(( A.N. A random continuation, because I just love using Brad to tease Ford, what can I say... XD ))

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Ford was feeling really, extraordinarily good that day. He wife had cooked him a delicious breakfast of her chicken's famous golden eggs, so that made him feel guilty about bothering her for lunch, even though she had invited him to. But, after everything she had done for him the night before, he would feel like a pest to come to her for her famously good cooking again so soon. And, well, to be honest, he was also a little worried she might want to... Do it, again. He wasn't sure if he could, so soon, and right before an appointment, how could he look anyone in the eye, later tonight DEFINITELY but no, it was decidedly the better idea to stay clear of his wife at lunchtime for a while, and start visiting Brad more often. His wife's famously good cooking was definitely a rival to Brad's, but Ford felt bad not visiting his old friend as much, and decided that he'd like to pay him a visit.

He even vaguely wondered if Brad might notice something a little different about him, now that he was a fully christened married man!

...Of course that was just a passing thought of humor. He would be aghast if Brad actually really guessed it. If he actually knew how positively -dirty- the doctor had gotten, at least in his own much-too-literal opinion... Of course as a doctor he had been forced to perform some rather invasive examinations on a few rare occasions, but... Although he may have touched a woman down there a few times before, it had certainly had never been without -gloves-!

Of course he had showered very well that morning! But he still had to wonder, paranoid, if perhaps he shouldn't bring some gloves home...

Hmm, actually, that might not be a bad idea at all. If he had his gloves, he might feel comfortable enough to do a really -thorough- examination of his wife's beautiful body... Perhaps she might like an oiled massage, lord knows she deserved one, for last night and all the shoulder, neck and back rubs she constantly gave him. Goodness, a lewd massage, what a thing to think of...

...At work...

He blushed, hard, suddenly remembering where he was. At his desk. Glancing up, he sighed in relief soon after realizing that no one else had come into his clinic since he last checked, half an hour ago. He had no scheduled appointments today until three PM, and it seemed today was one of those rare days where no one seemed to be particularly clumsy or otherwise in need of a bandage...

Well, 11:37 was much earlier than his usual lunchtime, but oh well and stuff it all. After what he'd experienced the night before, what could he care for something like a schedule...

Still, he waited until at least 11:45, to calm himself down after those rather intrusive thoughts...

Then he headed out, and since it was hot out that day, he undid the first couple of buttons on his collar. His dear wife had insisted on dressing him that morning, which he appreciated since he was still a little out of it, but she buttoned up all his buttons to the top. Usually he kept at least one open, two on a hot day. And today was hot so he undid two, exposing his collar and cooling him off...

When he went into the restaurant, nothing seemed out of place. Brad called hello to him from the front, busy cooking something. Carrie was delivering some drinks to the one other group eating there at the time, who were sitting by the band area. So he chose to sit on the other side, by the stairs. Nobody paid him much mind at first, then a minute later Carrier came up to him, the pen and pad in her hand. "Alright Doc, what can I get... Y-You..."

She seems to have trailed off, but he doesn't pay it much mind. Carrie can be a little flighty. "I'll start with a water with lemon. I'm still deciding what to eat, though."

"Oh... Course. I'll, get that... Just a second." She replies, even more distracted than Ford is with the menu, and quickly ducks away to fetch her husband.

Ford sees her whispering, but he can't hear her from his distance away. She is hissing into her husband's ear, "Oh my god, BRAD! Ford and Kym finally did it last night! She completely RAVISHED him! And I don't think Ford knows, but it's COMPLETELY obvious! Go help him!"

Carrie then quickly rushes upstairs, to fetch Marco to take over the cooking. Brad takes the turkey sandwich on wheat with tomato that was meant for the other table, boxes it up, and then takes it to Ford... Who is completely unaware not only of the dark round hickey his wife placed on his neck the night before, and hid with his collar... Well, valiant effort though it was, Ford entire lips were also bruised, which couldn't exactly be hidden quite as easily. It comically gave him the appearance of wearing some punk-ish shade of plum-purple lipstick...

'Good lord, Kym...' Brad smirked to himself, and aloud to Ford, he suggested heavily, "Hey, Ford! Old buddy, old pal! It's been a while! How about we take this food to your place and catch up? I assume you're not too busy, since you're here early?"

Ford nodded, the deduction made enough sense so he didn't question it too much at first, getting up from the table. But then, once he had it did occur to him that Brad would usually just chat him up as normal right at the table, so why did he want to go to the clinic...?

He was just wondering if he should ask, when walking towards the door, he noticed Wayne come in right ahead of him. When the playboy-mailman noticed him, he looked up and waved. "Hey Ford! How ya been...? Whoa..." Wayne suddenly trailed off at the sight of him, just as Carrie had. But unlike her, he blurted out, without thinking first, "H-Hey, are you okay, Ford? What the heck happened, did someone beat you up? ...Oh, wait..."

The glare Brad was giving him clued him in that something was off, and after thinking about it literally longer than two seconds, Wayne came to the realization for himself. Snorting back a smile, he side-stepped around the two. "Oh, uh, nevermind, Ford. I'll just leave this to Brad~"

Ford blinked, confused. "Leave what? What do you...?"

But the 'professional' didn't let him make any more of a scene, pushing him forward out the door. Not quite getting it, but at least getting the idea that he should follow, Ford let himself be led back to the clinic, and then up the stairs to his personal quarters above.

"Alright then, what's this about...?" Ford inquired again, but by now he was starting to get apprehensive. Deep down, he already knew.

So Brad felt no need to just out and say it, not right away. And anyways he couldn't, he was too busy holding his stomach and laughing, doubled over against the wall. When he finally calmed down, he managed to mutter, "Well, man, first of all, I just gotta say - Congratulations on finally celebrating your honeymoon!"

What else could the coy chef possibly be alluding to? The dense doctor blushed deep red, "H-How? How do you know, how is it so obvious?"

Instead of answering verbally, Brad led him to a nearby mirror. Instantly upon seeing his image, Ford groaned, and smacked his forehead. "Oh my god..."

Brad had a hard time of it, but he managed to calm his snickers. "Hey, don't be too embarrassed! I mean, just saying, that's kinda why I wear a bandana around my neck most days..." He winked, and Ford blushed all over again. "Still though man, she really did a number on your lips! She didn't go too rough on ya, right...?"

Ford immediately shook his head. "I'm fine! I mean, she might have gotten a little carried away, but, I'm sure she didn't mean to..."

Brad shrugged. "Well anyways, it'd kind of be your fault if she did, just saying - Do they not teach you guys about 'hysteria' in medical school anymore?"

Ford balked at that. "Of course not! No respectable medical institution would entertain that garbage! That diagnosis is complete and utter nonsense!"

Brad stood his ground and crossed his arms at that. "Psssh! Not for a married woman whose husband isn't giving her enough lovin', it isn't!"

The doctor went red as a tomato. He was struck silent, so the chef went on, "Dude, just trust me on this, will you? I'm a married man myself, remember? And besides that I know more about this world than just how to flip a flapjack, yanno? When a woman has promised to love you, and only you, forever... And you don't give her all the love she needs, well, she's gonna get frustrated! Like, how long has it been since the wedding night? At least two weeks? You seriously made your wife wait TWO WEEKS before you made love for the first time? I'm surprised you didn't leave home with a limp, if at all!"

Ford looked more than a little alarmed at that, which Brad couldn't help but snicker about some more. "Relax man, but, I'm just saying... I may not be a doctor, but with the experience I do have, let me just advise you this - Start making love to your wife at least two or three nights a week, and you shouldn't have to worry about her needing to jump your bones!"

The doctor huffed and rolled his eyes, looking away from his nosy friend. "Oh, is that your professional opinion, Doctor Brad?"

"Unless you want to come in to work looking like your're wearing gothic lipstick all the time?"

...Change of topic. Now.

"...What kind of sandwich is that."

Brad laughed, then patted him on the back before letting himself out. "Turkey! Though now I wish I had surprised you with something else, after that surprise of a lifetime!"

Ford huffed, and buttoned both of his collar buttons back up...

...It turned out Brad's advice did help, though.