Doc crossed her arms, resting her hip against the counter. “Medically, there is nothing wrong with you. Your body functions perfectly. Your cat is healthy. What more could you want? Why this sudden urge to change who you are?”
Bailey stared at her hands where they twisted in her lap. “Lots of things have changed around here,” she said with a small laugh. “What’s it matter if I want to a little.”
Doc frowned. Things had changed. A lot, and quickly. But intuition told her Bailey’s issue was something specific. The female was submissive, moreso than the others of their clan, but she was in no way lacking pride. If what Doc suspected was true… this had to be hard to talk about.
“Is this about mating?” Doc asked quietly. She could practically smell the humiliation wafting from her friend, but there was no way to make this any easier for her. All Doc could do was stay professional.
Bailey swallowed twice before lifting her gaze, pushing her chin out and shoulders back. “Yes. It’s a possibility now. Even for me.”
“Of course it is.”
“And I’d like to be acceptable in the eyes of whatever male I choose.”
Doc didn’t add that Bailey would never choose a male who refused to account for the beauty inside as well as outside. She’d pick someone who wanted the whole package. And forever. So her issue was a moot point really.
“And you don’t think you’re acceptable the way you are?”
Bailey’s eyes never left Doc’s. “I think I could be better.”
Aw, screw professionalism.
Doc reached for her script pad, jotted down a line, and ripped it from the stack. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she handed it to Bailey who looked overcome with relief. She studied it, a frown creasing her forehead and causing the three braids that ran along one side of her scalp to pull forward. She shook her head in confusion, the rest of her curly hair falling over the other side of her face in a rippling curtain.
“I don’t understand,” she said, looking to Doc for an explanation.
“It’s a prescription. Relatively new. Called Fuqdat. It’s innovative, cutting edge medicine. I’m on it myself and it’s just about time for my next dose so I can show you how to administer it.”
Bailey rolled her eyes, the hand holding the script falling heavy to her lap.
“So, it’s like this,” Doc said in her most professional sounding voice. “Take your hand—whichever one you’re more comfortable with—and hold it up like so. Sort of like you’re making a fist, with the back of your hand facing away from you. Now slowly, but firmly, flip your middle finger up, leaving your other fingers down, and hold it… hold it… for about three solid breaths. Then return your hand to its original position.”
Bailey blinked at Doc’s antics. “You are the actual worst, you know that? You really are.”
“I’m actually not. It’s just that I’m true and I don’t like bullshit. And that could-be-better stuff, my friend, is utter bullshit.”
Bailey pursed her lips.
“You are strong and capable. You are beautiful and smart. You have been through a shitty upbringing and managed to become a loving, caring person. You’re a hard worker, you make damn good food, and you’re there for your friends when they need you. You are wonderful the way you are. There’s no better. This is you, and you need to remember it. Also, if you don’t mind me saying, your tits are banging. So, there’s that.” Doc shrugged. “Or you can fill the prescription.”
“No,” Bailey said, putting her hand up to ward off more of Doc’s medicine. “No, I think I’m good.” A smirky tilt of her lips told Doc she was finally seeing the light.
“You sure? If you need more, you know where to find me.”
Bailey shook her head, exasperated. “I swear you aren’t okay in the head.”
Doc shrugged in reluctant agreement. “Side effect of Fuqdat. Forgot to mention it.”
Scooting off the exam table, Bailey headed for the door. “Banging tits, huh?”
“Yup.” Doc grabbed her own tiny teats. “You’ve got the bongos, and I’ve got like, I dunno, the empty coke cans. But either way, we have tits. Let’s remember that.”
A laugh slipped past her friend’s lips, and her eyes twinkled with humor. Doc even thought her shoulders stood a little higher and her back a little straighter. Her confidence was returning. Whatever had shaken it was being flushed away with the truth, and Doc felt that warm satisfaction that came from truly helping someone who needed it. This was what her profession was all about.