Top of Form
Title: My Smackdown (2), although you don't have to have read the first one to understand it.
Pairings: Cox/JD, Cox/Jordan, Dr. Cox/The Todd, JD/The Todd
Rating: Still wholesome and PG-ish
Summary: JD continues to repeatedly anger Dr. Cox, as does everybody.
Word Count: 4, 930.
A/N: Misguided attempt at Cox-voice. As I said last time, unintentional plagiarism is highly likely. If you tell me about it, I'll most probably lie and say it was a reference. Which very occasionally, it may actually be. Also, one occasion in which Dr. Cox's thoughts are indicated in bold. It only happens once, so is vaguely pointless, but I kind of liked the line, and…well, there it is.
My life is just a bundle of kittens, it really is. Just when you don't think it can get any worse, your wife tells the entire hospital you're sleeping with Lady Loserface, or at least planning to sometime in the near future.
And no, jee-ust for the record, I'm really, really, ruh-huh-heally not. Ever. Point blank nada zip no chance even if she flung herself against my manly, manly chest and begged me whilst crying her giant doe eyes out (She has ridiculous eyes, I mean for the love of God, didya mother actually steal them from a Disney character? Is that what those are?) I would still push her into the nearest wall and walk away, very far away, whilst laughing.
Satan-in-a-lab-coat and his flopsweat-drenched minion actually had the nerve to collect bets. I mean bets, for God's sakes, people were betting on when I would get together with that sappy, pathetic-excuse-for-a-man/doctor/hairstyle.
And I'm not, of course, it's patently obvious to anyone with eyes that I don't spend all my time holed up in the on-call room having disturbing mentor-student sex with that creature, and nor have I spent even a second wanting to. I'm guessing she has. She clearly leans that way, and I have nothing against that, really I don't, just so long as it's not me being outed to the entire hospital, and with Newbie for God's sakes, couldn't she have picked someone better in that paltry excuse for a staff? Seltzer would have been better. Gandhi. Anyone but her.
However, the entire hospital is still witnessing this cataclysmic event (Including her. She thinks I can't see her hiding behind the wall, but I can. She will pay for that later. Just because Lola's a big girl now and she isn't a resident any more doesn't mean she gets to completely ignore my orders.), so good ol' Jordy-Pordy must be dealt with first.
"Well, if you'd be so kind as to hop on your broomstick and whiz away…whiz away…whiz away…"
I'm making the damn whizzing motions and she's still just standing there glaring at me.
"You know Per, you can't just call me the lovechild of Satan and Bob Kelso and then expect me to leave without yelling at you some more. Because I so won't. Anyhoo, I thought you were enjoying our little barney. Whattsamatter, suddenly feel the urge and have to go get Rosy Posy to scratch the itch? He's right behind that wall, I could call him for you if you'd like."
Oh, it is so on.
"Well, Jordarooney, I have to say thanks a bundle and a dozen for that oh-so-nauseating image that just won't get out of my head, I mean it's officially up there in the if-I-ever-become-a-bulimic-I-will-use-this-image stakes with you in the morning, I swear, and on that topic, I have to say you looked particularly revolting this morning, I mean shades of your mother all over, I don't know why you don't just move to a condo in Florida, get a purple rinse and be done with it."
Ha, beat that.
"Oh, comparing me to my mother, original. Yanno Per, you were right before, I should go. You've got no pop right now. I'm guessing you're saving it all for Lizzie McGuire over there. If you're worried about me, don't be. If I'm allowed hot younger men, you're allowed that thing. Just don't bring him into the house, kay? And you've been a great audience, really."
And my ex-wife, scourge of the earth, waltzed out the door with the last word. Again, damn it all to hell.
The collection of assorted idiots and buffoons vanished in a cloud of dust. Except Mandy. Turns out she really is that big of an idiot. Thankfully for her hide, I was not in a flaying mood.
"Carla, I have to ask, what is it with you women? Are ya always this ridiculous about believing you're right?"
"Well, we usually are right."
I raise an eyebrow. She raises one right back. Eyebrow duels, just like the old days. Man do I miss the days when my every waking minute wasn't controlled by the queen of all crones.
"You know I always win these."
"Convincing counter-argument, Miss Debating Team."
"Just because you win an eyebrow war doesn't mean women aren't always right."
"I think you'll find it states in the rules that the winner gets to draw whatever conclusions they damn well please from the results."
"You're such an ass."
"Do you want me to make a comment about yours? Pregnancy does you good, baby."
She gives me the 'didn't-I-tell-you-no-more-of-that?' eye.
"Don't worry, I have my very own nagging, whining, complaining machine at home. Don't need another one, thanks."
She pokes me.
"Oh, run out of your particular brand of bitchy Latina comebacks, have we?"
"No. You just deserved to be poked. And you better not just have implied I'm a bitch."
I notice Sue Ellen is still hiding around the corner. She has the frightened-rabbit expression on her face, the expression that is just begging 'Dr. Cox, please come yell at me and make my life a living hell'. So I just have to oblige.
"Katy, Katy, Katy. Now what did I tell you about eavesdropping? What did I say?"
"Um…I don't really know, Dr. Cox."
"Bad answer, Marie. Very bad answer. Ya see, your purpose in life is to follow me around and hang on to my every word like the adoring little idiot you are, and if you fail at that, then you simply have no purpose in life and that means…"
She looks neither chastened nor terrified. She is gazing at me with a horrible, sickening, gooey expression that makes me want to vomit all over her favorite shoes.
"Dear holy sweet Lord, what is it?"
"Oh…nothing, I just never noticed how when you get angry your neck muscles stand out. You have a very muscly neck. It's nice, though."
I think my neck muscles may explode. The expression is dripping goo on the linoleum. I will be strangling Newbie in 10…9…
"Ah, Perry, just the man I wanted to see."
"Ah, Bob, just the man I wanted to punch/kick/strangle/generally maim and destroy."
"You're here for life, Perry."
Ouch, Bob. Low blow.
"A board member…"
"Oh, let me guess, it's much more fun that way. A board member's pet goldfish fell ill and even though this is, in fact, still a hospital for sick people, you want me to drop everything and look after it's every need. A board member's mistress broke her nail, a board member's daughter just got her period and needs trauma counseling, something that isn't remotely important cropped up but because a board member's involved you want me, the best doctor in the Milky Way, to be there at the patient's beck and call, yes?"
"If you want to put it that way, fine. Mr. Goldberg's wife is having mild stomach pains. Have a good time, Perry. And be nice."
He smiles his 'I'm-a-complete-bastard-who-must-die-but-will-in-fact-live-forever' patented grin at me and waltzes away to check his accounts and mock his poor pathetic lapdog (This thought is punctuated by a cry from the roof of "Let today be the day! Somebody push me, for the love of God!"). I go to talk to the patient. It of course turns out that there is nothing remotely wrong with her, but because she is a nut job she wants to stay in while we run every test in the history of medicine on her.
"Hi Dr. Cox, I was wondering if you could help me with Mr. Wilson…"
"It would be easier for the both of us if you just outright asked for the Forehead Flick, so-called 'Doctor' Barbie."
Forehead Flick is deployed, all are happy. I think Barbie may be crying a little. Then again, when isn't she?
"Get over it, sweetcheeks, or I'll find worse ways to deter you."
The maddening creature that is Tamara decides it is wise to bother me.
"Hi, Dr. Cox. How're things?"
"Much, much better before you decided to turn up."
"Oh. Um, Dr. Cox, what do you think Jordan meant when she said…"
"If the next words out of your irritating little mouth are even remotely related to the High Priestess of Satanism's comments about you being in love with me, I swear to every single god of every single religion, my ex-wife, Bob Kelso, and also me, because I'm pretty damn close to being God, that that pretty little mouth of yours will not have anything come out of it for the next two hours but blood and your teeth."
She looks distinctly alarmed (Thank the Lord, no more damn goo!) and shuts up.
And, oh no, I thought I told the Creature of The Night to go home. It's swooped back in. And it's grinning.
"Run, Sarah. Run as fast as you can. Run like that creepy janitor who's always following you around is watching."
She yelps. Stupidly, she does not run.
"Gee, Per, is it fun having your own little fanclub right here at work? And such cute little fangirls too."
She waggles her fingers at Kitty.
"How have I not killed you yet?" I retort.
She smiles. It is neither sweet nor sincere.
"I am not his fangirl!" protests Stacey, unsuccessfully.
She is very clearly my fangirl. This I can cope with. The hero-worship and general adoration are all yet more things that prove I am the step between the gods and man. Perry Cox, demi-god. I rock so hard it hurts, I rule all, everyone bows before me et cetera. The mushy seeming-to-confirm-what-Jordan-the-Pordan-has-been-whining-about-for-what-feels-like-eternity is not. Jordan cannot be right, for one. For two, it's bad enough having to break the hearts of all the women in this place by being taken. If I start in on the men, I might just get arrested.
"I think you better ease him in gently, Per, I mean, after all, he hasn't had a sexual experience since That One Night In College with Bald Black Murse."
"Turk's a surgeon, actually," says the man-child-girl-thing who's uselessness increases by the second.
"Way to score 'my boyfriend's job's better than your boyfriend's job' points there, Minty." I say to it. "And as for you, Jordaroo, if you can't say anything that doesn't involve me screwing the living daylights out of Mary (I saw that, Liza. Why the hell did you blush?!) then don't say anything at all."
Bethany is pointedly refusing to stop blushing. The shade would be rather fetching on my Porsche, actually. She also looks worryingly happy about something, and now seems to have gone off into one of her little daydreams, and her expression is becoming gooier and oh, dear God, now I'm going to have nightmares, lustful. Her expression is lustful.
"Damn, we didn't get to the good part," she mutters resentfully.
She then catches my glare. 'Oops' says her face. That's right oops, face.
"Dear all things holy, Marissa, what on God's green earth is the matter with you?"
"Um…I have-I have…I have a new girlfriend!" she says triumphantly.
"Does she exist entirely in your head or did you get the inflatable version this time?"
She glares. She glares about as convincingly as a kicked puppy.
"Hey, I have girlfriends. I have a list if you want to see."
"That's on the very bottom of my 'Things I Will Ever Do Ever' list. And the list is in chronological order of when I will do the things so I'll be doing that precisely never."
"Do you really find me that annoying?"
"Yes, buttercup, a thousand million times yes and a thousand more. I have always found you that annoying and I always, always, trust me on this, without fail, always will. And why would you be so stupid as to ask me that question? Are you really so incredibly dense that you don't yet get that I cannot stand you?"
She looks as though she is going to burst into tears at any second. Oh, no. I feel overwhelmed with a sudden and highly unwelcome bout of tenderness.
"You are, however, perhaps, maybe, just maybe…sort-of passably O.K. to be around at times."
And that is the best you will ever get out of me, you great big weepy girl.
She beams. No-one should be made that happy by that ridiculous a compliment, and yet there is the beam, lighting up houses and helping schoolchildren everywhere cross roads. She is quite possibly the biggest idiot in the world and oh dear help me, I think she's going to hug me.
"No! Bad Newbie, bad!"
She pouts in the most incredibly pathetic manner I have ever seen.
"Oh, please, Rachel, if sad-face worked on me Jordan would have eight thousand shoes and a live-in toyboy and Jack would have his collection of Lego in the Guinness Book Of World Records."
"I'm just happy that you like me again. You've been mean all day."
"I am mean all day every day and have been for the past five years and will be for the next and was for my entire life before then. How do you still not get me, Clarissa?"
"But it's all an act. Deep down you're just a great big huggable teddy bear!"
"Noo, Valley Girl, deep down I am pure hard muscle and I will eat you up and clean my teeth with your tiny toothpick bones."
"I know you don't mean that. You said you liked me!"
"I take it back."
"You can't take it back. No takesies backsies."
"Are we in kindergarten, now, Paris? Dear God, there is no way in hell they should let people over the age of nine who use the phrase 'takesies backsies' anywhere near a med school, I swear to God."
"What up, dog?"
"Holla atcha boi!"
Oh good God, it's her biffle. And the overdone ghetto-speak.
"I'll just leave you two to make each other friendship bracelets while the rest of us get on with our lives."
"Catch you later, Dr. Cox," says Gandhi.
"See you around, friend!" says Nicole.
I can hear her starting to describe the beautiful moment when I finally acknowledged just how much she means to me in all her complete idiocy. I will make sure never to feel sympathy for her ever again.
Oh, good, Barbie. This should be fun.
"Dr. Cox, I just…you know, I've been in the bathroom crying about just how mean you've been to me, and the only person who usually has that effect on me is my mother-and occasionally Dr. Kelso, but that's beside the point-and I really think you should know how you make me feel, so I took the liberty of writing a speech, and it took me some time, and so I think the least you could do is just listen to me for once."
"I'm all ears, Barbum."
She clears her pale scrawny throat and begins. Oh, boy, I'm in for the long haul.
"Dr. Cox, you may be a good doctor. I mean, a very good doctor, and more than likely better than I am, and yes, I am a good doctor, but maybe not as good as I could be, I don't know, it could be my poor self-image issues talking-I developed those when my mother told me my swimsuit made my calves look fat, and then she made the pool boy stop massaging her and tell me no man would ever want me if I didn't stick to salad, because he certainly didn't. He only ever massaged my mother, now that I think about it…"
"Let me cut to the chase for you there. You got very upset because I wouldn't help you. Bu-ut, you've now sorted out the treatment for Mr. Wilson on your own, haven't you?"
"Well, yes, but if you'd actually helped me instead of being so mean it would have saved a lot of…"
"Again, Barbo, cut the babble. You need to stand on your own two feet. So you got your lesson for the day from good old Uncle Cox, so why don't you run along back to the psychiatrist's office now?"
"Why aren't you calling me Barbie? Not that I would mind if you stopped, it's actually a pretty offensive nickname when you think about it, although it's a great doll-I still have my Pony Club Barbie. I so wanted a pony of my own…but my mother said that it might catch her with Alfonso. The pool boy, that is. I mean, why are you calling me a new version of Barbie? It's kind of…"
"It's because you are annoying me to such a great extent that I need new nicknames to express my vexation. Got that, Barbatim?"
"Couldn't you just call me Elliot? It is kind of my name."
"No. I have to go be bothered by other people now."
Oh, joy, it's Pretty In Pink.
"Oh, yippee, what the hell do you want now, Flora?"
"I just thought you might want to talk to me again."
"Never think that, Doris. Never. It is a lie."
"Looking good, Dr. Foxy Coxy!" yells the idiot from surgery.
I am looking good. I always look good.
"Oh, don't let him see me…"
For some reason, Darla has decided to hide behind my back.
"I have to ask, what in God's name do you think you're doing?"
"Hiding from The Todd. He hits on me."
Excellent. I grab Sabrina and hold her out in front of me like a glorious prize for Surgery Meathead #8.
"Oh, The Todd! Fresh meat."
The Todd grins lasciviously and wanders over with his famed idiot-walk.
"Why are you torturing me?"
"It's what I do."
"No, it's what I do," says the creepy janitor, appearing from nowhere.
Becky yelps and tries to hug me/use me as a shield/run.
"And he's what I do best!" says The Todd, grinning and nodding.
She, I think determinedly.
The creepy janitor shudders and wanders to a hiding place.
"I'm not gay, The Todd!"
Bernice fails to convince anyone.
"That's not what his hot ex-wife said. Kudos, by the way, man. We'll high-five later. And she said Dr. Cox and you were…"
Oh, this man must die. Dropping Kristy, I lunge at him, hoping my I'm-a-raving-maniac-who-will-tear-out-your-eyes-with-my-teeth eyes are on.
He remains irritatingly unconcerned.
"Oh, we like it rough, do we? I've got to tell you, I'm not like this one. I won't just lie there and take…"
I shove my fist in his mouth to shut him up. Oh, the horror, I have hideous images in my head…
"This is karma's revenge for putting me at the mercy of The Todd. Also, is the idea of me and you so very repulsive?"
"Do you want a fist in your mouth?"
She daydreams momentarily.
"Is it made of chocolate?"
I give up, I really do.
The Todd mumbles something about things that aren't made of chocolate but do taste sweet if he'd like a lick. I shove the fist further down his throat because this man makes me feel physically ill and he's trying to corrupt Newbie, who is useless enough without having to add 'runs off every five seconds to give blow jobs to The Todd' to the list of Things That Make Hailey The Worst Doctor Ever.
"I told you he hits on me. Are you defending my honor?"
"Holy hell, Guinevere, no! I'm protecting my already frazzled brain from the hideous images of you and this thing…together."
"You mean because if you thought about DJ in a sexual way you'd be a step closer to shaking off your denial and admitting your love for the little lapdog?"
Oh joy, Queen Vampire's back.
"Ah, Elphaba, I was wondering when you'd come back to haunt me."
"Dr. Cox, you saw Wicked? Isn't it just the greatest musical of all time…"
"No, Shelly, when I called Jordan 'Wicked Witch Of The West' because she had been slightly less evil than usual that day, you, like the helpful little Girl Guide you are, oh-so-helpfully informed me that 'her name is actually Elphaba'. And then I flicked your ear. Do you forget that particular occurrence, there, Teen Skipper?"
"Oh, I remember now. I was only trying to be helpful, and all I got out of it was my date laughing at me for having a bright red ear."
The Todd starts to say something. He may very well be asking to go to the bathroom, but I attempt to crush his esophagus anyway, just in case.
"Maybe that was his intention. He didn't want his little plaything getting distracted and running away with a girl."
Margaret looks absurdly pleased. Oh, dear God no, she actually likes me. I'm going to have to kill myself.
The Todd makes a strangled noise, which may be 'Help me!'.
"When I remove my fist from your throat, you will exit the area in precisely two seconds, not saying a word. If you fail to follow these instructions, you will never be able to pollute this hospital with your euphemisms and innuendo ever again. Comprende?"
He tries to nod. I free him, and he runs away very quickly, picking up a nurse who soon develops a disgusted expression along the way.
"So, Per, have you told him yet that you want nothing more in the world to see exactly what his ridiculous Sonic the Hedgehog hair looks like after a night of Perry-love?"
"Oh, my hair is awful in the morning. I need half a tub of wax to calm it down. … And of course I don't want that to happen. It would be…bad."
Oh, convincing, Buffy.
"Noo, Draculette, because you see if I said those words the universe would implode. I don't want to see any more of her than I am now, and indeed, even that is far, far too much. Can you understand that or must I translate it into Harpy?"
Oh, Lavender, you stupid girl, don't pout, you'll only encourage her.
"Oh, see, look now, Perry, you've upset your little girlfriend. Tell him you love him and you can kiss and make up."
"Dear God, what does it take to get these words through your skull? Would a hammer do? I don't love Newbie. I barely even like her."
"But you do admit you like him. Which is one step closer to like like, and we all know where that leads…"
"Yeah, Amy Wright's treehouse. The summers we had there…"
I decide I'm better off ignoring Chantelle.
"No. Nononononononooo. I don't like Jaime. We'll be leaving now."
Thankfully, Ruthie's lapdog instincts kick in, and she dutifully trots after me like the good little puppy she is.
"You can't live in denial for ever!" Swamp Thing yells after us.
"Again, Frankensteina, not denial."
"Dr. Cox, about Jordan…"
"Not a word, sugar pie."
"But Dr. Cox…"
"Unless you want me to tear out all your body hair and feed it to you, not one more word will pass your pink, sparkly lips. Not a one."
I get three blissful seconds of peace.
"You're never going to carry that out. It's important, I think, and we really need to talk about it. I'm putting…my foot…down."
And then there is a shaky and unconvincing nod.
Unfortunately, before I get the chance to appropriately punish Lisa, Bob Kelso appears in a puff of disturbing black smoke. And this time, oh joy of joys, he's brought his sweat-drenched punching bag with him.
"Dr…er, Dr. Kelso would like to know if you've given the patient the results of her tests yet. Sir, I don't see why you need me to tell him when you could just as easily tell him yourself. I need to go home. My mom promised that we'd have some time to ourselves tonight, and I really don't want to miss out."
"Ted, I think I'm doing you a favour by keeping you away from home right now. And I need you to tell him so that I seem even more intimidating when I yell at him myself."
Jemima pats Ted and mumbles something about how he could be intimidating if he just tried harder. Oh, what an excellent little camp counselor she is.
"Bobbo, you can't even intimidate your invalid wife. You've got no chance."
"Perry, just sort out the damn patient. Where the hell is Ted? He still had some spirit left in him today and I need to bully it out of him."
Veronica shrugs, and Kelso storms off, nose high in the air like a sniffer dog.
"I know where he went and I just didn't tell him."
Cue conspiratorial grin.
"Good for you, peaches."
"So, what about Jordan? Are we going to discuss this like rational adults, or…"
"Oh, don't you even talk to me about being an adult. I saw you pouting. Not even my son uses that one any more."
"I wasn't pouting! I was…scowling. Men scowl. Manly men."
I give Nicola my best 'How much more can you stretch my credibility before it completely snaps and I kill you' look.
"So…what about Jordan, then?"
I growl. It is pretty impressive, even if I say so myself. Interns two floors away from us cower.
"Yeah, I know, I know, you'll grind my bones for bread, but…don't you think if we know where we both stand on the issue…it'll be better?"
"I know where I stand, Christie, and it is as far away from you as possible, and in all honesty, I re-he-ally don't care where you stand so long as our thighs don't brush."
"Dr. Cox…I…I really don't want to say this, but…I think you should kiss me. And if you still find me as annoying and girlish as you say you do, then I'll…well, I won't talk to you for a few months, and I'll hide whenever I see you coming, and then things'll get back to normal."
I burst out laughing.
"Oh, Kiki, and they say girls can't tell jokes."
Oh look, it's yet another pathetic attempt at a glare.
"You never were going to be the high-school bitch, were you."
"You can say what you like. I'm…er…um…I'm goingtokissyounow."
I am not going to kiss Newbie. I am not going to goddamn kiss goddamn Newbie.
I'm kissing Newbie.
Damn Newbie and her damn irresistibleness!
Right, time to let her know the ground rules.
"Lookit, Gracie, since apparently this is happening, I have some rules. You know, like in Girl Scout camp? You are not to make squeaky noises, declare your love, or ever tell anyone about this whole incident. Not even Our Bald Pal, no matter how much he reminds you of a pouty, really really annoying Easter egg, 'kay? Not even if he gets all cute and pudgy again and reminds you of Buddha. So you just take off your pink, silky panties, there, Laura, and if you even try to bite me back, you will lose at least an eye. Ya written all that down in your 'Camp Diary' with the unicorns and sparkly hearts and Mrs. Perry Cox on the cover, there, princess? 'Cause you'll be needing to remember it all."
"I'm not going to sleep with you! It's not even our first date! I'm not that kind of girl! I mean guy. Definitely guy."
Monica blinks, as though the cogs in her tiny, fluffy, fluorescent pink, boy-obsessed little mind are turning.
"You…you…you like me!"
She beams like a five-year-old writing their name for the first time.
"Noo, Carlotta, agreeing to have a purely physical relationship with you is not the same as liking you. Not one bit."
"Oh, for God's sake, just admit you like me! No-one will think any less of you!"
"You better not be getting feisty with me, Mariah. Because tah-rust me on this one, I do feisty a helluva lot better than any two-bit student nurse."
"Admit it or…you'll never get a piece of this."
I do my spit-out-coffee laugh.
"Fine." she snaps.
And then she storms off like the tantrum-having, foot-stomping three-year-old she is.
"Oh…oh for the baby Jesus' sake…Caitlin, wait! I like you, you stupid little girl!"
Lord help me, I'm getting very fond of that idiotic beam.
And then she pauses and an expression of teenage-girl-in-a-cheap-horror-movie terror comes over her face.
"What about Jordan?"
"Yes, Petunia, the woman who was trying to set us up will get angry when we follow her advice."
"B-but she was kidding then! She's…she's going to chop me up into tiny pieces and put me under Dr. Kelso's floorboards!"
"Well, that's not necessarily anything to do with this. She might just want to annoy Kelso."
"I will not be used to annoy Kelso!"
"Do you want to ask for her blessing? Because given that she actually is Satan, I think that might have the same effect as placing a curse on both of us."
"Hey, Perrino. Talking about people behind their backs isn't nice."
Oh sweet bejeezus, that was alarming.
"Neither is getting your demonic master to make you appear right behind people purely to scare the hell out of them."
"Anyways, since you asked so nicely, you have my blessing to abuse, torture and generally wear down the self-esteem of Miss Congeniality here until he finally stops being so irritatingly chirpy."
"Are ya happy now?"
And an idiotic nod, two finished shifts, one appletini and five beers later, we both are. I'm guessing it won't last. I'm not sure I care right now.