Work Text:
"Here!" Elaine declared happily, approximately five seconds after Dr. Best had walked into the office, stopping him in his tracks.
She handed him something soft, wrapped in brown butcher paper.
In a moment that made him feel as though he’d forgotten his lines (in a play he hadn’t realized he was in), it occurred to him it was a gift. Mercifully, no patients were in yet, but the spotlight was still on him, shining directly into his eyes, as Elaine looked on expectantly for an answer.
"Everything okay?" she said after a few seconds passed with no answer or movement.
While he still had no script, the path of least resistance was obvious. The paper tore easily; A maroon crewneck sweater was revealed. In white collegiate letters, the phrase 'Bear with Me' was spelled out on it, with a small embroidered patch of the aforementioned bear beneath.
Briefly, he imagined actually wearing it out and about. Knowing the people in Port Wenn, in some backwards way, it would likely make them respect him more. But that seemed such a high, high price to pay in a place where the cost of living was already nothing to scoff at.
Possibilities: lecture on why this was inappropriate, find a polite excuse to hand it back to her, or drop not dead, feigning that the color was too reminiscent of blood. However, Elaine was doing him one hell of a favor keeping his secret. Anyway, if Aunt Sarah somehow found out through the grapevine that he still couldn't play nice with the locals, not even his assistant, he was in for another chat where she'd try and nudge him in a more benevolent direction. She was persuasive, and Best didn't really appreciate being forced to admit to himself that he could be wrong sometimes. Besides, Teddy was sitting on Elaine's desk and there was something trusting in his black, unblinking eyes, something Best didn't love the thought of crushing.
Yikes. The town's sentimentality might've finally rubbed off on him.
"It's great, thanks," he said quickly, hoping this was a convincing performance.
"Yay!" She did a small jump that Best thought was quite unnecessary. "You should wear it today."
"No!"
“Everyone would love it. Just saying.”
This precious item was destined for a grander existence: it was to be used when he was home alone, in the dark, and it was too cold.
He made his way to the examination room, where the pretense of getting set up for the day would excuse him from further conversation.
“Just be glad I didn’t film that!” she called back.
“Yes, that is an improvement…”
In between pretending to check they still had cotton swabs and tongue depressors, he paused to feel the inside of the sweater and, hard as it was to say, it was very soft.
“That is so sweet,” Aunt Sarah fawned over dinner that night.
“In an eccentric way,” he conceded, grudgingly.