K Stewart: A Shot in the Dark

Not that I mind good-looking women staring at me, normally. Dr. Bridget was curvy in all the right places, even in the tailored suit she was wearing for the day. Funny how she looked so different here at her office, her dark hair all pulled back and tamed, than at my house with her hair in pigtails and wearing shorts and a smart-ass T-shirt. The two sides of Dr. Bridget.

“Are you having any more pain?” She jotted down some notes in my file as I hopped back up on the table.

“Nope. Everything seems to be fully functional.” Her hands were ice cold when she started groping my calf, and I jumped. “Geez, Bridge! Did you go juggle snowballs or something before coming in here?”

She smiled sweetly at me over the rims of her new glasses. “Iced them down just for you, Jesse dear.”

The scars on my calf were still nicely pink and hairless, circles the size of fifty-cent pieces adorning both sides where a crab-demon had stabbed me last January. I didn’t think that was a body-piercing fad that was going to catch on. Innocuous in appearance now, that wound had almost cost me my leg, the demon’s poison invading my body despite all medical intervention. Only my wife’s magic had kept me from having Stumpy as a nickname.

Of course, it was the torn muscle on the inside of that same leg that had landed me back in Dr. Bridget’s office. That particular injury was earned by falling on my ass on a wet floor (speaking of bruised dignity). Well, and the running around fighting hellhounds and dodging tornados after that hadn’t helped either.

But I’d been a good boy ever since, I promise! I’d given up walking with a cane (most of the time) only two months ago, and I’d been diligent with my physical therapy. I was hoping I’d get credit for time served.

I wasn’t sure what Dr. Bridget was looking for with the poking and prodding, but she found it. Or didn’t find it. Whichever one was the good one.

With a sigh, she stood up and leaned against the counter. “You know I’m not in favor of this trip, right?”

“You may have mentioned it once or a thousand times.” I put on my best begging eyes. Hey, it works on Mira. Sometimes. “C’mon, Doc, please? Pleeeeeeease?”

She tried real hard not to laugh, and finally managed to keep it to an exasperated chuckle. “You have no shame, do you?”

“None.”

“Yeah, I guess you can go. Just make sure you pay attention, and if it starts hurting, take it easy. Go get dressed.”

I gave a little “woo-hoo!” of celebration, and ducked into the tiny curtained alcove to get my pants back on. I expected to hear the door open and close as the good doctor left the room, and when that didn’t happen, I knew she wasn’t done with me. “Something on your mind, Bridge?”

“Mira says you’re still not sleeping well.”

“Why is it that I always seem to come up in conversation between you two?” Annoyance made the words a bit sharper than I’d meant. But dammit, why was my business everyone’s business? Deep breath, Jess. No reason to rip her head off, she’s just doing her job.

“She’s worried about you.” Even without seeing her, I could hear the frown in her voice. Part of it was the doctor in her, being irritated at a stubborn patient. Part of it was my wife’s best friend, being pissed at me for upsetting said wife. “Are those sleeping pills not helping?”

Fully clothed, I pulled the curtain aside so I could at least look at her while we were talking. “Wouldn’t know, I didn’t take them.”

She sighed again. “Jess-”

“No. Just, no. I’m not going to drug myself out of my gourd. It’s not that bad.” Truth was, I hated the fog the sleeping pills caused. I was still very aware that someone had tried to run me off the road last March. That person was still out there. I couldn’t afford to be anything less than alert.

Of course, the lack of sleep wasn’t helping that cause either. I always dreamed about my fights. It’s just the way my brain processes my bizarre excuse for a life. But in the past few months, the nightmares were getting worse. One of them was being particularly persistent, and when that one ripped and clawed its way through my head, there was no sleeping for the rest of the night. I called him the Yeti. It was almost four years ago that I’d faced him, and while he hadn’t killed me, I sure as hell hadn’t gotten out unscathed. There wasn’t a single night in the past month that I hadn’t woken up in a panic, flailing against something that wasn’t even there. In general, I was averaging about five hours a night. On a good night.

And doctor or not, it was none of her damn business. “Am I cleared for the trip?”

She eyed me for long moments, pursing her lips like she really wanted to say no, but eventually she nodded. “Yeah. Knock yourself out.” With one last scribble in my file, we were done.

I was bending to lace up my combat boots when she paused again. “Hey, Jesse?” There was a change in her voice. Hard to describe, but in my mind it always signaled her change from Dr. Bridget, to just plain Bridge. I looked up. “Thanks for taking Cam along. It’s been hard for him to meet folks here.”

This was the moment in those strained conversations where you either continued the argument, or let it go. I took a deep breath and opted to let it go. Part of me was absurdly proud of myself over that. I offered her a small smile, showing her I had no hard feelings, before turning back to my bootlaces. “He met you, didn’t he? How’d that happen?”

“Church.” That made me chuckle, though I carefully hid it. I was not surprised at all.

Finished with my boots, I stood up, flipping my hair out of my face. “Well, just remember, he does anything hinky and I’ll whup his ass. You just say the word.”

The doctor chuckled, and even blushed a little. “Thanks, Jess.” That even earned me a one-armed hug. Go me!

I followed her out to the front desk to do all the pertinent paperwork, signing my name with a flourish to celebrate my release from doctor’s care. I hadn’t had insurance for months, and while Dr. Bridget didn’t really expect me to pay full price, I felt guilty about shorting her any. I mean, this was her livelihood. Not her fault insurance companies didn’t cover demon slaying.

“Bridget!”

“Cam!” I looked up in time to see Cam-short-for-Cameron appear out of nowhere and sweep my doctor into a deep kiss. Quickly, I averted my eyes. Just… don’t wanna see stuff like that, y’know? After a suspiciously long time, I heard her giggle-actually giggle!-and assumed it was safe to look up again.

“I thought I’d see if you had time to go to lunch, since I’m here.” Mr. Romance. Ugh.

Bridget patted her dark hair back into place and straightened her shirt a little, blushing bright red. “Is Lisa done with you?”

The tall former priest nodded. “Clean bill of health. She says I should be able to get up and down the trail just fine.” Finally, someone remembered I was standing there. “Oh! Hey, Jesse!”

“Cameron.” I was polite. Civil. I even smiled. I just couldn’t bring myself to greet him with the same kind of enthusiasm he showed me. I’m sure it was some kind of psychobabble alpha male BS, but… I still wasn’t sold on Mr. Not-a-Priest. Not yet.

He looked my T-shirt over and chuckled. “TRUST ME, I’M A JEDI, hmm?”

“These are not the droids you’re looking for.” Look, I could joke, see? “You ready for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, looks like it. Marty said that he had some paintball equipment I could borrow. I’ve never played before, so I’m really looking forward to it.” His dimples showed when he grinned. Could he look any more preppy?

“We’re gonna head out real early in the morning, so be ready when we swing by.”