Anger Management

Hitting on You: Part One

"You've got to be kidding me!" Happy screamed. It was the second night in a row she had been awoken by a phone call.

"What?" Happy snapped into her phone, rubbing her hand over her eyes. She didn't even want to know the time; she was sure it'd just anger her more.

"Good morning, Ms Quinn," a disgustingly cheerful voice rang though her phone. "Are you awake yet?"

"Oh, God," Happy groaned. Toby, the psychiatrist.

"No, it's just me. Though I have been told the resemblance is frightening." Toby laughed at his own joke. "It's already four, get out of bed."

"And why the hell would I do that?" Happy growled.

"Because we, my dear Happy, are going boxing."

**

Happy stood outside the gym and looked around then at her phone. Yes, she had gotten the address right. So where was Toby?

Just then the gym's doors opened and a friendly, slightly sweaty Toby gestured for her to enter.

"Sorry I started without you," he said. "But you took so long that I got tired of waiting and started by myself. I hope you're not going to be boxing in that?"

Happy rolled her eyes and cocked her hip. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" She demanded.

"Well for starters, skinny jeans, however great they look on you, are pretty restraining. There's no way you'll fight efficiently in those," he pointed to her heeled combat boots, "and a leather jacket sure as hell isn't going to help you either." Toby looked over her outfit once more then shook his head. "No. It'll have to go."

Happy snorted. "If this is some lame attempt at trying to get into my pants, it's not working."

Toby laughed and shook his head. "You really are something, Happy." His eyes seemed dazed when he looked at her but he quickly snapped himself out of it. "The changing rooms are over there. You'll find some extra clothing the gym buys for people who think jeans is appropriate for working out."

With a huff from Happy, and a chuckle from Toby, Happy left the room to change.

**

"Alright." Toby said. "I noticed earlier that you're an orthodox fighter, which means your right side is dominant so that's what you'll lead with."

Happy stood in front of a punching bag she was sure weighed more than her. Not that she was one to take the easy way out. She nodded and slipped her hands into the boxing gloves.

"So first, you'll throw a right jab followed by a left cross, and then a right hook. Got it? I'll help you by guiding your arms and repositioning your body if you go wrong." Toby said.

Suddenly she felt two large hands place themselves on her hips. She sucked in a deep breath and quickly moved herself away from Toby. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before and she was convinced he could hear the thump - thump of it over her erratic breathing. She certainly could.

Toby's eyes widened and he looked confused. When he saw her reaction, however, a smile broke across his face. "Happy, don't worry. It's just me. Your posture was all wrong, I was trying to show you how to position your hips."

Happy nodded and saw his sincere expression. Of course there was no one else behind her. It was only Toby and her in the boxing area of the gym. She sat down as she waiting for her heart beat to return to normal and her breathing to even out. Toby sat down next to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Hap, are you okay?" He asked softly.

Happy nodded but she could tell Toby didn't seem convinced. All at once she remembered that Toby was her therapist and she was supposed to tell him about things that bothered her. Perhaps it was okay to talk to someone. Perhaps she didn't have to be alone anymore.

She looked at him and found herself hesitating to tell him about her past. He must have seen that on her face because he promptly stood up and held a hand out to pull her up too.

Once they were both standing at the punching bag again Toby spoke up. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. If in a week, or a month, or even a year you want to talk about it; I'll be here. Until then, I will help you deal with your anger in the healthiest possible way."

Happy nodded and smiled at the shrink. "Thank you," she said. "But for now, I'd just like to hit something. If you don't mind."

"Sure," Toby said and stepped closer to her. He held out his hands and asked, "May I?"

Happy nodded and closed her eyes, waiting for Toby's hands to find their place. Once they did, she felt the same panic she did before, only now she pushed down on it. She would get over her childhood fears and live her life the way she wanted to.

His hands were soft, not firm. They ghosted over her hips, almost as if he were afraid too. He lightly turned her to the side and held his arms out to take hers. Once he showed her the basic principles, she started hitting the punching bag.

Faster and faster and harder and harder. She thought of every foster parent who didn't like her enough to keep her. She thought of all the mean kids from school who teased her relentlessly for not having a family. She thought of her mother who died and her father who gave her up.

Her punches were stopped by Toby who took one look at her face and pulled her into his arms for a hug. She hadn't realised she had been crying. She tried to pull away from his embrace but Toby continued holding her and stroking her hair, her back, her arms. She fell into his chest and held on to him. Perhaps she wasn't better off alone.