Bad Case of Loving You

Blake was waiting outside my office at the end of the following day, and I regretted letting him find out where it was so easily. I preferred the students to find it by themselves; it was a good test of initiative to make them locate it through the central hospital directory. Not to mention courage when it came to getting past the guard dog, who was smiling fondly at Blake from behind her tacky magazine. He must have charmed her somehow. I was impressed.

I opened the door, flopped into my chair, and looked expectantly up at him. He sat down and shuffled his index cards nervously.

"Yes?" I said.

"I want to redo my presentation."

"I'm not going to change your mark."

"That's not... I just want to get it right," he explained.

"OK, I'm listening, but I reserve the right to stop you if it's crap," I said. "I'm not being paid enough to sit through presentation reruns."

I didn't have to stop him. He did it cold, no notes, and it was solid and concise. Still unspeakably dull, but renal insufficiency was like that. I stood up and held out my hand to him.

He looked confused as he stood and took my hand. I shook it. "Congratulations. You're not a moron. Keep going like that and you'll restore my faith in humanity."

He coloured a little and blinked, his eyelashes tiny fans against his skin, then smiled at me. This must have been what he had done to get past The Secretary From Hell. Fuck, but he was gorgeous, and I let go of his hand before it all became far too embarrassing.

"Get out of here," I said, but my voice wasn't the least bit grouchy.