Three Indications of Dignity

Three Indications of Dignity

Traditional Irish Triad
There are three indications of dignity in a person: a fine figure, a free bearing, eloquence.

A Fine Figure
She wasn’t the kind of chick he went for.
He liked ‘em tall, skinny, big tits, long legs. Brunette was nice, blonde was better, redhead was the fuckin’ shit. Pale skin with freckles was always a fuckin’ plus.
And he loved it when a girl had a nasty mouth on her – they always gave awesome head.
Gloria Nathan, M.D., was almost the opposite. Soft and lush, rounded and womanly, with smooth, mocha skin and a warm, generous smile, she made him think of coffee ice cream, comfort and warm, safe places.
Ryan O’Reily wouldn’t change one fuckin’ thing about her.

A Free Bearing
Check-up time. Best part of the whole fuckin’ day.
“Hey, doc, you ever take ballet lessons when you were a kid?” Ryan asked, watching her as she moved.
“Yes, ten years,” she replied, taking his wrist between her fingers and counting his pulse.
“I can tell. You’re very graceful. Carry yourself like a fuckin’ queen.”
Gloria looked up at him, surprised by the compliment and searching his face for any sign of sarcasm.
She found none.
“Thanks,” she responded, writing on his chart and giving him a shy smile.
“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling back at her.

Eloquence
“Favorite?”
Six fuckin’ weeks of chemo.
She ducked her head. “I can’t.”
Six week of pukin’ his guts out after every fuckin’ meal and strugglin’ to take a goddamn piss.
“Sure ya can,” he coaxed. “Tell ya mine if ya tell me yours.”
Six weeks away from the neverendin’ danse macabre of Emerald City. How would the citizens respond to the absence of their Wizard?
She blushed, leaning forward awkwardly as she whispered, “Cocksucker.”
But goddamn, it was worth every fuckin’ second when she looked at him with those gorgeous chocolate eyes.
He grinned and winked at her. “Mine, too.”