It had been a while since I had been to the gynecologist for a check-up. Of course, I didn't think I necessarily needed one since I was perfectly healthy, but I decided that it was probably best to go just in case. The wait wasn't horrible, and I felt like I looked incredibly overdressed as I sat in the waiting room filling out sheets of paper. Then again, I was sure most of these people didn't have to rush to work. Most of them looked like housewives, which, I didn't think anything was wrong with. I could just tell I was the only one who was probably going to work after I was finished here.

By the time they called my name, it was after ten. I was a little bit anxious that this was taking so long, but Mr. Watson had explained to me that I could take however long I needed in order to make sure I was in good health. It was always so incredibly polite of him, and I couldn't get over how lovely he was to be so understanding.

"Magdalina Holmes, right?" the woman walking me back asked.

"That's me."

"Perfect. Just go ahead and step on the scale for me."

She got my weight and height, my eyes widening when I realized I was five foot three. I was shorter than I had expected, or even thought. Of course, I figured that maybe I had tried my hardest to be taller when I was younger and that was why I had the incorrect height. However, the idea that I was shorter than anticipated, even by only an inch, was really throwing me.

"Just a few quick questions," the woman said to me as we began walking to a room. "To start, what's your birthday?"

"April sixteenth, of sixty-six," I told her. "I thought I put that on the sheet."

"You did," she nodded. "I just have to double check it."

I nodded. We walked into the room, the nurse telling me I could sit on the chair. Sitting down, I watched as she glanced over the paperwork, seeming to think over a few things before she continued.

"You said you're not sexually active, is that correct?"

"I, um ... haven't had sex if that's what that means. I don't remember what they said about it the last time."

"Oh, honey, it means more than that," the nurse smiled, my face heating up. "I'm going to write that you aren't, so the doctor is sure to be gentle."

It eased some of my nerves. After all, the last thing I wanted was what happened last time where the doctor had been rather aggressive and I had to say it was not comfortable in the slightest. The nurse asked a few more questions before she left me to change into the silly little gown. I absolutely hated how exposed I felt, especially since it was absolutely freezing in the room.

A while later, the doctor came in. She smiled at me, but I hated it when I watched her put on the gloves. This was incredibly intrusive, and while sometimes I didn't mind certain people being all in my business, this type of stranger was not the one I wanted anywhere near me.

"Maggie!" Dr. Grant grinned.

"Hi," I greeted.

"It's been a while."

"I know," I nodded. "I got busy with life and school."

"That makes sense. What brought you in today?"

"I live in the area now for the summer. I work at, um, Dawn FM right now."

"You work there?" she asked quickly. "That is so exciting! Tell me all about it while you lay back on the table."

I did not like the idea, but I gave in, deciding that the quicker I did, the quicker I would get this all over with. It didn't take long for the uncomfortable poking and prodding to begin, but I tried my best to tell her about my job and focus on that instead of what was actually going on.

"So, you must know that guy that does the crime segment then, right?" she asked.

"I'm actually friends with him, yeah," I nodded.

"No way. Is he cute? I have to know."

"He's handsome. Of course he has a girlfriend though."

"Oh boo," she stated. "This might be uncomfortable just hold on for one moment."

What she was doing was more than just a little bit uncomfortable, but I just squeezed my eyes shut and held my hands together tightly. It only lasted a few moments before the discomfort stopped, my Doctor doing a few more things before she set me back into a proper position.

"You did lovely. I have some women who curse and scream at me."

"That's great to hear," I laughed.

"Yeah, it is. Anyway, you're not having sex is what my nurse said. How are your periods? Regular? Irregular? Painful? What's the flow?"

She was asking me a lot of questions at once as she threw the gloves away and washed her hands for a while. I thought about my answers. I felt like it was pretty regular for the most part. When it came around, I never thought it had been a long or short time.

"I think they're pretty regular and my flow could be less, but I just figured it was normal. As for pain, there are some days where it is perfectly fine, and others where I start crying because I am in so much pain."

"Oh goodness," she quickly stated, making a note. "I can give you a contraceptive. It should ease some of those pains and, if we are lucky, give you a lighter flow."

"I thought that was just for if I wanted to have unprotected sex."

She laughed. "Oh please, that's just what I tell men if they're in here with their wives so they agree. When I ask the husband to leave for a brief time, I tell the wives about the benefits for her. But, as a doctor, I would never suggest you have unprotected sex. However, if you were to, you would be better protected this way."

"Oh. Um, so you recommend it for period pain?"

"Absolutely!"

"Can you see if my insurance will cover it first? If I have to pay about five dollars, that should be fine, but—"

"Don't be silly. I'll have the first few months covered to see if you even react okay to it. Just give us a call if you have any problems at all, okay? Good to see you, Maggie!"

I said goodbye before she left me alone to get changed. It didn't take that long, but I found myself looking in the mirror by the door, making sure that I looked proper. I didn't want to bustle into work as if I had just had a doctor's appointment. Sitting in a chair by the door, I watched as the nurse came back in to hand me a few papers before she directed me out to where I would pay. However, when I handed my paperwork to the woman, she shook her head.

"No worries. It's covered. Would you like to pick up your medicine from Richard's Pharmaceuticals?"

"That should work."

"Lovely. They'll tell you everything you need to know about it when you pick it up. Have a great afternoon."

I thanked her, heading out of the office. It was a little warm out today, but thankfully my walk from the doctor's office to the station wasn't that horrible. By the time I made it there, it was around noon. I greeted Grenadine at her desk, the woman offering me a chocolate chip cookie. Taking one, she asked how my day had been so far.

"Oh. As good as any day can go when it starts with an appointment."

"This is fair. I hope it went well."

"It was fine," I nodded. "Thank you. How was your day so far?"

"Pretty easy. I haven't done much. Mr. Watson does wish to see you, though."

I nodded, thanking her for the information before I made it over to my boss' office. Knocking on the door, he said I could come in, Mr. Watson sitting at his desk with glasses on as he was reading. He was also marking the page that he was reading, leaving me to sit down in one of the chairs in front of him quickly.

"Sorry, I just wanted to finish this page. Anyway, I got the information for the grant. It arrived in the mail this morning, and I know you get this stuff done pretty quickly."

"I do. But yes, I would be happy to take it. Hopefully we get it!"

"Oh, I have no doubt in you," he assured. "How was your doctor's visit this morning?"

"It went fine. I'm healthy from what I could tell. I am shorter than I thought though, so that was a bit disheartening."

"Nothing like a short woman getting things done," he laughed. "You have a lot of confidence and fire behind you, I think your height can play into that."

It was kind of him to say. "Thank you so much. Oh, also, did you ever figure out if that party was really going to happen?"

"Right! Yes! I think there is a card in your office about it."

"Perfect. I can bring someone, right?"

"Of course, you can. You'll finally get to meet my wife. I tell her about your grant writing and she seems pretty impressed with you. I'm sure she has some choice words to say about me discussing another woman with her, but if you bring someone maybe she'll get off my tail about it."

The thought of his wife thinking that anything was going on between us was kind of funny, but I also thought it was a little bit embarrassing as well. Shrugging, I told him that he should assure his wife she had nothing to worry about. After that, I took the papers for the grant work from Mr. Watson, taking them up the stairs. It was weird passing by the glass and seeing no one in the studio, but I figured I would pass by the office upstairs and see Mr. Beck.

As I climbed the stairs, I did in fact see him. He was busy talking and I wasn't that friendly with him, but I still sent a wave when he glanced up. Mr. Beck did the same back, leaving me to walk into my office. I knew I was going to just set my stuff down since I wanted to work in the library where there were more resources for me there. Setting my bag down, I noticed the card, deciding I would open it later since I was so eager to get to work. Taking my blazer off, I placed it on the seat, making sure I had everything before I headed to the library. Or, I started to head there when I realized I wanted some coffee so I made a quick pit stop in the break room before I fully made it to the library.

Sitting down in my usual seat, I got to work, making little notes across the information packets. Who was the grant for? What did the company stand for? What would we do with the money? When was the application due? There were a lot of things I needed to know and understand before I even began processing how I would write this up. And, thankfully with all of the tools that were at my fingertips here, it was easy to get started in finding content for what I wanted in the application.

"Hey," I heard, the voice unfamiliar.

"Um, hi," I greeted, turning around to see Mr. Beck.

"I'm on a twenty minute intermission. I know I met you very briefly when you first started, but I never got to talk to you. I hear you're the girl doing the newsletter."

"That is me," I nodded. "I'm working on a grant application right now, though."

He nodded, taking a seat beside me. I thought it was odd. We had barely ever spoken, and now he wanted to speak to me? Of course, our paths usually didn't cross because of the time I was normally here in the morning, but it still struck me as somewhat odd.

"Well, I was just wondering if you could try and encourage Watson to let me do a couple song requests during the three hours I'm on, sweets," he said, his voice holding a tone that I wasn't so certain about. "I just hate when I have to listen to easy listening the entire time. Plus, I think it would get the viewers more involved."

"I can ask him. Maybe I'll bring it up for a newsletter idea."

"Perfect."

"Yeah," I nodded. "I have to—"

"I ordered lunch if you'd like some," he tried.

"Oh, I'm okay. I had an appointment before work so I got food before I came in."

It was a lie. Goodness, was it a lie and I would have to pray for my sins later, but I really didn't want to hang out with him anymore. There was something off about him. We had never spoken, but he was very suddenly asking if I wanted to eat lunch with him? I didn't like it, and I certainly had no intentions of making it seem like I did.

"Are you sure? I could even order you something if you'd like that better."

"I ate," I smiled, trying to be as polite as possible. "Thank you so much, though."

"Yeah, of course. I'll let you get back to it," he stated, beginning to walk away before he stopped. "Oh, and one more thing. Is it true? I hear they all look like you."

It made me even more uncomfortable than I could explain to any single person. My skin was crawling, I felt like I had just seen a ghost, and my heart was thudding in my chest with the words he had spoken to me. Why would he ask me that? I wanted to know what would possess a man to say those words to me. Staring at him, he looked like he was awaiting a response, my expression clearly not enough to get him to move on.

"So?" he tried.

"Yeah, it's true," I scoffed. "Why?"

"Just a little weird isn't it?" he questioned before continuing. "My wife, well, ex-wife, has dark hair and dark eyes like you. Maybe she'll be next. Anyway, enjoy your day, sweets."

And just like that, he walked off, whistling as he went. I was still in utter shock, not understanding how one person could say such despicable things to me. I couldn't get the terrible gut feeling to leave, and I wanted to know why he had tried to be so pushy with me. It wasn't like we had spoken much before, but now he was asking if I wanted to have lunch with him and if I looked like the victims? It was just ... weird.

Once my mind had finally cleared, I began writing again. Of course, I probably spent about thirty minutes working before I realized I was a little chilly. Heading to my office, I grabbed my jacket off of my chair. I remembered that I needed to ask Harry to tell me how the whole mail thing was going to go since he was supposed to pick up his first collection of letters today after work.

Knocking on the door, I turned the handle, quickly walking in the way that I normally did if I had a question for him and he was in his office. It was a routine at this point. If he wasn't walking into my office, I was walking into his. Though, it was very obvious that this was a very bad time before I could even think about turning around. Cherry was on his lap, and while I couldn't see much because of the desk, she was definitely shirtless, my eyes wide as Harry cleared his throat and glanced around her.

"Oh, fuck," he quickly said, his eyes widening slightly when he noticed it was me standing in the doorway. "Shit, uh, Magdalina."

"Hi, Maggie!" Cherry stated when she glanced over her shoulder.

I was frozen in my spot. If I thought the first half of the day had gone oddly, I was continuing a running streak of weird things. Blinking several times, I wanted to leave, I wanted to pick my feet up and walk right out of this office, but I was stuck in the room, standing perfectly still. It was embarrassing, but I didn't even know what was wrong with me. Why couldn't I move? I felt genuinely glued to the spot, staring at both of them. Cherry, still, was very obviously naked. Yet Harry was sitting there with a button-down on. I wanted to tear my eyes away from them, but I couldn't. What was wrong with me?

"Well," Harry stated, my eyes meeting his. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to leave?"

"I'm okay with either," Cherry told me. "Actually, you could join us."

"Cheryl," he scoffed, giving her a dirty look as he grabbed her face the way he had with me before. "No."

"What?" she laughed, pulling his hand away from her face without any trouble. "It isn't like you dislike people watching. Plus, what's wrong with a third?"

"Sorry," I murmured before hastily leaving.

I slammed the door shut behind me, feeling overly anxious now. I knew Harry had walked in on me doing some choice things in the past, but there was something so embarrassing about seeing him like that. Not to mention that Cherry was probably fully naked and I felt incredibly wrong knowing I had invaded her personal space. Of course, I knew that Harry and Cherry usually hooked up in Harry's office, but I really didn't think that I would ever walk in on them. Plus, I could normally hear them going at it, and this time I didn't.

Trying to rid my mind of what had happened, I sat back down at the library, wishing I could just soak my eyes in acid or something. It would feel better than the awkward embarrassment I had right now. Breathing deeply, I found myself focusing back on the grant writing. It was a pretty decent distraction, especially since I had so much I had to do for it. Of course, this one wasn't due for another two weeks, but I liked completing the applications quickly. It allowed Mr. Watson to have plenty of time to look over the documents I would write up, and it also allowed us to submit early, putting us in a great position.

By the time it was three, I felt pretty confident about the start I had on my grant application. It was further than I normally would get in a day, but I blamed it on the fact that I wanted this to be the only thing on my mind. Re-reading over my work, I felt like it was actually pretty good this time around. Usually my first drafts could use some attention, but this one wasn't too shabby. Making notes here and there about things I would want to dive into more, I was about to get up to look for another book when I heard someone clear their voice behind me. Continuing to stare down at my paperwork for a moment, I jumped slightly when they pulled the chair out from beside me, taking a seat.

"Doll, let me—"

"I'm good," I told him, quickly getting up out of my seat and grabbing my papers. "I'm actually pretty busy. Maybe another time."

He looked confused when I quickly pushed my chair in, the papers in my arms as I rushed toward the bookshelves. I picked a random aisle to turn down, quickly walking all the way to the end and then walking in between the bookshelves. I hoped that I would be able to get away from him, turning down another one. It happened to be the aisle that I needed, my fingers brushing over the spines of the books until I found the book that I needed.

"Let me talk to you," I heard a voice say from my left.

"No, I'm fine," I assured him, pulling the book that I needed off of the shelf.

"Magdalina," he stated, his voice harsh now. "What the fuck is your issue?"

"Don't get snappy at me," I told him. "You didn't answer the door when I knocked."

"To start, I didn't hear you because I was rather occupied, you know, with my girlfriend. You also probably didn't even give me enough time to answer if you knocked and walked in like you normally do."

"Whatever."

"You're mad," he stated.

"I'm not."

"You look pissed, doll."

I was glaring at him so I was sure I looked mad. What did I have to be angry about though? Nothing. There was nothing to be angry about. And yet I felt like I was irritated with the entire situation that was going on. My eyes were focused on his face, burning into his skin. Though my gaze slowly traveled down to his unbuttoned shirt that was beneath his vest, my breathing faltering slightly when I noticed three dark hickeys ranging his neck. I had no idea who even enjoyed having those, knowing that I hated when my ex would do that to me. I felt like they were incredibly unprofessional, and yet, I couldn't stop the images that were burned in my brain.

Why was I so bothered about walking in on him? It wasn't like he hadn't walked in on me before. If anything, he had done exactly that and played a rather cool character. Sure, I didn't know what he had said to the guy I had been on my knees for, but Harry had done something other than standing there like a complete idiot the way that I had. I wanted to know what the issue was this time? But every time the image of him and Cherry played in my mind, I was even more irritated at the thoughts. Continuing to give him a dirty look, I sighed loudly, shaking my head.

"I had to go to the stupid gynecologist to start this whole day off," I began. "Mr. Beck was being weird and kept asking if I wanted to eat with him. I don't think I have even talked to the guy since I first started here. Then, I just saw you and your girlfriend fucking. If I wanted to be pissed, I would be allowed to be pissed. Again, that would be if I wanted to be. I'm not pissed, though."

"Sure," he nodded. "Of course you're not."

"Harry, I swear I will—"

"Not do anything to me," he stated, and I realized now he had me cornered up against the shelving. "What do we say I do a little donut run? It'll make you feel better, yeah?"

He reached forward to touch my face, but I shifted quickly, not wishing for him to touch me. I had obviously confused him, Harry raising an eyebrow before his hand slowly dropped to his side. I couldn't get him and Cherry out of my mind, and it was awful. I did not want that image plastered in my head, but there it was, replaying over and over again. The way he looked at me, the way she clung to him when she realized I had opened the door, then both of them were looking at me. I sighed, groaning at the image intruding my own thoughts.

"What happened at your doctor's appointment?" he asked.

"Why are you in my business? It isn't anything you need to know about. If you'll excuse me, I have things to do."

"Listen," he started. "I know that you catching us was probably awkward, but—"

"Bye," I told him.

I took the book in my arms with me, hurrying to try and escape the library. I didn't want to listen to him talk anymore. If anything, I would have preferred the two of us just not talk to each other for the rest of the day. It would make this so much better, and I could maybe even forget what was floating into my mind yet again; the thoughts of walking in on him and his girlfriend a constant that I wished to forget.

"Mags," Harry tried when I stopped to grab a pen and some scratch paper I had left on the table.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"You're being impossible!"

Rolling my eyes, I genuinely didn't care. The last thing I was worried about was giving him a hard time. Was I? Sure. Did it matter? No. After I was certain I had everything, I started to head to my office. However, as I passed Harry's office, the door was open, my eyes widening when I saw Cherry sitting in his chair with a bra on now. It was more clothing than she had earlier, but it was still awkward. Of course, I knew that most of her body had been hidden by the desk, but I simply didn't like feeling embarrassed after seeing her like that.

"Magdalina!" Harry called.

"I told you to leave me alone," I griped.

"Let me just—"

"I will not say it again. For the rest of the day I do not want to speak with you. Do I make myself clear?"

He was standing near me, his eyes searching mine. I could tell he was incredibly confused, and he had a reason to be. I mean, I was even surprised I was speaking to him the way that I was. He swallowed hard, brushing his hair back out of his face for a moment. It was obvious we were both confused, Harry glancing over his shoulder before he glanced down at me.

"I'll leave a donut by your door," he stated quietly.

"Screw off."

"Oh, doll, I already did."

I had never wanted to slap someone so badly in my entire life, Lord forgive me. Shaking my head, I walked into my office, quickly setting my papers down on the table by the door. Harry was in the room now, a groan leaving my lips as he shut the door behind him. Without thinking, I found myself pressing my hands against his chest in an attempt to push him out of the room. He didn't budge, though, an amused smirk on his face as he looked down at me.

"I'll pick you up if you don't stop. What's got you all angry?"

"Just leave me alone. Why can't you listen to me? I ask you for one thing, and you disregard it."

"Fine," he sighed. "I'm sorry you walked in on us. Better?"

I didn't believe him. There was no way he wanted to apologize to me for it. If anything, he probably liked that I had walked in on him and his girlfriend. After all, I recalled when he said that he liked to have people watch him. It was terrifying to me now, and I wanted to throw up with all of the intrusive thoughts floating around in my mind now.

"Whatever."

"Magdalina."

"Get out. Get out of my office, I don't want to deal with you right now."

"I didn't even do anything. You're acting like I murdered someone."

"That's not even funny!" I yelled. "Out! I want you out!"

"Easy, easy," he tried. "Magdalina, I—"

"You have three seconds to get out of my office, or so help me, I am never speaking to you again."

He looked like he was going to question me, the man walking toward me. I took several steps back, my eyes widening slightly when I hit the back of one of the chairs in front of my desk. It was intimidating to have him so close without any sort of space between us—or even with a lot of space between us, I was intimidated by him still at times—but I figured I would be able to manage.

"You're not serious with me right now," he started. "You would talk to me."

"One."

"Doll."

"Two."

It was clear he wasn't listening. He didn't think I was serious with my threat. I had quite literally asked him to leave me alone, and he wasn't listening to me in the slightest. Instead, I had to try and use a tactic that Donna used on her kids when they weren't listening, and even now as a grown adult, Harry wasn't listening.

"Three."

"What are you going to do, not talk to me?" he laughed.

I didn't say anything.

"Tell me why you're so angry."

Complete silence.

"Answer me when I speak to you, doll," he stated, his hand cupping my cheek for a moment until it shifted to the grip where his thumb was on one side of my face and his fingers were on the other. "You can't be fucking serious right now."

I didn't say a word as I stared up at him with a blank expression. If I had been angry before, I was perfectly calm now. He had no control over what was happening, and I could tell that made him squeamish. I watched as he glanced over his shoulder to see if the door was shut, his eyes focusing on me once he realized it was in fact closed. He was still holding my face, but quickly let go, my eyes widening slightly when he traced along my jaw before resting his hand on my throat.

"You're not going to say anything at all?" he questioned.

I didn't know what he was trying to do. At first he stayed quiet, glancing over my face multiple times. I had no idea what he was searching for, what he wanted to see in my expression, and yet he continued to look. Breathing deeply, my body froze when I felt his hand move, Harry placing his hands on my hips. I wanted to yell at him, to tell him not to touch me since I was angry at him, but then he would win. However, I was entirely shocked when he picked me up, the curly-haired personality placing me on my desk.

"You must be pissed," he said lowly. "You're probably wishing you could tell me to fuck off, huh?"

I swallowed hard when he stood between my legs, knowing that my skirt had definitely ridden up, but I wasn't going to look down and draw attention to it. Instead, I wanted to stand my ground. He knew exactly what he was doing and I hated it. I hated every second. But I knew he wanted to win. He wanted to be the one that broke my silence only moments after I had put it in place. I knew I wouldn't allow that though. There was no way.

"What do you want?" he questioned, my eyes focused on his chest so I wasn't looking at him. "Answer me when I speak to you."

Normally, I would. I would almost always agree to look up at him and say something so that he wouldn't be irritated. That wasn't going to work this time either. I would not allow this man to win. There was no way. He wanted to win so badly that it was making it even easier for me to win, actually.

"Magdalina," he grunted, gripping my face harshly with his thumb on one side and his fingers on the other before turning my face up to look at him. "Speak."

I stared at him blankly.

"Fine. Be fucking pissy. You'll talk to me tomorrow when you're over it," he muttered, dropping his hand from my face quickly. "You can't stay silent forever. I didn't even do anything wrong. Not my fault you had to see me fucking my girlfriend."

I continued to blankly stare at him, giving him absolutely nothing to work with. He was becoming tense, Harry grunting as he stepped back from between my thighs. And, finally, he started to head toward the door. I sat perfectly still on the desk, his eyes meeting mine once he was by the door.

"Magdalina, I'm sorry," he said.

Again, I said nothing. He hadn't listened to me, so I didn't want to speak to him. I could tell he was mad when he grabbed the door handle, Harry shouting a curse before slamming the door shut behind him. I hopped off of my desk, walking over to the table by my door. Grabbing the book and pages off of it, I walked back over to my desk, sitting down in the chair properly. Staring down at the pages, I truly couldn't tell what was going on. It was weird, and I didn't like it. However, I simply hoped the next few days would go by without much of a struggle.