Next Patient

The Fixer opened the last three files and felt a distinct lack of enthusiasm. They had thought this project would be just the thing needed to kickstart their motivation. It wasn't turning out to be that way. Two of the problems would be fixed together, and the fact the double header fit into this commission was simply a happy accident, it would be a job they would do regardless. The Fixer would use them as the dénouement, the end game it seemed so fitting.

The other one, well that was one The Fixer was feeling flat about, Lust and the Dr.

Dr Olivia Orchid was a sex therapist, who took her job just a little too literally. The email that put her on The Fixer’s radar was such a blunt one ‘that bitch ruined my marriage, said she was a counsellor. She slept with my damn weak ass husband and then offered to sleep with me, saying my problem was that he wasn’t right for me.’

It had raised The Fixer’s interest only because it cursorily maybe fit the criteria of a project they had just been offered. Nothing else came across the desk that fit better, so the sex therapist it was.

Following the usual work protocol, The Fixer studied the target, in this case the information was far closer to the surface. It took very few keystrokes to net a whole stream of vitriol.

…whore…

…bitch stole my husband…

…fix my marriage she said…

…she’ll put anything in that mouth of hers…

…I can’t believe I trusted that slut…

And more than a few threats, some quite colourful and creative, and those threats were useful. Those threats could be used to muddy the waters if nothing else. The Dr had far more detractors than positive reviews.

It was the threats and Orchid’s blatant disregard of the feelings of her so called clients that gave The Fixer their solution, the story was a cliché that wrote itself. Turned out this job was going to be a quick and simple turnover, and The Fixer supposed not every job had to be clever or classy, sometimes it just needed to be the job, which was probably how most people actually felt about their jobs.

There was nothing special about the office where Dr Orchid had her practice. The waiting room was like any number of other waiting rooms The Fixer had seen. Dark wood paneling. Big soft sofas, and plenty of magazines, but not the normal sort you saw in most office waiting rooms. These were of a somewhat more graphic nature. The prints on the walls would be considered artistic by some, The Fixer wasn’t one of them.

Sitting in the waiting room for the last appointment of the day, minutes ticked by. The small, almost hidden light on the wall near the seamless section of the wall that was presumably the door, stayed firmly red. The Fixer nodded to themselves in satisfaction, a door with no handle from this side was another advantage that couldn’t be ignored.

Finally, the light flicked from red to green and it only took a few more minutes before the door panel swung open. The Fixer stood, wiping hands on their trousers, hoping it gave the impression of nerves, before hesitantly walking inside.

It took mere seconds for The Fixer to do a visual sweep of the room, noting how the door behind them was secured, finding the exit, seeing windows that didn’t properly open - so there was no way out there, not that it was likely to prove necessary. When they had arrived, the secretary had said they were the last client of the day and not to worry the good Doctor would let them out the front door, due to the secretary’s working day almost being done.

Once ingress and egress had been spotted, the other details of the room where filed in place; the two chaise lounges, a couple of single wing back chairs, a large desk and a coffee table with a stunning orchid sitting in the center of it. The flower’s scent filled the air and was combined with the obvious odour of sex.

Around the room were lit candles, and The Fixer noted a few wax stains on one of the chaises. Turning their attention to the Dr they also noted reddish marks on her skin that looked as though they could have been made by the wax. That information was filed away as possibly useful in setting the final stage. The more information that filed into The Fixer’s brain the more it seemed obvious that this was all going to be dealt with before the end of the booked session time. Something that gave a little lift to their step.

Throughout the first fifteen minutes of the session The Fixer listened to Dr Orchid and made appropriate responses for the character they had booked the session as. All the while the back brain was selecting all the details that would be incorporated, including playing with the stiletto blade that was currently in their pocket.

Then came to opening, another button on her blouse undone, a hesitant reply doubling as a possible invitation. She came in close as her conversation turned to the benefits of emersion therapy. She moved close enough for The Fixer to feel her breath on their neck, and as they tilted their head to look into her eyes, the blade was pulled from the pocket. It was precise and clean. Nothing elegant or classy about it to be sure, though wax dripped around the entry point in the shape of the heart was a fine little touch.

As The Fixer left, the little red light flicked over to green, not that there was anyone there to see it.