"So, Rose, why do you want to work here?" her interviewer asked, regarding her seriously.

Alba sat across the desk from Doctor Rudolph Bradford, the owner, manager, and practicing vet at The Dog Doctor and Sanctuary. A golden retriever was currently resting his head on her knee, looking up at her with deep brown pleading eyes. She scratched him behind the ears and he wagged his tail happily before sloppily licking her knee.

"Well, I just love animals. And they tell you to do what you love, love what you do, so I figured working with animals would be something I'd like to pursue," she replied.

"And why should I hire you, over someone else with equal experience?' the doctor asked, pushing his slipping round-framed glasses back up onto his beaky nose.

"Because I'm a dedicated and reliable worker. You can always count on me to be on time or early for every shift, and it will always be with a smile on my face. I'm compassionate, towards both people and animals, and I have plenty of experience working with the public and doing customer service. I'm also very good at organizing and time management. I think I have all the necessary qualifications for the job. And I'd really love to work with you to help animals," she answered.

"If you did get the position, your primary duties would include answering the phone and taking appointments, making sure to allow time between appointments so that no waits too long, maintaining the waiting room, making sure the dogs who live here all have access to food and water, and occasionally, you may need to walk them if the regular dog walker calls out sick. Think you can handle all that, Rose?" the doctor questioned.

"I believe I'm more than capable of doing all that and more, if necessary. I will strive to both meet and exceed your expectations of me," she replied.

"Well then Rose, welcome aboard," he said, extending his hand to her across the desk.

She shook his hand heartily. "Thank you so much, sir. I promise, you won't regret it."

"I don't expect I will. But even still, you'll be on probation for the next ninety days. After the ninety days are up, I'll do an employee and either extend to you a permanent position at the practice, or wish you good luck and goodbye and send you on your merry way."

"What kind of hours will I be working here?" Alba asked.

"Monday through Friday, nine am to five pm. We're not open for business on the weekends, and I have a girl who comes in regularly and takes care of the resident dogs on Saturdays and Sundays. The pay is fifteen credits an hour to start with, raised to twenty credits an hour if you become a permanent employee. And if there are any dogs in the Sanctuary that you are interested in, you'll be given first priority in adopting them."

"I don't suppose you have any dachshunds or corgis right now?" she asked, avoiding the impulse to chew her fingernails.

"Not at the moment, no. But we do some outreach with a couple of rescue groups in the area, and there is one that specializes in dachshunds. I could give you the information for the group, if you're interested," he said.

"Oh yes please. My husband and I have been wanting to adopt a female dachshund. We were just talking about it the other week," she said.

"Do you have any other pets?" he asked her.

"No, this would be our first and only. It's just me and my husband for right now," she replied.

"No children yet then, I'm guessing," he said, raising his eyebrows. "I just ask because dachshunds can be funny sometimes when it comes to kids. If they're raised up with them from the get go it's not usually so much of a problem. But when a new baby is introduced into the family, they either become very jealous of it, or overprotective, sometimes to the point where they won't allow one parent or the other to approach the baby. And sometimes, they're just fine with it. There are exceptions with every rule, of course. I just wanted to mention it so that you're aware, that's all."

"How'd you know I was pregnant?" she asked, her hand drifting down unconsciously to rub her abdomen.

"Your gait. Your hips have already begun to widen slightly in anticipation of birth , and it shows in your gait. I was a forensic anthropologist for fifteen years, before I became a vet," he said.

"Is that going to be a problem?" she asked. "My being pregnant?"

"Not if you don't make it one. If I cared, I wouldn't have offered you the job. I'm counting on you being honest though when you say that you're reliable," he said. "Obviously, I know you'll have to go on leave at some point, and that's alright. I can get my daughter to cover your position in the short term, if necessary, to allow you to spend time with your baby. You could come back part-time, and then bump back up to full-time when you're ready."

"Thank you, Doctor, I'll do my best," she said with a smile. "So, you were a forensic anthropologist for a long time before switching careers. Why'd you decide to become a vet instead?"

"I wanted to practice on living, breathing patients. By the time people got to me, they were just bones, occasionally some skin and organs. There was so little left I could do for them, besides try to put them back together and figure out how they became the way they were. But I grew tired of death and wanted to help others, and I've always loved animals, so it seemed a natural leap for me," he replied. "Been doing it for over twenty years now."

"You look good for your age, Doctor," she said sincerely.

"Thank you, dear," he beamed. "That's nice of you to say so. Anyway, what's today? Friday? Let's say you start on Monday, brand new pay period. Is that too soon for you?"

"No, not at all. I look forward to diving right into it. Thank you so much for your time, Doctor Bradford," she said, shaking his hand once again.

"The pleasure was all mine, dear, the pleasure was all mine."

"So spill it girl, how'd it go?" Jack asked eagerly as Alba got into the hover car. He waited for her to buckle her seat belt before pulling up and away from the vet's office and piloting a course back home.

"I got the job," she said, her tongue poking its way through her teeth. "I start Monday of this upcoming week."

"Really? That's awesome! Good for you, Rosie. How's the pay? Is it decent?"

"Fifteen credits an hour, forty hours a week, to start. If I become a permanent employee, he'll increase my pay to twenty credits an hour."

Jack frowned. "That doesn't sound like part time. That sounds an awful lot like full-time."

"So? Jamie and I will be working practically the same hours, except he'll leave earlier than me in the mornings. Our schedules will sync up perfectly, we'll both get home round about the same time. I can still be home early enough to make dinner, and the vet's office is just a tube ride away from the penthouse. It's perfect, exactly what I wanted. Something to keep me busy during the day. And I'll have plenty of free time in the morning, because I'm usually an early riser," she defended.

"Fair enough," he conceded.

"Well, I'm glad I have your approval, dad," she said sarcastically.

"You don't need my approval. I'm just looking out for you, that's all."

"Yeah? Well, I can look out for myself. I appreciate it, but I don't want to be coddled, Jack."

"Is that what you think I'm doing? Coddling you?"

"You sound like you don't trust me to make my own decisions for myself. I'm perfectly capable of deciding what's best for me. I think I know better than a man, at any rate," she said wryly.

"Alright, point taken. Sorry," he said with chagrin.

"If you were really sorry, you'd take me for ice cream. And waffles."

"Is that so?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

"Mmmm, 'fraid so," she replied, shaking her head ruefully.

"What about ice cream on top of waffle cones?" he suggested.

"I suppose that would be an acceptable substitute," she sniffed.

Jack sighed dramatically. "Is this what you do to the Doctor, to make him bend to your wiley feminine ways?"

Alba laughed. "Hardly. I just pick my battles with him, that's all."

"Alright, you want ice cream? I'll give you ice cream," Jack said, turning the hover car abruptly.

Alba gasped, and slid across the seat into the door. "The hell?! What are you doing? You're going to get us killed!"

"Not enough close doll, my reflexes are cat-like. We're going back the way we just came. The best ice cream in the city is literally just across the street from the vet's office. Spanelli's Italian Bakery and Homestyle Creamery. They sell cannoli, and tiramisu, and other Italian desserts, and all the ice cream is homemade, over twenty flavors."

"Oh. I can see that maybe being a problem in the future."

"And why's that?" he questioned.

"Because I'll probably gain thirty pounds in ice cream alone," she laughed. "And that's not even starting on the cannoli."

That night, Alba and the Doctor were lying on the bed stark naked, luxuriating on top of the ridiculously expensive and silky blue sheets they'd received as a wedding gift from one of his older, wealthier cousins. They were wrapped up wholly and completely in each other, both literally and metaphorically, as each of them saw only the other. He was half straddling her, his lean, strongly-muscled thigh pressed tight against her own comparatively creamy pale and soft one, his arm thrown loosely over her shoulder, while her own arm wrapped under his and draped lightly across his back, her fingers massaging gently, absently at the tight band of muscles bunched there under her hand. They were joined at the lips as well as the hips, their tongues tangling passionately together in an an ever constant, urgent quest to completely taste every lush, red part of each other. She could feel his growing arousal pressing hotly and insistently against her sex, the engorged head of his cock just barely nudging at her already damp folds. She flushed with heat at the slight, intimate touch and felt a rush of sticky warmth from between her legs. Her rolled her onto her back and settled carefully between her thighs, wasting no time taking himself in hand and lining himself up with her entrance, where she was waiting, hot and aching for him. She inhaled once, sharply in anticipation, and then he was pushing up and inside of her tight, wet velvet heat.

"Oh fuck, Rose," he groaned softly, his lips pressed firmly against the side of her neck.

"Jamie," she purred in response, knowing he loved it when she called him by his nickname, raking her nails up and down his back and over his bum, before finally locking her ankles tightly behind him, urging him deeper into her body with a satisfied little sigh of relief.

He ground his pelvic bone against hers, stroking down against her rather than up and into her. He kept this up for a while, balancing himself on his hands placed on either side of her trembling body. He was breathing heavily with the exertion, and sweat beaded up on his brow and dripped down onto her face like stray, salty tears. She did not bother to brush them away, because a moment later he reached out and swiped his thumb across both her cheeks, effectively wiping the sweat away. He inclined his head down to capture her lips again with his own, sucking her lower lip possessively into his mouth and nibbling on it gently until she opened completely to him and issued a small, pleading moan from the back of her throat in response. His head dipped lower, kissed briefly along her jawline before he bent down and sucked first her left nipple into his mouth, then the right, nipping and sucking enthusiastically at both of them in turn until they had both pulled into taut pink, aching peaks under his careful ministrations. He felt her body go stiff underneath of him, and then begin to shudder with wanton pleasure. He shifted against her, propping her legs up on his shoulders so that he could thrust deeply into her. His head hung over her chest, the ends of his stiffly spiked hair tickling softly against her flushed, dewy skin. His rhythm became increasingly more erratic as he approached his own climax, and he thrust several more times deeply and urgently, before finally emptying himself into her with a ragged, breathless exaltation. He collapsed against her, still panting with the effort, his head pillowed on her gently heaving breasts. They lie together like that for several minutes before the Doctor eventually heaved himself off of Alba and onto the pile of pillows behind him on the bed. He reached out and took her hand in his own, threading his fingers through hers and squeezing gently.

"I love you," she whispered to him through the dark.

"I love you, too," he said, reaching out to pull her tightly against him. He pulled the sheets up from underneath of them and tucked them loosely around their bodies before reaching down to pull up the coverlet, which was bunched up at the end of the bed. He pulled it up and it drifted down over them, settling softly over them and keeping them wrapped in its pillowy embrace.