Shock | JD/Dr. Cox pre-slash | PG-13
Oct. 21st, 2006 06:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
myficsTitle: Shock
Pairing: Pre-slash JD/Dr. Cox, one moment of Dr. Cox/Elliot
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,395
Disclaimer: Me = Poor. Bill Lawrence = Filthy Rich. Note the difference.
Summary: When you work in a hospital, sometimes, you feel like nothing can ever surprise you. But then things like catching your best friend kissing your mentor, or having a friend betray your trust, or even…or even realizing that you’ve got feelings for someone you never thought you would…those things happen and suddenly you realize that you’re not so hard to shock.
When you’ve worked in a hospital for five years, you realize you’ve seen pretty much everything. Nothing really surprises you anymore. Like now, I know that if I turn the corner, I’ll see Laverne going toe to toe with Dr. Kelso.
***
“Hey, Laverne!” I call as I turn the corner and find her arguing with Dr. Kelso.
“Mhm,” she says back, not taking her eyes off of him.
***
Yep, nothing can surprise me anymore. Over there, that’ll be Ted doing his morning ritual of talking himself out of jumping off the roof…
***
“Maybe things will get better…maybe Laverne will finally finish him off for me…”
***
Over there, that’s Turk doing his pre-surgery good luck dance…
***
“Nice moves, Brown Bear!”
“Thanks, White Chocolate!”
***
And if I open this patient’s door, I’ll find Dr. Cox…kissing Elliot?
***
I can’t stop the gasp that shoots out of my mouth. Elliot jumps about a mile away from Dr. Cox, but he just stares at me, daring me to say something, and then rolls his eyes at her.
***
Okay, so some things can still surprise you.
***
“Dr. Cox, Dr. Cox!” I call, running up behind him as he stalks down the hall. “What the hell was—“
He rounds on me, and his glare is murderous. I consider, not for the first time, joining Ted on the top of the roof, because that would be a better option than standing here beneath Dr. Cox’s stare.
“Listen, Glinda—yes, Glinda, I’m going with famous witches today—you better forget what you just saw because I don’t feel like incurring the wrath of my dearest darling ex-wife, who will undoubtedly have my head for making out with Barbie back there. So unless you want to talk about patients, and probably even then, I’m going to be heading off now, and it would ruh-huh-hee-ally be in your best interests to forget what you just saw, never mention it again, and leave me the hell alone.”
He stalks away and I stare after him down the hallway.
***
Fine, change of tactics. I’ll talk to Barbie—I mean, Elliot.
***
“Elliot!” I say, catching up to her near the nurses’ station. “Can I talk to you?” I try to guide her away from Carla and Laverne.
“Uh…” Her eyes dart around the hallway, looking for an escape. “No.”
Before I can open my mouth to argue, she jumps on a stretcher that rolls by, landing on a patient, who says, “Oomph!”
“Shhh!” Elliot hisses. “I just made out with my ex-boyfriend’s mentor, I need to get out of here!”
The man on the stretcher nods sympathetically and they roll away.
“What’s going on, Bambi?” Carla asks.
I bite my lip. On the one hand, something is clearly going on today, and I need to talk to someone about it. But Dr. Cox’s words are still ringing in my head.
“Bambi,” Carla says, taking me and pulling me out of the fray of doctors and nurses and charts and germs. “Look, if you’re worried about Dr. Cox killing you, you don’t have to worry, okay? Just talk to me. I’m your friend.”
“Well,” I hesitate once more, then the words start spilling out of my mouth.
“Dr. Cox and Elliot?” Carla asks incredulously and a little too loudly. Heads turn to face us.
“Uh, yeah, they’re working on that proposal together…that’s it! Nothing more! I certainly didn’t catch them kiss—“ Carla claps a hand over my mouth to stop me. I am grateful.
“I can’t believe this!” she says in undertones. “What about Jordan?”
“I don’t think she knows, he told me not to mention it because he said she’d have his head over it. And I think he’d have my head if she had his.”
“Well, don’t worry,” Carla says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me.”
She hands me my patient’s charts for this morning, and I take them gratefully, looking down at my first.
***
Mr. Peterson. Mr. Peterson is this sixty year old man, who, despite having a pleasant and upbeat personality, is a chain smoker and has been in and out of the hospital for the last two years with chronic bronchitis.
***
“Hello, Mr. Peterson!”
“Just let me die.”
“Aw, now, that’s not a very happy attitude. What happened to Mr. Positive?”
“He coughed up a lung. He wants to die.”
“Mr. Peter-Positive, that is no way to look at this! Now, I’m going to start an IV drip and—“
“Is it full of formaldehyde?”
“No, it is not. Now, you just buck up, buckaroo, because we’re going to get through this.”
As I shut the door behind me when I leave, he gives one last call of, “WHY WON’T YOU LET ME DIE?!”
Dr. Cox whistles at me as I step out into the hall. “Hermione, get over here. Walk with me.”
I start walking with him down the hall, despite the fact that my next patient is in the other direction.
“You want to tell me how everyone knows about what happened with Barbie this morning?”
“I-I-I…” I stutter. Damn you, Carla!
“You listen to me, Jadis. I will crush you,” Dr. Cox hisses in my ear and then heads off in the other direction.
I try not to whimper as I stand silently and watch him leave.
I turn and spot Carla, who yelps and ducks behind the nurses’ station.
“Carla!” I say, trying to stalk towards her like Dr. Cox stalks at me.
She peers up over the edge of the counter. “Oh, Bambi, hi! Didn’t see you there.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”
“Laverne dragged it out of me! She’s a conversational wizard!”
I thrust her Mr. Peterson’s chart. “Start a fluid drip and get the anti-smoking lady to visit him again.”
“You know it won’t matter,” Carla says in a business-like tone.
“I have to try.” I turn to walk away.
“Aren’t you going to—“
“Unless its about Mr. Peterson and his stupid chain-smoking, I don’t want to hear about it.”
“So you’re mad?”
“Very.”
I spend most of the day tending to my patients, then head to the doctor’s lounge.
“Move, Elliot,” I tell her, since she’s sprawled out on the couch.
She gasps and jumps into a sitting position.
“I don’t know whether to be mad at you for telling or to feel guilty about it,” she says quietly.
“Both,” I tell her, sitting down next to her.
“Are you mad?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “How long as this been going on?”
“That was the first time anything happened. And it was really more accident than anything. There’s…nothing, really going on. It was just a weird thing that happened.”
I nod and stare at the TV screen. The Dodgers are playing the Mets, but I’m not paying any real attention.
“Who are you even mad at?” she asks.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…are you mad at Dr. Cox for kissing your ex-girlfriend, or are you mad at me for kissing your mentor?”
“I—“ I don’t know. I turn and stare at her. “I don’t know.”
And then she gives me the world’s most pitying look and pats my knee. “I’ve got patients,” she says, and I’m not sure what that has to do with anything, but then she leaves.
Dr. Cox pokes his head into the room a few minutes later. “Hey, Wicked Witch of the West, are you just going to sit there all day, or are you—“
“She has a name,” I say numbly.
Dr. Cox blinks at me in disbelief. “What?”
“The Wicked Witch of the West. She has a name. It’s Elphaba. Haven’t you seen Wicked?”
“All right, that’s it, Galadriel, Sorceress of the Golden Wood, get your ass up and get to Mr. Peterson’s room. His vitals are dropping.”
I nod and follow, staring at Dr. Cox in sheer terror.
***
When you work in a hospital, sometimes, you feel like nothing can ever surprise you. But then things like catching your best friend kissing your mentor, or having a friend betray your trust, or even…or even realizing that you’ve got feelings for someone you never thought you would…those things happen and suddenly you realize that you’re not so hard to shock.
...I've never written Scrubs before. Please give me feedback.
Pairing: Pre-slash JD/Dr. Cox, one moment of Dr. Cox/Elliot
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,395
Disclaimer: Me = Poor. Bill Lawrence = Filthy Rich. Note the difference.
Summary: When you work in a hospital, sometimes, you feel like nothing can ever surprise you. But then things like catching your best friend kissing your mentor, or having a friend betray your trust, or even…or even realizing that you’ve got feelings for someone you never thought you would…those things happen and suddenly you realize that you’re not so hard to shock.
When you’ve worked in a hospital for five years, you realize you’ve seen pretty much everything. Nothing really surprises you anymore. Like now, I know that if I turn the corner, I’ll see Laverne going toe to toe with Dr. Kelso.
“Hey, Laverne!” I call as I turn the corner and find her arguing with Dr. Kelso.
“Mhm,” she says back, not taking her eyes off of him.
Yep, nothing can surprise me anymore. Over there, that’ll be Ted doing his morning ritual of talking himself out of jumping off the roof…
“Maybe things will get better…maybe Laverne will finally finish him off for me…”
Over there, that’s Turk doing his pre-surgery good luck dance…
“Nice moves, Brown Bear!”
“Thanks, White Chocolate!”
And if I open this patient’s door, I’ll find Dr. Cox…kissing Elliot?
I can’t stop the gasp that shoots out of my mouth. Elliot jumps about a mile away from Dr. Cox, but he just stares at me, daring me to say something, and then rolls his eyes at her.
Okay, so some things can still surprise you.
“Dr. Cox, Dr. Cox!” I call, running up behind him as he stalks down the hall. “What the hell was—“
He rounds on me, and his glare is murderous. I consider, not for the first time, joining Ted on the top of the roof, because that would be a better option than standing here beneath Dr. Cox’s stare.
“Listen, Glinda—yes, Glinda, I’m going with famous witches today—you better forget what you just saw because I don’t feel like incurring the wrath of my dearest darling ex-wife, who will undoubtedly have my head for making out with Barbie back there. So unless you want to talk about patients, and probably even then, I’m going to be heading off now, and it would ruh-huh-hee-ally be in your best interests to forget what you just saw, never mention it again, and leave me the hell alone.”
He stalks away and I stare after him down the hallway.
Fine, change of tactics. I’ll talk to Barbie—I mean, Elliot.
“Elliot!” I say, catching up to her near the nurses’ station. “Can I talk to you?” I try to guide her away from Carla and Laverne.
“Uh…” Her eyes dart around the hallway, looking for an escape. “No.”
Before I can open my mouth to argue, she jumps on a stretcher that rolls by, landing on a patient, who says, “Oomph!”
“Shhh!” Elliot hisses. “I just made out with my ex-boyfriend’s mentor, I need to get out of here!”
The man on the stretcher nods sympathetically and they roll away.
“What’s going on, Bambi?” Carla asks.
I bite my lip. On the one hand, something is clearly going on today, and I need to talk to someone about it. But Dr. Cox’s words are still ringing in my head.
“Bambi,” Carla says, taking me and pulling me out of the fray of doctors and nurses and charts and germs. “Look, if you’re worried about Dr. Cox killing you, you don’t have to worry, okay? Just talk to me. I’m your friend.”
“Well,” I hesitate once more, then the words start spilling out of my mouth.
“Dr. Cox and Elliot?” Carla asks incredulously and a little too loudly. Heads turn to face us.
“Uh, yeah, they’re working on that proposal together…that’s it! Nothing more! I certainly didn’t catch them kiss—“ Carla claps a hand over my mouth to stop me. I am grateful.
“I can’t believe this!” she says in undertones. “What about Jordan?”
“I don’t think she knows, he told me not to mention it because he said she’d have his head over it. And I think he’d have my head if she had his.”
“Well, don’t worry,” Carla says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me.”
She hands me my patient’s charts for this morning, and I take them gratefully, looking down at my first.
Mr. Peterson. Mr. Peterson is this sixty year old man, who, despite having a pleasant and upbeat personality, is a chain smoker and has been in and out of the hospital for the last two years with chronic bronchitis.
“Hello, Mr. Peterson!”
“Just let me die.”
“Aw, now, that’s not a very happy attitude. What happened to Mr. Positive?”
“He coughed up a lung. He wants to die.”
“Mr. Peter-Positive, that is no way to look at this! Now, I’m going to start an IV drip and—“
“Is it full of formaldehyde?”
“No, it is not. Now, you just buck up, buckaroo, because we’re going to get through this.”
As I shut the door behind me when I leave, he gives one last call of, “WHY WON’T YOU LET ME DIE?!”
Dr. Cox whistles at me as I step out into the hall. “Hermione, get over here. Walk with me.”
I start walking with him down the hall, despite the fact that my next patient is in the other direction.
“You want to tell me how everyone knows about what happened with Barbie this morning?”
“I-I-I…” I stutter. Damn you, Carla!
“You listen to me, Jadis. I will crush you,” Dr. Cox hisses in my ear and then heads off in the other direction.
I try not to whimper as I stand silently and watch him leave.
I turn and spot Carla, who yelps and ducks behind the nurses’ station.
“Carla!” I say, trying to stalk towards her like Dr. Cox stalks at me.
She peers up over the edge of the counter. “Oh, Bambi, hi! Didn’t see you there.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”
“Laverne dragged it out of me! She’s a conversational wizard!”
I thrust her Mr. Peterson’s chart. “Start a fluid drip and get the anti-smoking lady to visit him again.”
“You know it won’t matter,” Carla says in a business-like tone.
“I have to try.” I turn to walk away.
“Aren’t you going to—“
“Unless its about Mr. Peterson and his stupid chain-smoking, I don’t want to hear about it.”
“So you’re mad?”
“Very.”
I spend most of the day tending to my patients, then head to the doctor’s lounge.
“Move, Elliot,” I tell her, since she’s sprawled out on the couch.
She gasps and jumps into a sitting position.
“I don’t know whether to be mad at you for telling or to feel guilty about it,” she says quietly.
“Both,” I tell her, sitting down next to her.
“Are you mad?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “How long as this been going on?”
“That was the first time anything happened. And it was really more accident than anything. There’s…nothing, really going on. It was just a weird thing that happened.”
I nod and stare at the TV screen. The Dodgers are playing the Mets, but I’m not paying any real attention.
“Who are you even mad at?” she asks.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…are you mad at Dr. Cox for kissing your ex-girlfriend, or are you mad at me for kissing your mentor?”
“I—“ I don’t know. I turn and stare at her. “I don’t know.”
And then she gives me the world’s most pitying look and pats my knee. “I’ve got patients,” she says, and I’m not sure what that has to do with anything, but then she leaves.
Dr. Cox pokes his head into the room a few minutes later. “Hey, Wicked Witch of the West, are you just going to sit there all day, or are you—“
“She has a name,” I say numbly.
Dr. Cox blinks at me in disbelief. “What?”
“The Wicked Witch of the West. She has a name. It’s Elphaba. Haven’t you seen Wicked?”
“All right, that’s it, Galadriel, Sorceress of the Golden Wood, get your ass up and get to Mr. Peterson’s room. His vitals are dropping.”
I nod and follow, staring at Dr. Cox in sheer terror.
When you work in a hospital, sometimes, you feel like nothing can ever surprise you. But then things like catching your best friend kissing your mentor, or having a friend betray your trust, or even…or even realizing that you’ve got feelings for someone you never thought you would…those things happen and suddenly you realize that you’re not so hard to shock.
...I've never written Scrubs before. Please give me feedback.
