"You two have sparred together?" Dr. Clark asked, instantly interested, knowing that my training had always been an issue for me, that it was a huge source of insecurity.
"Yeah, we started about a week ago," I told her.
"And how is that going?"
"Well, Doc," Finch said, shaking his head. "It is a good thing I don't mind my body as bruised as my ego. Because this woman is a beast in a ring."
"Really?" Dr. Clark asked, moving her gaze to me.
Because we both knew this was a big deal.
That 'the flinch' was going away.
That I had been able to go full-contact with a male sparring partner without shutting down, without spiraling.
"We have. I actually accidentally gave him a black eye the first day," I told her, wincing at the memory.
See, I liked knowing I could defend myself, but I had a problem with knowing I hurt someone I cared about.
"It's clearly my fault," Finch said, tsking his tongue. "I have such a punchable face," he said, getting a small smile out of my doctor.
"I think you two are on a good path," she decided a few minutes later.
"You hear that, darling? Your shrink approves of me."
"I don't think she said that."
"Really? Because that's what I heard, angel."
"Then you need to get your hearing checked," I told him, smiling.
And when I looked over at Dr. Clark, she was smiling too, eyes warm.
She was right.
We were on a good path.
And I couldn't wait to see where it led.Finch - 6 WeeksI heard the gravel crunching on the driveway. Curious, I moved outside, not expecting anyone. Chris had told me earlier that she was out of town for the afternoon. And since Hailstorm business was Hailstorm business, and I knew I couldn't question her about it, I just told her we'd order in when she got back.
But it was her very practical SUV pulling up the driveway, several hours before I expected her.
"What's up, princess?" I asked when she cut the engine, climbed out, her eyes a little panicked. "What happened?"
"I did something," she declared, going around toward the way back.
"Is there a body or something in there?" I asked, a little hurt she would take a road trip without me.
"A body? You'd think I'd bring a body here? Here, where it would trace right back to the both of us?" she demanded, rolling her eyes.
Leave it to my girl to be more offended that I thought she might be careless in discarding of remains than me accusing her of killing someone.
"Alright. then what's in the trunk, doll? You look freaked."
"Well, see, I owed Malcolm a present. He was really good when we went down to Louisiana. I wanted to get him something nice. And I went to pick them up today."
"Them?" I asked, brows drawing together.
"Yes, them," she told me, nodding, reaching for the lift on the hatch. "He's always wanted English Mastiff puppies. He grew up with Great Danes, but he always wanted something more solid. So, I thought it would be a nice gift. Especially now that he has the room for them. But there was a problem," she said, giving me sad eyes.
"What kind of problem, darling?"
To that, she took a deep breath, reaching into the trunk, coming back with one giant English Mastiff puppy full of wrinkles. "This one was just sitting there. Staring at me. With a face like this," she said, face twisting into the most pathetic look she could muster. "And I just... I couldn't leave him there all alone with his friends gone. I know we've never talked about animals. I've honestly never even given any animals thought before. I mean I always wanted a dog growing up, but we could never have one. And then work was so crazy. And I knew I didn't have time for a dog. But now..."
Now she had me: a self-proclaimed ambitious lazy-ass who could work from home, who had plenty of time for taking care of a puppy.
"Show me the face again," I demanded, watching as she shot it at me, eyes even sadder then before while the goofy puppy just sat there with its tongue hanging out.
"Well, there was really no way to say no to a face like that, was there?"
"Exactly. I mean, I didn't want to be presumptuous. I know you have a life too. I should have called and spoken to you about it. I don't even know if you like dogs. Or if you're allergic."
"I'm not allergic. And my grandfather had at least a dozen dogs across my childhood. I've always been a fan, just been moving around too much to get one. Seems like I found my place now, though. Good time to get a dog."
"Really?" she asked, trying to hold back her excitement.
"Really. Did you pick out a name already?"
"I have a list."