Not necessarily relevant.

"Okay, doc, I'm sure you've had to operate in far worse conditions than this." MacKenzie said, closing the blinds to the small hotel room. "Bright side, you shouldn't have to do any surgery. But you're the most discrete and well-trained that I could find..."

The doc looked a bit pityingly, "I'm here as a favor. I won't say to whom; neither will you. But usually, if a man needs a veterinarian, and there's no animal, he's trying to get a bullet wound treated and has seen far too many crime dramas... and not nearly enough first aid training. If you don't need me for surgery, what do you need?"

MacKenzie finished fiddling with the blinds, locking the door... and turned to the doc. "Well, I'm the patient."

"Naturally."

"Right, right... um. Ok, this isn't easy for me. I'm not..." The small, swarthy man stopped fidgeting, and flexed... growing a couple inches, a couple breasts, and a very fine figure. "Human." He... she? MacKenzie spoke with a softer, more melodious voice... though all of the anxiety remained.

"Holy... shit! How... what?" The doc dropped his case, composure, and into a chair.

"Yeah. I know. I'm some kind of shape-shifter. I guess." She held up an arm and bent it in ways no bones can tolerate, and grew a few thumbs, then a lot of hair, and finally shook it back to a more photogenic appearance. "As far as I know, my folks were human. I had a very happy childhood for the first twelve years... but that's beside the point."

"I..." The doc blinked a bit. "Okay, you're... maybe human, but not... okay, why me?"

"Well, I've got an itch, and I was wondering if it could be some kind of allergic reaction... or if I need to take an antibiotic... or antifungal. I mean, I guess it could be some form of jock itch."

"I mean," through gritted teeth, "Why me? If this isn't some trick or hallucination, you are not human, and should be studied for..." He stopped and blinked a bit. "I just answered my own question, didn't I?"

"I'd rather avoid dissection. It's pretty much the definition of a last resort. I suggested a veterinarian, because... well, I could be some form of alien, and you'd be the closest thing to a practicing xenobiologist. Of course, I also happen to be something you or anyone with a PhD would love to molest in the name of science. So, in addition to you needing to stay on the good side of our mutual friend, I'm going to make sure I leave here looking like this." She posed, showing off her altered physique. "And a private investigator friend of mine will have some nice photos to show to your wife."

"This is just to keep you honest, alright? Nothing personal, just... I am putting my life in your hands, and, well, if you can't handle a patient that can cripple you for life, you've no business working with horses either." The 'woman' removed her t-shirt and jeans. "Now the affected area is right here." She gestured to a patch of skin with an assortment of welts.

"Ah. I... erm." The doctor leaned in to look. "You are probably the second most distracting patient I've ever... hmm."

"I could turn into someone else? Still going to leave like this. Or I won't fit in the dress I picked out."

"Well, I don't know what it is just by looking. Let me get some swabs of this, a bit of blood..." He sighed. "Christ, this is why I never went into biological research."

"Blackmail from shapeshifters?"

"No." He ticked off items on his fingers, "I don't know: what you are; what can cause this; what can grow on you; what you're allergic to; or even if there's a medication that is safe to use on you."

"Ah." She wiggled her way into a tight red dress. "At least you're handling this pretty well."

"Er, I suppose? I'm just trying to ignore the implications for now. But... why are you getting dressed? I need to swab those welts if I'm going to study anything."

MacKenzie handed the doc a large envelope. "Blood drawn early this morning. There's a urine sample there too. And you can probably guess what's on the cotton swabs in the little baggie." The vials of fluid clinked within as the doctor opened the envelope.

"Ah, good. Hopefully that will be enough blood. Um. Right. You know how to get in touch with me if symptoms progress. Not sure what I'll do, exactly, but as long as you don't melt, I suppose I'm better than nothing. How do I get in touch if I find anything?"

"I left a number in there too." MacKenzie primped a bit in a mirror, adjusting the length of her hair. "After you've had a chance to check the bloodwork, I'll submit to a more thorough examination."

The doc looked at her, and at the envelope. "Ah. Yes. I... guess you thought this out in advance."

"I had to. Like I said, I really do not want to end up dissected. And, hey, if you tell... well, it's about as believable as saying you had a sasquatch in for arthritis."

The doc left shortly after MacKenzie. And waved at the PI with the camera.

Three days later, the doc called the number.

"MacKenzie." A man's voice answered. "Good news?"

"I guess. I assume you're certain you provided the samples. Everything came back pretty normal. Type A- blood, human. Normal cholesterol levels, even."

"Right... I assume it's not my diet that's the issue?"

"Well, it'll be more important later. See, the white cell count was normal too. Can't be an infection or an allergic reaction if the immune system isn't involved. Have you encountered any nausea?"

"Not really, why?"

"Morning sickness. See, the urine did come up positive on a pregnancy test. And the swabs have rather a lot of estrogen." The doc droned on a bit about other things he tried to test with what he had. "I really hope you don't expect me to be a midwife..."

"No. No... I... shouldn't need you for that. Just... I'm going to need some time to digest this."

"I'll bet. Figure the reason it turned into a rash is that it had to go somewhere when you turned male... hopefully, you can work it back into a better spot for the remainder of gestation. Anyway, you know where to get me if anything comes up." And the doc hung up the phone.

The veterinarian grinned, and dumped the unopened vials from the envelope into a trash bin. "Sheesh. No payment, threaten my marriage... and I'm supposed to risk these samples in a lab? Suck my malpractice." After lighting the contents on fire behind his clinic, he touched his wedding band thoughtfully.