“You’re talking about getting back into therapy?” JC asked, making sure he’d understood Dirt Nap correctly, before shaking his head. “I tried for a bit before I came here and ended up leaving. It’s not something I’m looking to start again professionally. At least for a while.” Even if he did have an ID good enough to pass muster, the thought of having to get relicensed and setting up a night-time practice was a little overwhelming. The idea that he would have to do it again every ten years like Mable was doing or so even more so. All that was discounting the apprehension he had of placing himself in a position of power over someone that the Beast thought of as only a meal.
“But I’ll keep in mind the offer,” he assured him. A basic fake ID didn’t trigger those distant future thoughts and would be useful from time to time.
He smiled slightly at the Prince’s joke. “Yeah, that’s right,” he agreed.