It's smaller than Heracles imagined it, less clinical and the smell of bleach is almost entirely covered up by the candle burning idly at the receptionist's desk. A bit unorthodox, lacking in cute magazines, but Heracles is nonetheless enjoying the feng shui of the way the space in the room is laid out. The veterinarian is smaller than Heracles imagined him too, five and half feet at best. Heracles feels like a towering beanpole in comparison.
As Heracles studies his nameplate something he has struggled with for more than two weeks suddenly becomes an easy decision to make.
"Congratulations, you are my new veterinarian."
Heracles outstretches his hand; Dr. Honda looks less than enthused.
"I see," he says, eying it dubiously. "What have I won?"
They shake hands and Heracles allows his to linger. "I have sixteen cats, what do you think?"
The first noticeable shift of expression on Dr. Honda's face reveals nothing more than mild bemusement.
"That's over the legal limit," Dr. Honda says at last.
Heracles squeezes his hand before pulling away and leaving him with a wink. "I won't tell if you won't."