hitched above her knees. Large hazel eyes flashed with anger and he sighed again. She wasn't happy to be here. Well, neither was he, and he had better things he could be doing than counsel a trigger-happy nutjob.

"Whatever," she said. "My nickname is Bite Me. Up Yours works too."

He drummed his fingers on his desktop. "Until you put aside your low self-esteem and authority issues, and we get to why you've been suspended pending my signature, I'll call you Miss Boring. Think you're the first officer to resent that seat?"

Cu had a PhD in Psychology, Human Sexuality, Bio-Chemistry and Advanced Medicine. He had the honor of eventually getting to know every officer in the metropolis of San Francisco who overused their firearm, supported a hardwood beam instead of a chip on their shoulder, and resisted looking inward for the reason the power trip had spiraled out of control.

He clicked online and began scanning--Elizabeth Peter's--official paperwork. Less than one year off highway patrol and desk duty, this particular officer had racked up four shootouts. Seven months ago she dropped an unarmed, suspected drug dealer. The teenager didn't get up. The latest discharge of her weapon would be the reason why she'd been forced to report to him, the contracted shrink. Three days past, the brother of the suspected dealer plugged her partner before her hail of bullets tattooed his chest and marked him to join his brother.

"Your partner gonna make it?" he asked.

"ICU, lung collapsed. Yeah, he should pull through." She snorted. "Sorry I killed his assailant. Can I go now?"

"You're twenty-eight and unmarried. This officer you work with, he the reason you shot the perp seven times?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I love rescuing married cops into doughnuts and coaching little league." She reached a slender finger to tap the screen between them. "Very weird. Phantom of the opera? Or are you just a freak who gets off watching in the shadows. God knows what you're doing with your hands right now."