Opening the door to the office I could already tell it was going to be one of those days. Cupboards left open, various upturned boxes, scattered folders, you'd think to call the police if it wasn't for the dancing of Dr. Peony's bushy tail, it's owner chest deep in the supply closet.
“Anton, you know you're supposed to call in if you're going to be arriving late!” rings out the chipper, but strict tone of the doctor, departing the closet with an armload of amber bottles. Her quick glance at the clock saves me from correcting her. “7 o'clock already? Apologies, Anton, I must've lost track of time again...” Her fluffy cheeks shielding her flushed flesh from view.
I let out a chuckle, “you must be working on something important, Peony, that's the only thing that makes you lose all sense of time.” I place my bag by the door and head towards the table Dr. Peony is taking the bottles too. “So what is it this time, a miracle diet drink?”
“Don't be absurd, this is something much more serious, and I still plan to tackle that subject to the ground!” Dr. Peony squeezes her side, feeling the last hint of her winter flab. “No, Anton, this is a subject of the season, and that season is...”
“Spring, Peony, I do walk to work you know.”
The Squirrel-woman smiles, “precisely, and I appreciate you're contribution to fighting the climate crisis, even if it's only out of your road test anxiety.”
Sigh, why did I ever think it was a good idea to tell her about that? “Yes, yes, but you were saying about Spring?”
“Right, Spring, time of that damnable curse the bearded sky apparition placed upon the fairer sex,” Dr. Peony bites her lip, “ and that curse is the Estrous cycle.”
Wait, really? That's what's got her in Bob the Builder mode? Her heat?
“Uh, Peony, not to be a critic, but they already found a chemical solution to that, you can buy it at the pharmacy, my bunny neighbour started taking it after the 15th kit.”
Dr. Peony batted a hand dismissively. “Bah, estrogens and progestins... such an inelegant solution to a problem. All of that ends up in the water supply, by the way.”
She does have a point, wastewater contamination being another of my many anxieties, but I'm not going to make the mistake of letting her know again.
“True, but another thing, you never seem to be that affected by your heat compared to other anthros I know, so I—” Dr. Peony doesn't let me finish, shoving her spectacle-laden face right into mine.
“That is because I am a woman of intellect, Anton, I can keep my bestial urges well away. But that doesn't mean they don't exist, nor does it mean my thoughts aren't constantly tainted by instincts I have no control over due to my own personal ethics. Do you think you would enjoy constant invasive desires to be ravaged by any and all spe—wait, nevermind,” Dr. Peony stops herself, rolling her eyes in the process. “Ignoring that last one, which clearly already applies to you, my dear fur-less assistant. I take it you now understand why this an important subject.”
I simply nod, best not to argue with the squirrel anymore this morning.
“So, how far along in the process for this 'heat suppressant' are you?”
Dr. Peony's focus is on the bubbling flask hanging over the burner, a dropper in her paws. “The first prototype is nearly finished, it should be ready by the time you've cleaned up this mess.”
Giving Dr. Peony her space, I start with getting the scattered contents of the folders back into place.
By the time I've finished, Dr. Peony is shaking a corked tube filled with a pink liquid in her paw.
“So, when are the test candidates supposed to arrive?”
Dr. Peony points at herself, “she's already here. This first batch is tailored exclusively to me, can't be worried about all the little differences between test subjects, even I can't prepare something like that in a single morning.”
I struggle to think of something to say, but I can already tell she's prepared for the most obvious questions.
“It's not going to kill me, Anton, even I'm not that foolhardy, the worst possible outcome might be sterility, and I've already stored a large 'contingency' in the freezer. And on the bright side, I'd have new motivation to work on that fertility treatment.” Dr Peony eyes the tube in her hand, popping the cork with her thumb. “Well. Wish me luck, Anton!”
“Good luck, Peony.” I say, hoping she hasn't miscalculated the risk, I don't know of any other doctors who'd let me get away with disregarding their titles like Peony does.
Dr. Peony gulps the contents in a single swig, resisting the urge to throw the empty glass against a wall.
“Eck,” says the squirrel, “must remember to improve the flavour in the final batch.” She points to a stray clipboard, "make sure you write all of this down, Anton."
I grab it and begin to transcript her speech.
Dr. Peony looks at her paws, then begins to examine herself. “Hmm, no metallic aftertaste, no extra fur, seems to be nominal so far.” Peony's paws next went a little lower than I expected.
“No abdominal pains, no—”, pawing just below her belt line stops her. “I wasn't this tingling before, something is definitely—”, her fingers inch further. “AH!” She shrieks in pleasure. “Alright, 150% more receptive to sexual stimuli, that wasn't what I calculated as a side-effect.”
Dr. Peony eases her paw back to her coat pocket. I finish noting down what she said.
“Anton, do you remember where we sto—”, Dr. Peony's stops yet again, “oh no.”
“Store what, Peony?” I inquire, looking over to her, she staring at me with dilated pupils and drool oozing from the corners of her mouth. “Oh shit, are you alright, Peony?”
Dr. Peony's walks towards me, but stops, seeming to be using her last ounce of control.
“N-note down a 170% hormonal increase when male is visually present.”
The last ounce of self-control gives way, Dr. Peony pounces on me, knocking me into the desk and sending the notes flying. “Oh it's completely useless, I can't stop this, forgive me for this, Anton.”
Her paws are already sliding my coat off.