A/N- Strong Language, Adult scenes


A/N- set in season six when Liam is trying to hide from everyone at school


"Uhh...I've got meetings with Mr Condit and Miss Tate Liam?...Can this wait?"

"Umm...no..." Liam said slumping in the chair. Sure he had to think of something. But the one thing that was destroying him. he had to keep secret. No-one, no-one in beacon hills would ever look the same way at him again. He'd have to leave. Beg his mom and step-dad to go somewhere else. Mom could practise Tennis somewhere else. He dad could always work at another hospital. He glances at the Blue supernatural book on her cabinet.

"I guess you've heard stuff about me..."

"I've heard about harrassment. What have you been going through?" She asks, her long dark fingers tapping the desk.

"It's been stressful. I...I haven't been able to go out...bullies" Liam shrugs. But how can her tell her why? What would she think? He was the blonde blue eyed Lacrosse player. He didn't didn't look like the type to get bullied. Judging by the looks a couple of nights ago. She wouldn't understand, like the rest of the strangers. There's a bang on the door, Liam looks back, trying to control a growl.

"Are you okay?"

"The door?"

"Hmmm?" Monroe goes to it, taps her index finger on the door, before she stands behind his chair. "Relax Liam. Just close your eyes...and breathe. Just listen to my voice" She grabs the shoulder of the chair and can feel the boys eyes on her.

"How...how did you get those scratches?" She realises that she's standing right over him. She takes a step back tugging at the skin on her neck.

"Branch scratches. I went for a run" She nods.

"At night?"

"Why not? Midnight cardio gets the blood running, wouldn't you agree?" Monroe asks.

"What do you do? I mean..." He pauses as 'she rubs his shoulders.

"I mean you exercise, don't you Liam? I mean...I can certainly feel it" She puts her palms down over his chest. Sliding her index finger down his nipples.

"I...think...I think you're lying"

"Think? Or know?" Monroe said, leaning down and licking his ear. "Congratulations. You're a human lie detector! Maybe I should reward you?" She walks around the side of the chair. He moves it, to let her body through as she crouches down in front of him. She smiles as he unzips his jeans. Monroe pauses, staring at his boxers with a frown...….

"What?"He asks, "you not into polkadots?"

"I uhh...just don't want to take advantage, you've been uhh...dealing with some stressful situations, we can actually just talk" She rocks on her heels as a glimmer of guilt flashes arcoss her face.

"Then we can talk about that knife that Mason saw stuck in your desk?" Liam asks, eyebrows raised.

"I'd rather not" She said with a flat tone. She licks her bottom lip as Liam grabs her dark slender hands and places both of them on his crotch.

"Maybe we could do something else intead?" Liam asks, bright blue eyes on fire.

"Fine, but I want silence in return" She orders as she take him out of his boxers. It doesn't take him long to get hard, which is a relief as she has a client coming in less than twenty minutes. She suspects that he's...an other. She's suprised that his dick his normal. The therapist runs her hand along his shaft rubbing her thumb against his tip as he shifts in the chair.

"You can do more than touch..."

"Touching's fine for me" Monroe smiles stroking him harder as she scrapes her freshly painted nails down his thigh. "What are you?"

"I could ask the same question!"

"You think you're so smart, don't you?" She tuts, peeling up his shirt, she lightly licked his chest. She pulls herself up by the chair rungs and stands, crossing her arms. "Get dressed and look normal, I've got a client" She wraps her jacket around her as the boy stays stuck to his seat.

"A client? Cancel!" Liam demands.

"Are you joking? you need to get out" She says calmly.

"And meet up again?"

"As your counselor, sure, now off you go to class" Monroe waves him away.

"Don't talk to me like that! Like I'm a child!" He shouts. He pulls up his trousers when he sees her smile. He's whining with his pants down. He does look like a freaking child, an idiot that Scott would smack at the back of the head right now. He sorts himself out and hurries to the bathroom.

Splashing water on his face, he shifts around his pants. He's still a little hard, but he'll cover himself with his backpack. He reaches for, a paper towel to dry himself, when he looks in the mirror. "Shit!" He gasps.

He's glowing! But how long had his eyes been golden with desire?