“This is ridiculous,” Vin complained. Not that complaining was unusual, but Beau thought some variety on the theme might be nice. Beau was mostly asleep in the doctor’s waiting room chair, an uncomfortable assortment of metal and fake leather that should never have gotten together to call itself furniture. It was, even, he would dare say it, a vinyl chair. Maybe he had a bit of a blind spot about the word as a word, because he wasn’t sure it suited such an awkward arrangement of poking metal bars and slick not-quite-fabric. On the other hand, perhaps if he actually didn’t stay up until three in the morning binge-watching episodes of Supernatural, he wouldn’t be so exhausted and thinking nonsense at himself at Vin’s eight A.M. doctor’s appointment.
Unlikely, though.
Doctors’ offices were
