by Golden Angel
"Of course," Brock said. "She'd never hurt a fly."
The moment he said the words, he felt the truth of them and knew he'd been kind of unfair to her. Especially after getting to know her. Yeah, she wore a lab coat and that had set off a lot of bad memories in the beginning, but the rest of his siblings had gotten over that pretty quickly. She was nothing like the doctors who had experimented on them.
Although she was still annoying.
But that wasn't why he'd growled along with his bugaboo. Both of them had growled because they hadn't liked seeing Eric touching her so intimately. Which was stupid and made no sense to him, but he couldn't stop himself from feeling that way.
"So." Dr. Phil's lips quirked with amusement as he studied Brock's expression. Most people said Brock's expression was unreadable, but he had the unsettling feeling Dr. Phil was reading far too much about Brock's innermost thoughts right now. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"
"Nope."
******
When Dr. Phil came back to her office after Brock's PT, Doc did her best to pretend she actually had paperwork to do and hadn't just been sitting around waiting to hear how Brock's session had gone. Even though she totally was. That he was surprised to see her still there didn't help either.
"Hello Harley," he said, walking over to the other small desk that he used when he was around. Dr. Phil was one of the few people allowed to call her by her middle name, which she liked only marginally better than her first name. “Almost done for the day?”
"I just had a few things to finish up," she said mildly, lying her ass off. She'd actually spent the last hour reading a whole twitter feed about how different Disney princesses would fare during a sword fight in their respective dresses and then trying to come up with the ultimate sword-fighting princess dress. Surreptitiously, she pushed actual lab reports over the sketches she'd made. "How did Brock's session go?"
As always, Dr. Phil acted like it wasn’t completely normal for her to be interested even though Brock was no longer under her purview. Then again, even when doctors gave up a patient it wasn't like they totally lost interest in that patient's well-being, so maybe there really wasn't anything unusual about the fact that she hadn't been able to concentrate on her date with Eric because she'd been so busy thinking about how Brock was doing.
"Good. He should be completely healed by the end of this week and ready to go back on duty as long as he doesn't reinjure his shoulder again between now and then," Dr. Phil said with a smile, sitting down to log onto his computer.
Doc felt the oddest mix of both relief and disappointment.
Relief because she wouldn't have to see Brock around the offices every day anymore.
Disappointment for the same reason.
It was the disappointment she really didn't understand. The guy could be such a jerk, why was she disappointed he would be gone?
Maybe because she'd had some half-baked hope of at least getting him to a point of being friendly, or at least not unfriendly, when she'd been working with him on a daily basis. Doc didn't like feeling as though someone didn't like her, even if the reason wasn't personal. She'd really thought helping him through his rehabilitation might help.
She didn't know why she kept doing this to herself. Why she’d waited to hear Dr. Phil’s report every time Brock had an appointment. It’s not like Brock had missed her when she’d stopped being the one to treat him or that he’d expressed any disappointment when Dr. Phil had shown up and taken over his PT.
Yeah, that would be the day.
It hadn't escaped Doc's notice that Brock didn't have the same kind of adverse reaction to Dr. Phil as he did to her. He was probably relieved
Which totally didn't hurt her feelings.
Sigh. Her puma huffed.
"I'm pretty sure the boy has a crush on you," Dr. Phil said out of nowhere.
Doc hadn't known it was possible to choke on absolutely nothing, but that was exactly what happened. She could see Dr. Phil turning his head slightly to watch in amusement as she thudded her fist against her chest, coughing.
"Who?" she asked as soon as she could get enough air to speak. The word came out sounding half-strangled but she was too taken aback to care. "Brock?"
She couldn't think of who else Dr. Phil might mean and yet she couldn't imagine why he would say something so ludicrous either. Inside her head, her puma sat up a little bit, interested. Silly animal. Doc couldn't figure out her animal's fascination with Brock, but she didn't approve.
"Yes, Brock Bunson," Dr. Phil said. She could see the little half-smile still on his face. He was enjoying this.
"Brock doesn't like me at all," Doc said, shaking her head. "That was a good one though. You got me." Who knew Dr. Phil would be so good at trolling?
Dr. Phil chuckled. "If you say so."
Narrowing her eyes at him, Doc waited for him to say something more defending his statement, because it seemed like he might actually be serious. But he just sat there, humming under his breath as he started filing his report.
Whatever.
Gathering up her things, including the dress sketches she'd been playing around with, Doc decided she didn't have any further reason to hang around. Not that she'd really had a good one before. "I'm done for the day, I'll see you later."
"Have a good evening," Dr. Phil said amiably, still focused on his computer.
For some reason she felt the overwhelming urge to stick out her tongue at him. But she didn't. Because she wasn't a child. Even if she was wearing a Peter Pan shirt that said "I'm so fly I never land."
******
As Brock was leaving the medical area—Cryus Peak was made up of a series of caves under a mountain, so everything was sorted by areas—a cute and perky blonde named Chrissy was walking by. She was one of the very friendly women in Steele's pack who wanted to do her best to help the Bunsons get over their trauma. And yes, he meant that in the plural—all three of them had enjoyed her company at one point or another. Chrissy was sweet, fun, and very enthusiastic, and also determinedly single with no interest in changing that any time soon.
"Hi Brock!" she chirped, batting her blue eyes at him. "Where are you headed?"
"Back to my rooms," he said gruffly. Chrissy didn't take offense at his abrupt answer; no one expected Brock to be talkative. Except maybe Doc.
"Would you like some company?" Chrissy asked, giving him a coy little smile that left him—unfortunately—unmoved.
"No thanks," he said, hoping being polite would take any sting out of his rejection. He just wasn't feeling it for some reason. Although another round in the bedroom would be fun, he just couldn't drum up any interest. Maybe he was just overly tired from his PT. That had to be it.
Chrissy just smiled, undaunted. "Okay, well I hope you have a nice night."
"You too." Normally he would have just walked on, but he felt a little bad so he made the effort to add a little bit of small talk.
"Oh I will." Giggling, she winked at him and skipped away.
Walking back to his room, Brock had to admit there were certain upsides to being a shifter. Granted, he hadn't exactly been at all experienced at sex and relationships when he and his siblings were kidnapped—he'd been too young to be anything but terrified of the idea of asking a girl out at the time—but he'd known what relationships were normally like. He'd known most girls weren't going to put themselves out there for sex or take rejection very well.
Shifter society was definitely different. Or who knew, maybe it was just Steele's pack. Although, things at Lakewood, where Brock and his brothers had been sent for further training, had been the same. Shifters were a lot more casual about sex and nudity than humans were.
Unless human society had changed a whole heck of a lot while he'd been in captivity, but from what he'd seen on television he doubted that.
It was one of the few upsides to being a shifter as far as he was concerned. So why had he turned Chrissy down? He frowned as he strode along the hallway, trying
to figure out why he wasn't feeling 'it.' Heck, he hadn't been with a woman since he'd been injured. It wasn't like he was lacking in offers either.
He would worry the injury had affected his libido, but he'd jerked off in the shower yesterday—with his good arm. Getting himself off had become his norm.
That was weird. He hadn't even realized it until now.
"Hey! Brock!" The sound of his older brother calling for him had Brock turning immediately. His bugaboo perked up at the sight of the person he considered their leader, no matter that Steele was the alpha of this pack.
Brady was several inches taller than Brock with dark brown hair. Because Brock’s hair was a dirty ash blond and his eyes were hazel, it weren't for their similar builds and facial features people might not even realize they were brothers. Their youngest brother, Brice, was like a midway point between the two of them, with brown hair streaked with blond, but he had also gotten their mom's blue eyes.
"What's up?" Brock asked as Brady caught up to him. Brady was wearing the uniform black shirt and pants all of Steele's pack did when they were working a security shift. With four out of five of the Bunsons still at Cryus Peak, not to mention Jesse and her brother Daniel, it was probably at the top of The Company's list of targets. They were small shifters made deadly using the genes of their larger, usually predatory shifter ancestors. It was doubtful The Company wanted to use them for anything good, and after the nearly successful attack during which Brock had been injured Steele had become even more fanatical about security.
Even though The Company knew where they were, Cryus Peak was such a fortress it made no sense to leave. If The Company wanted to get to the pack, they'd have to blow up the mountain to do it, which would kind of defeat the purpose since The Company was after people. The only way they’d even managed to get so close to recapturing the Bunsons had been because of a traitor. Which had royally pissed off everyone.
But things were pretty good now. Brock’s shoulder was healing, they now knew Eli’s evil older brother Aiden was some kind of boss within The Company—maybe even the boss, and Brady and Jesse had finally managed to get together.
Brady grinned at him, a slightly sappy grin that went along well with the slightly stunned expression he'd worn ever since Jesse had agreed to mate him. So they must be doing well, which was good. When Brock had heard Brady calling his name, for a moment he'd worried something had happened between them and Brady needed him for some brother time or something.
"How's the shoulder?" Brady asked, looking Brock up and down speculatively as they both resumed walking in the direction Brock had already been headed. Brady was probably on his way back from his shift, and his and Jesse's rooms weren't far from Brock's.
"Much better," Brock said lifting it a little.
After a moment, Brady rolled his eyes at Brock's lack of details. "When are you done with PT?"
"Dr. Phil said by the end of the week."
"Dr. Phil? I thought you were working with Doc."
Brock shrugged again, feeling a little uncomfortable. He definitely didn't want to admit to Brady that he'd been kind of mean to Doc at Brady's mating ceremony and hadn't actually talked to her since. Fortunately, it wasn't like Brady expected Brock to be full of explanations.
"Well we’re glad you're getting better," Brady said cheerfully. "Are you going to stay here once you're all healed or go back to Lakewood with Brice?"
All three brothers had initially been at Lakewood working with Eli Mansfield's team to hunt down The Company. There was both gratification and frustration in doing so. They'd managed to take out quite a few of The Company's research facilities, but somehow it seemed like there were always more. The last few times they'd raided one, the scientists and workers had already abandoned them, thanks to a traitor who had been feeding The Company information.
Brock had definitely intended to go back with Brice. Someone needed to watch out for their impulsive youngest brother. He didn't blame Brady for settling down in Cryus Peak—he'd fallen in love with Jesse, whose younger brother Daniel was still a teenager and also needed protection. Plus it was good to have someone watching over their sisters Bethany and Bailey, even if the women would insist they didn't need it.
For some reason, he was feeling a little more reluctant to do so now though.
Stay here. The deep, growling voice of his bugaboo almost startled Brock. The creature was normally even quieter than he was. Now it sounded almost wistful.
Covering up his confusion, Brock shrugged again. "Not sure."
"Yeah... benefits to both," Brady said, musing. He sounded a little wistful too, probably thinking about how there was a lot more action to be had at Lakewood. Giving himself a little shake as they turned the corner, heading down the corridor where both sets of their rooms were located, Brady focused back on Brock. "Want to come over for dinner tonight? Jesse's making salmon."
The bugaboo perked up and Brock could feel himself salivating a little. Jesse made amazing salmon. They came to a halt in front of Brock's door. "Sure."
"Great, see you at six," Brady said, clapping Brock on his good shoulder. "Do us all a favor though and take a shower first? You kinda stink."
Chuckling, Brady moved on down the hall towards his own set of rooms, where his mate would be waiting. Even though Brock didn't want a mate, he felt the oddest little sense of envy. Maybe he should have accepted Chrissy's offer... but even thinking about it now, he didn't really find it any more appealing than he had before.
After letting himself in his rooms, he lifted his arm and sniffed at the pit. He didn't smell that bad.
******
Doc was just trying to decide if she wanted to go all the way to the cafeteria to get food or if she wanted to make something out of what supplies she had in her kitchen when her phone dinged with an incoming text message. Both options sounded like effort she didn't really feel like making. She was a pretty indifferent cook at best, but at the same time the cafeteria was a bit of a hike from her rooms. Even her puma was feeling lazy.
Opening her phone, she saw the text had come from Jesse and she smiled. The two of them had become pretty good friends since the squirrel shifter had moved to Cryus Peak. They'd bonded over their mutual love of both Harry Potter and Disney, even if they each preferred a different one over the other.
What's up Doc? Wanna come over for dinner tonight? I'm making salmon!
Snorting at the opening line—which never got old to Jesse for some reason—it only took Doc a moment to make a decision. Jesse made really good salmon and her and Brady's home was less than half the distance to the cafeteria. Doc would neither have to walk all the way to the cafeteria nor make her own dinner.
Win-win. She quickly texted back.
I'm so down. What time? Can I bring anything?
A moment later her phone dinged again.
Just your lovely self at 6pm!
It was almost five now. Doc had just enough time to change out of her work clothes and make herself look a little more presentable. She was also pretty sure she had a bottle of wine somewhere that she could bring over. Showing up empty handed just never felt right to her; probably a leftover lesson from her mom.
A quick brush through of her hair and Doc clipped the light red strands back from her face to help hide the pony-tail bump. She splashed some water on her face and quickly put on a bit of makeup. Just enough to make her feel like she'd put in a little bit of effort. Kind of make up for the total lack of effort she was putting into dinner. Jeans and a t-shirt with a bunch of the Princesses dressed in Harry Potter robes with their corresponding houses—as a nod to Jesse's HP love—and she was good to go.
Oh, right, she almost forgot... on her way out the door she grabbed a bottle of white wine.
It took her less than five minutes to arrive at Brady and Jesse’s abode. When Brady answered the door there was practically an explosion of sound into the hallway. Shifter hearing was very acute so they were also really good at soundproofing most things. Obviou
sly Doc hadn't been the only person invited over for dinner; she could immediately pick out Bethany, Bailey, and Daniel's voices as well.
"Hey Doc! Glad you could make it, come on in," Brady said, his dark eyes sparkling.
"I brought wine." She thrust the bottle at him as he stepped back to let her through.
"Thanks." Taking it from her, he pointed into the suite. "Jesse and Steele are in the kitchen cooking, everyone else is in the living room."
That was pretty obvious since she could see the living room the moment she entered. Immediately her eyes were drawn to Brock, who looked up to meet her eyes, his perpetually grumpy expression on his face. Considering he was surrounded by his family, all of whom were having a good time watching Jesse's younger brother Daniel and Brock’s older sister Bethany loudly compete at Hungry, Hungry Hippos, Doc was starting to wonder if he just had RBF—Resting Bitch Face. Maybe he wasn't actually grumpy.
Cheer him up? Her puma asked with a purr.
Great, her cat had delusions of grandeur now. I don't think so.
"Hey Doc!" Bethany called out, without looking up from where she was viciously slamming the base of her poor hippo.
"Hey Doc!"
"Hi Doc!"
Everyone else's greetings blended together, although it didn't escape her notice that Brock didn't actually say hi. He did nod at her though.
She pretended not to see him. Petty, but she was still stinging a little from what he'd said at Brady and Jesse's mating celebration. Even the obvious interest of several males in Steele's pack, once she'd become more open and friendly with them, hadn't quite soothed the wound he'd created.
"Hello," she said to the room at large, giving them a general wave and heading straight to the kitchen.
"Hey hun!" Jesse said as Doc came in. She leaned over to give Doc a kind of armless shoulder hug as she chopped veggies. On the other side of her, Steele was stirring some kind of pasta dish in a pan.
"Hey Doc," he said, turning his head to give her a swift smile. The alpha had done a lot of lightening up since he'd mated Bethany Bunson and it wasn't unusual to see him with a smile on his face anymore. Either that or an expression of extreme exasperation from dealing with his energetic and pushy mate.