Chapter 8 Doc Meets Marcie
DOC MEETS MARCIE
Marcie stared at Doc with her huge, wide eyes.
“Hi,” Doc said, giving a small wave. His own blue eyes were crinkled. Ottis could tell he was smiling behind his scarf, but Marcie hadn’t grown up around people who hid half their faces.
She continued to watch the alpha, and eventually Doc sighed.
Ottis didn’t have the heart to say that, maybe, if Doc let her see his bare face, Marcie might be more comfortable around him. He wasn’t actually sure how Marcie would react. With how Doc was keeping his distance respectfully, it would be awful if Marcie took one look at him and started bawling.
So, change of subject.
“We’ll need baby supplies if we’re going to be out for a while,” Ottis said. “Diapers, some snacks, some toys. Maybe some baby wipes too.”
“Want to hit up a department store first? We’ll get everything Marcie needs from there, and maybe hit up the mall if you can’t find any clothes you like.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Ottis cheered up. “I’ll find a way to pay you back—”
Doc made a dismissive noise and waved Ottis off. “No. I’m your kidnapper. I’m providing everything you need.”
“You’re probably the best kidnapper ever,” Ottis said, secretly relieved. He had a tiny pile of savings back home, but it would all disappear quickly if he wasn’t careful.
Doc’s eyes crinkled. He ushered Ottis into the backseat of a powder blue SUV, then squeezed into the space next to Ottis. Marcie was strapped into Ottis’ chest carrier, looking around curiously.
It felt strange, sitting in this enclosed space with Doc. Feeling the warm line of Doc’s thigh against his own. Just yesterday, Ottis had been daydreaming about escaping from his pack, and today, he was as far from it as he could be.
Hijinks slid behind the wheel and drove them onto the street, humming cheerfully.
When Ottis looked down, he found Marcie watching Doc again. Then she reached out for Doc—no, for his scarf, because it was the most colorful thing in the car.
“Ah,” Doc said awkwardly.
“Marcie!” Ottis yelped, gently redirecting Marcie’s hand away from the scarf. She struggled, trying to grab the scarf again. Then she scrunched up her face when she couldn’t.
There was no polite way to tell your kidnapper that your baby wanted the one thing he used to keep his ego intact.
It must’ve shown on Ottis’ face, because Doc reached into the pocket behind the front passenger seat, pulling out two fresh medical masks. He put them on behind his scarf, then unwound the scarf and handed it to Marcie.
Marcie eagerly curled her little fingers into the scarf, giving a happy little burble and kicking her feet.
“Thanks,” Ottis said, cringing but grateful. “I didn’t know people keep masks in their cars.”
“These come in handy. Sometimes I go on rescue missions with my friends, and my masks get torn up.”
Scars or not, how was an alpha like that still single? Doc went on rescue missions. He was taking Ottis and Marcie out to buy clothes for them. And he had given up his emotional support scarf just because Marcie wanted it.
He’s too good to be true, Ottis told himself. I can’t fall in love with him. He has to have a flaw somewhere.
“Thank you,” he said aloud, feeling like the words weren’t enough.
Doc smiled. “You’re welcome.”
They pulled up at a department store that was starting to get busy now that it was mid-morning.
“I have to reapply the scent suppressant,” Ottis said as Doc was unbuckling his seat belt. “Marcie doesn’t like it. Could you... hold her while I spray myself down?”
Doc’s eyes grew round. He nodded and stepped out of the car, holding out his arms. “I’ll keep her out of spraying range.”
“Thanks.” Ottis unstrapped Marcie from her chest carrier and carefully handed her over, watching the way Doc moved his huge hands to support her weight. Marcie was tiny in his arms.
And Doc looked like a natural dad, smiling down at Marcie, turning her around to cradle her against his chest. Of course he knew how to hold babies; he was a doctor.
Ottis tried not to stare. He sprayed the scent suppressant all over himself, before getting out of the car and spraying his ass too. Marcie sneezed.
“There. Now I’m invisible from the paw patrol,” Ottis said dryly.
Doc chuckled. “Your pack cares about you.”
“They can care about me from a distance. Or maybe they can find their own omegas to care about,” Ottis grumbled. “I don’t need protection.”
Well, not from that many alphas, anyway.
Doc raised an eyebrow at the skip in Ottis’ pulse, but he didn’t comment on it. He stepped closer to hand Marcie back. Marcie had gone quiet in Doc’s arms, her limbs wrapped around Doc’s lumpy scarf.
“She took to you fast,” Ottis said, surprised.
“Maybe she got used to the scent on the scarf,” Doc said, sounding pleased.
Ottis wondered what it meant, that Marcie made a soft sound of protest when he took her back from Doc.
They made their way through the parking lot, Ottis trying to disguise his limp so they wouldn’t draw attention. Unusual movements made people stare, and he always tried to blend in if he could.
That was especially important right now.
At the front of the store, several shopping carts were chasing each other around the planters.
There was magic in metals. It began as wisps of energy in metal ores, growing concentrated as the ores were refined.
Eventually, the purified metals were turned into parts, and the parts were combined to form objects.
When the metal parts of an object moved, their magic interacted, turning the objects sentient.
It was how locks could smile, faucets could bite, and shopping carts frolicked in the parking lots.
Ottis slowed down when he spotted a cart that was limping along, one of its wheels bent out of shape. Just like me. But unlike Ottis, the cart could be easily fixed. When the cart noticed him, it turned, squeaking one wheel in question.
Ottis swallowed and peeked at Doc. “I know you’re a people doctor, but... do you think you could...”
“Bend its wheel back? I’ll see what I can do.”
Doc knelt down right there in the parking lot, placing one hand on the side of the cart to soothe it. “Hey. I’m going to try and fix your wheel, so I’ll need you to stay still for me. Don’t move, alright? This shouldn’t hurt.”
The cart held itself still, lifting its flap as though it was curious. Doc tipped the cart up on two wheels and carefully gripped its bum wheel. Slowly, he bent the metal back into shape, his biceps straining against his sleeves.
“Wow,” Ottis blurted before he could think. “You would burst a condom like that.”
Doc paused and glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.
Ottis hurriedly thought back to what he had said. Then he was horrified. “No, ignore that! I meant to say you’re straining so hard, your biceps would rip your shirt, at the same time your, uh, sausage would rip its casing.”
No, no, no, that was just making it worse.
His face burning, Ottis waved his hands, trying to make his words go away. “I meant that your body parts would swell like melons, they’re so pregnant.”
“I appreciate the descriptions,” Doc said, sounding amused.
Ottis hid his face, despairing. Why was he never smooth about these things? “I should’ve just said you belong in a porn movie, that would make everything easier. But who says that to their kidn—Uh, Their new friend?”
He stopped moaning when Doc snorted, peeking through a crack in his fingers.
“You might want to avoid mentioning that contract, if you have people looking for you,” Doc murmured. “Sharp ears, no?”
“Right. You’re my totally non-suspicious friend with the big bulge and you still smell like my, uh, special fluids.”
Doc frowned. “Do I? We showered twice.”
They had taken turns to shower, probably because Doc wanted to keep his face hidden. Even so, Ottis secretly liked that Doc still smelled like him.
“You do, a little,” Ottis admitted. “Very faintly.”
“Hmm. Spray some of that suppressant on me after I’ve washed my hands.”
Doc continued to bend the cart’s wheel back into shape. He looked smoking hot, his muscular arms and shoulders straining behind the thin fabric of his shirt.
Finally, he released the cart and patted it again. “There. Try moving around now.”
The cart rolled back and forth, carefully testing its repaired wheel. When it realized that it was fixed, it squeaked excitedly, bumping against Doc. Doc’s eyes crinkled.
“Wow,” Ottis said. “You’re not just a butt whisperer. You’re a cart whisperer too. They even rhyme.”
“Really?” Doc huffed.
“I would call you the Butt-Cart Probe Master, butt that would be taking things too far,” Ottis said. And immediately groaned.
In the distance, Hijinks howled with glee.
“Jinks, whatever you have in mind, please don’t,” Doc muttered.
“Too late,” the butler cackled.
Doc sighed.
“Here,” Ottis said, feeling sorry for the alpha. He stuck out his hand. “Do you need a hand up? We should get moving before Hijinks gets any more ideas.”
“Good thinking.” Doc stared at Ottis’ hand for a long moment, before sighing. “I need to wash my hands, after grabbing the cart’s wheels. But your offer is very appreciated.”
“Maybe you should get on your knees some other time then,” Ottis said. And clapped his hands over his mouth. “Oh gods. There’s nothing in the world bigger than my humiliation right now.”
Doc laughed, but the look in his eyes was decidedly hungrier.
Ottis squirmed, belatedly remembering that the plug was still inside him. Don’t think about that right now!
He followed Doc into the department store, the cart squeaking its wheels as it followed them inside. Doc stopped in front of the restrooms. “Wait for me here? I won’t be longer than a minute.” He held Ottis’ gaze until Ottis nodded. “Good omega.”
That made Ottis warm all over.
While waiting, Ottis rocked Marcie and made her giggle. He listened to the sounds of water splashing, perking up when Doc stepped out of the alpha restroom smelling like hand soap.
“Which parts of me smell like you?” Doc asked.