Anyone I Know?

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Summary: When Jack comes by the Clinic to share some good news, the doctor leaps headlong into an unfortuante conclusion and a lot of misery.

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Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, they don't like me.

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"Hey, Doctor, do you have a minute?"

Very methodically, Dr. Timothy Cuthbert set down his pen on top of the manuscript for a new book in the works, folded his hands, and smiled pleasantly up at the lanky young man shuffling awkwardly in front of his desk.

"Of course, Jack. What can I help you with?"

Jack coloured slightly, breaking into a huge grin. Tim nearly laughed; it was rare to see the shy, withdrawn farmer excited enough to smile, let alone grin.

"I want to show you something; I need an opinion."

Without waiting for a reply, he dug carefully into his bag. Tim choked slightly on his coffee, but kept a perfectly neutral expression.

"A Blue Feather," he noted, unheeding of the arm of his chair coming loose in his death grip as vague images of the sweet, cheery little brunette on the other side of the curtain floated through his mind. "Anyone I know?"

The soft pink in Jack's face turned swiftly bright red.

"Uh, yeah, I think you probably know her. But, you know, do you think it's a decent feather? When Rick gave Karen her feather, all the girls spent a whole afternoon talking about the size, colour and texture. I don't want…um, someone else to feel ripped off."

The doctor strongly suspected that his smile resembled someone giving birth to a flaming thistle patch.

"It's a good feather, Jack. I think she'll love it."

Much encouraged, the frown creasing Jack's forehead relaxed.

"Thanks, Doctor. Well, I guess I'd better go get it over with before I chicken out again."

And with one last self-deprecating grin, the farmer was gone, leaving a worriedly fuming Doctor in his wake.

Damn it, when the hell had this happened? It was entirely conceivable that he had missed something, but when?

The doctor had made something of a hobby – more of a guilty pleasure, if truth were told – of watching his pretty little employee and student lately, and the last time he'd looked, Jack and Elli had been decent friends.

Not surprising, as Jack, with his shy nature, slow to open up but eager to please, was all but a blinking neon sign announcing to Elli, who had taken it as her personal mission statement to make the shaggy-haired newly made farmer feel welcome in Mineral Town.

Perhaps her cheerful, cuddly friendliness was a little overwhelming to Jack (there was no accounting for taste, after all, Tim had thought more than once with a bewildered shrug), because they had never seemed to be anything but friends. And even that, tentatively on the young man's part.

Tim had long suspected that Jack was a little afraid of her.

But perhaps, he thought now with a pained internal groan, he had stumbled upon the solution to this mystery.

Perhaps what had seemed at the time to be Jack's reticence to be as thoroughly cuddled as Elli invariably cuddled, was something else.

Perhaps, all this time, Jack had been nursing deeper feelings for Elli than the friendship she radiated like a beacon of warmth and welcome that the doctor occasionally compared her to when he'd had too much to drink and was feeling particularly sappy.

Tim always made a mental note to be far away from Elli during these times. No need for her to experience her boss Being Poetic. Even he wasn't too crazy about seeing that once sobriety set back in.

This was all, decidedly, beside the point.

Somewhere along the way, Jack had obviously stopped feeling only friendship for Elli, and these Stirrings had made him hesitant around her. However, with the Blue Feather appearing abruptly on the scene, it seemed that his Stirrings had overcome his Hesitation.

Now the only question was, did Elli feel the same?

A delighted squeal drifted from the waiting room.

The arm of the doctor's chair popped free.

Apparently, she did.

Alright, Timothy, he thought sternly at himself, nearly going so far as to shake a stern finger in his own face. There are two ways you can handle this. Actually, there are probably more, but there are two main ways you can handle this. You can either be as happy for a sweet girl, and an excellent employee, as she deserves, and retain at least her friendship and hopefully her employment here, or you can abandon all of your previous behaviour patterns to rant and rave like a poorly conceived melodrama villain, and lose two of your closest friends.

The decision was, of course, an easy one. Poorly conceived melodrama might have its points – for one thing, it offered a lot of very effective stress relief. But it had such a way of leaving a person feeling ridiculous.

And in this case, he sorely doubted that he needed any additional help there. A thirty-four year old man working himself into a fit because a twenty-two year old child was planning to marry a nice boy, far closer to her own age than her grumpy, curmudgeoney boss. There was a big difference, he told himself sternly, this time complete with finger-wagging, between a little girl with a crush, and a young woman with a firm grasp on what she wanted. Elli, unquestionably, fit far more into the former category with her blushing and sunbeam smiles and soft brown eyes radiating affection when she looked at him.

In short, the girl was too young for him, too innocent, too optimistic, and he knew perfectly well that he had little more real interest, lasting interest in her than she did in him. He had simply been blindsided by the sensation of being the center of a pretty girl's attention for the first time in…well, ever, and now that he had finally stepped back to think about it, he was heartily ashamed of himself.

After all, it was nothing short of idiotic to imagine himself romantically interested in a girl at least six years too young for him, and very possibly ten.

Therefore, if Elli planned to be married to Jack, he would smile and laugh and tease as kindly as any boss might tease a favourite employee.

With these closing remarks to himself, Tim set about attempting to reattach the arm to the chair, and engrossed himself so deeply in the matter of how he had managed to send little bits of wood skittering across the room, that he entirely missed the little visitor bounding excitedly into his office.

"Doctor!" Elli gasped, winded from a solid fifteen minutes of dancing about the waiting room of the Clinic in celebration of a job well done. "The most amazing thing is happening!"

He sent her a tight little smile, before retrieving a screwdriver from his desk.

"Yes, I thought from the uproar that you might have received some good news."

She nodded enthusiastically, her grin stretching nearly beyond the confines of the average human face.

"I thought I would have to keep at him for at least another couple seasons, but Jack came by today, and told me that he's finally going to propose to Mary!"

For the second time that day, Tim choked, and wondered about his terrible timing in sipping at his enormous cup of coffee.

"Mary?" he repeated, floored.

"Well, yeah!" Elli chirped brightly, pushing him gently aside and reaching into the clutter that was his desk drawer to withdraw a screwdriver. "They've been madly in love from nearly the first time they spoke, but they're both so shy when it comes to their own feelings – it must be something about academics – that it took my entire intimidation factor to convince Jack that it was his job to propose."

"Intimidation factor," he repeated, falling comfortably into the routine of echoing back the key words of each of her fluttery, joyously rambling statements.

"I've been picking on him nonstop, until he's been almost afraid to come near me," she giggled, entirely unrepentant.

"I—I see," Tim said faintly. I guess that could explain it, too.

Elli's expression changed swiftly from rapturously happy to deeply concerned as her boss's knees seemed to give out, and he slumped helplessly to his armless chair.

"Doctor! Are you feeling okay?"

"Of course," he assured her with a smile far more genuine than his last. "Just a little shaky all of a sudden."

She fixed him with a playfully disapproving look.

"I think it's all that coffee you've been drinking lately. Why don't I go get you a glass of water?"

As she bustled quickly away, he sighed, dark eyes fixed attentively to her backside. He could nearly hear his own flimsy, hastily constructed logic crumbling within his own mind. Reaching for his coffee, he shrugged.

"Okay, so I'm an idiot."

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End Notes: Mwehehehe! This was fun, fluffy silliness. No point, no plot, and no redeeming value. Just the way I likes 'em!