A/N: For lamje. Thank you for the prompts! The smutty one for "swimming" is under construction :)
W:
"Wren, you have to go and see him. You will be fine, he is just so sweeeeeet! An absolute sweetheart! really, a sweetie pie!" Thea's voice is all lilting and melodic. Slightly dreamy too, which means Dr. Thorington is probably a hottie. "Thea, I don't care if he is as sweet as honey sprinkled with edible ball bearings! I'm not going to your voodoo doctor." "Wren, he is not a voodoo doctor, the whole world goes for acupuncture these days. It's a centuries old medical practice!" "Needles, Thea, needles! Have you forgotten my fear of needles?!" "Wren, you can't turn your head. You have been staying home, probably in the same position, of three days now. May be it's time to toughen up and get some help." "I'll think about it." "No, none of that. I'll give you their number and if you don't go today, I'll drag your sorry ass there tomorrow myself." "Don't insult my ass..." You grumble, surrendering to the inevitable. "We both know I love your bouncy little bum. Now, are you going or not?" "Alright, I'll go see your sweet, sweet Dr. Thorington."
T:
The day is shite. It is bloody pish! If another pillock comes and says that he just needs massage and needles but is not going to do anything about his poxey weak muscles and disgusting diet, so you just need to fix him quickly, you are going to smash a vase onto his head. Or if another chavvy bleached chick comes with a bag of candies in her purse and asks for needles to lose "a couple pounds" you will just jump out of the window. Manky job, manky town, barmy muppets!..
W:
The office is nice and a bit too posh to your taste. The receptionist is as haughty as the Queen's corgis. Or is it because you just feel that all Brits are haughty? She might not even be British, maybe it's just Thea's sweetheart John Thorington is a Limey. She leads you to a pristine room and you climb on a table hissing from the pain in your neck. Why noone ever thinks about shorties when they make these? It's like PhysEd in the sixth grade all over again. When you are finally perched on the table, you feel like an idiot, with your feet dangling like those of a five year old on a bus. The door opens with a bang to the opposite wall and the sweetheart Dr. Thorington storms in.
T:
Great, another one of these hippies! You wonder if she is here to talk about energy streams surging through her body or her third chakra is clogged. The plonker plastic square glasses, short, almost shaved sides of her head, longer strands on top. What kind of a moron cuts such hair? It's silky, wavy and the brightest orange you have ever seen. It would look so nice falling on her shoulders. Although she is probably a man hater and does it to prove that she has unconventional understanding of beauty. Like the other hundreds of them, muppets.
W:
"G'day, what can I do for you?" He probably has a very nice voice, except he is snarling through clenched teeth. "Um… Hello?" He lifts his eyes at you. The thick black brows are drawn together and nostrils flare. Those are very, very beautiful eyes. "So, what seems to be bothering you?" He sticks his long nose back into your chart. "My neck hurts and I can't turn my head."
T:
Overdid yoga, didn't we? Probably after a three day cleanse and talking to trees. She has nice eyes though, big, brown, a smile hiding in them. Sure, John, it is exactly what you need. Getting all hot and bothered over a pretentious bird who is also a patient!
W:
"Turn to your right." Is he kidding you? You just said you can't. You are glaring at him but he doesn't even look up. The pause stretches and he finally lifts his eyes at you. "I can't. It doesn't turn either way. And it hurts." He sets the chart near you on the table and gets up. That explains the height of the table! God, he is huge!
T:
She has an exquisite neck, long and graceful. The jaw bones are delicate, skin pale and ethereal. Bollocks, are you getting randy over touching a woman's throat? Then you definitely chose a wrong profession, you tosser. "What happened?"
W:
"I don't know. I guess I just moved clumsily, and it sort of pulled, and it was very painful." He is looking at you with a very annoyed face. Did he expect a precise diagnosis? Damn it, Jim, I am Botanist, not a doctor! "Where were you when it sort of pulled?" Can his tone be more sarcastic?
T:
She chews on her lip, and is that a blush? "I was lying down... On my bed... On my back…. And I stretched my arms above my head, and it sort of happened." Bloody fuck, you did not need this visual! You move away from her cautiously. Blimey, she smells nice. Can she tell that you are holding your breath? She swallows, and the gentle throat moves.
W:
Can he tell that you are super embarrassed right now? Maybe not, since he buried his nose into your papers again. He looks even more pissed now. In the normal sense "pissed", not British "pissed". The jaw is set, and muscles move on the sides of it under the thick black beard. You are not much for facial hair, but that's one hell of a fine beard. Maybe he won't ask and you won't have to tell him that you were reaching for an Oreo when it happened.
T:
"Where you participating in any physical activity prior to it?" Sure, tell me how you were shagging some vegan coffee shop barista, who is definitely the next Kerouac. Or whatever the rebellious youth reads these days. "I was biking that morning, might have been slightly dehydrated from it, to think of it…" Is it some new term for bonking that you are not familiar with?
W:
He lifts his unbelievable eyes at you. "Biking?" "Yes, from the university. But it's just a city bike, nothing hardcore, not the Tour de France thing." You try to gesture the handlebars of a race bike in the air. He looks peevish and confused. And then he stares at your hands frozen mid-air.
T:
"What were you doing at the University?" Great, it sounded like you doubt she has enough brain cells to have any business there. "I mean, did you lift anything heavy?"
W:
"No, I just water flowers, the can is rather small." Great, it sounds like you are a janitor! Not that there is anything wrong with being a janitor, but aren't doctors famously snobbish about people's education?
T:
Alright, John, pull yourself together! Sod it, just do the exam and put the needles in. She obviously pulled it and you just need to loosen the muscles and nerves. Bollocks, her skin and elegant shoulders feel so good under your hands. Your fingers slide on her nape and she suddenly closes her eyes. "Does it hurt?" The giant eyes fly open and she blushes furiously. "No." You see the blush spreading down into her cleavage, and you just can't do it anymore.
W:
You are melting under his hot palms, your eyes close, and it takes all your concentration to stop your chest from heaving. And there you always thought it is a cliche from romantic novels and an Elizabeth Bennet type of thing. He is standing between your spread legs, and all you can think of is wrapping them around him and grabbing the collar of his white shirt. You can clearly imagine jerking his shirt open and the buttons scattering around the room. He suddenly stops touching you and practically jumps back from you. No, please, come back!
T:
"I am referring you to Dr. Slovak in the Meridian Clinic." That's the end of your self-control and you clench your teeth. Give up, John! Just accept it, you are screwed, there is no point in fighting it!
W:
What?! "Sorry?" "I am referring you to a different doctor. I would like to ask you out and it is against doctor-patient relationships ethics." He blurts it out in a very angry tone. As if you insulted him and now he is telling you to get out. The meaning of his words doesn't reach you brain right away. "You are asking me out?" He looks at you under the frowned brows. He looks like that grumpy dwarf from Snowhite, "Yes."
T:
"OK." She is smiling and her shapely legs with adorable tiny feet are dangling. Blimey, she is gorgeous! You are fighting the urge to touch the short orange fluff above her ear. There is only one thing left to sort out. "So how exactly did you sprain your neck?"
W:
Shit.