Chapter Text
A shrill whistle cut through the monotony of heart-rate monitors and idle chatter, causing JD’s head to whip around, eyes wide-open and ears perked. Truth be told, it made him feel a bit like a Pavlovian dog whenever Dr. Cox whistled at him – and for a second JD allowed himself to imagine what it would be like as a dog in a Disney cartoon, trotting around Sacred Heart with a stethoscope slung around his neck and Dr. Cox by his side – a magnificent lion with a lab coat and a reddish mane.
“Patricia! Just the girl I was looking for.”
“He’d eat his steak raw.”
He snapped out of his daydream just in time to see Dr. Cox shaking his head in exasperation, eyes rolling upwards in what JD secretly dubbed his 'So-help-me-God'-Stare.
“Here’s the deal, Newbie.” Grabbing JD by the arm, Dr. Cox hauled him away from the nurse’s station and down the corridor. “Apparently my next-door neighbor has not only been stealing my copy of the New York Times for the last couple of months but also any – and I mean absolutely any – empty pizza boxes he could possibly find in the trash in – what I can only assume is an attempt to be the star of the next season of NBC’s fan-favorite primetime show Ew, What the Hell.”
“I’ve never heard of that show.”
Dr. Cox steadfastily ignored him.
“So, to keep this conversation short enough for me to get back to work and for you to make it just in time for your 3 o’clock mani-pedi,” Dr. Cox paused and turned to face him, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and despair. “I’ll be staying at your place for the next two weeks while pest control tries to wrestle the army of rats now living in my apartment complex.”
“But that’s great!” JD’s face split into a massive smile. “Well - not the rat thing, obviously. But we can order Chinese and watch the Netflix special of Gilmore Girls.”
“Save it, Shelley. Lucky for you I don’t have time to list all the things we will most decidedly not be doing, so here is an abridged version instead: No braiding each other’s hair, no talking about boys, no playing Truth or Dare or any other of the delightful party games you used to play with your sorority sisters-”
His rant cut into an annoyed groan as his pager gave a shrill ring. JD watched as he flashed it a quick look before deeming it a non-emergency and dropping it back into the pocket of his lab coat.
“Where was I?”
“Sorority.”
Dr. Cox huffed and nodded his head from side to side as if debating whether he should bother with the rest of his speech or keep it for another day. After a moment he shook his head and turned his attention back to JD, his expression serious.
“My stuff is already in the Porsche. Meet me in the parking lot at the end of your shift.”
He turned away only to pause in his steps, his eyes flittering back to JD.
“And Mary-Ann? That means you have your lunch break to drive back to your place and get rid of all the embarrassing things you no doubt keep lying around. Like your prized collection of barbie dolls, and the life-sized posters of your favorite boyband – you know, the ones with your lipstick marks all over them from when you were imagining what it would feel like to be kissed by your crush.”
With that he turned around and headed down the corridor.
“Haha, the joke’s on you! You know I use Rowdy to practice kissing!” JD shouted at his retreating back – only to regret it as soon as he saw the disgusted looks on the faces of two passing nurses.
“It was just one time though,” he murmured, feeling defensive. And then, as if it'd explain everything: “I close my eyes too early.”
(As always, the perfect comeback didn’t hit him until hours later when he was talking Mr. Prewitt through his diagnosis.
“I should’ve just pointed out that he has never complained about my technique,” he groaned, silently vowing to himself that he’d get Dr. Cox to admit as much when they were halfway through their Gilmore Girls marathon that night.)