Hello Everyone! This is me finally getting around to uploading this story I wrote months ago at work, and I figured readers could at least get a chuckle out of my dedication to two great shows that nothing to do with each other: Scrubs and Glee.
Characters: (Glee) Sue, Kurt, Burt, Santana, Brittany, and mention of Mr. Schuester. (Scrubs) Dr. Cox, J.D., Turk, Elliot, Carla, Todd, Janitor, and cameos by a few other hospital personnel.
Summary: Kurt breaks his arm and Sue has to take him to Sacred Heart. His condition worsens and the gang has to figure out what is wrong.
Sit back and enjoy the power play of two egotistical and borderline psychotic professionals!
Dr. Percival Cox Versus One Sue Sylvester
It was a disaster. Five hours into Cheerio's practice and Kurt had fallen from the highest tier of human architecture only to break his arm, most likely the femur bone. Sue Sylvester took the liberty of yelling at him spiritedly for all of ten minutes before coming to the inevitable decision that she would have to escort him to the hospital herself.
No questions were asked when she ordered a limo as their ride to the closest hospital: Sacred Heart. It was Coach Sylvester after all, so Kurt humbly crawled into the luscious back seat, using the wine cooler to prop his injured arm delicately. He spent the rest of the trip shivering uncomfortably as Sue relentlessly stared at him and made small comments about how he would be expected to keep doing back flips and pom-pom twirls regardless of what any 'physician' said.
After a grueling ordeal of arriving at the hospital, checking in, and making sure it was specifically noted that she, Sue Sylvester, was in fact the local celebrity and six consecutive winning national Cheerio coach, Kurt was given a room to wait for his assigned doctor.
A middle-aged man with curly, toffee brown hair and a hard jaw line rocketed into the room with overreaching steps as his white lab coat floated around him the way a superhero's might. He stood square-shouldered beside Kurt's bed and bent slightly over the chart. A younger man trailed behind him with wide, admiring eyes while wearing navy blue scrubs. His hair was gelled into a metro look that he hoped would distract from his enormous Adam's apple.
"Ooooookay, here we have a sixteen-year-old with a moderate arm fracture who is accompanied by an internationally-ranked cheerleading coach?" He turned the last part into a question, looking up in confusion at Sue Sylvester's smug grin. "You're the coach? Really. And I thought the tracksuit was just for show." He tucked the medical chart under one arm and tapped the tip of his nose with the opposite forefinger. "Dr. Cox at your service, and I'll be running this show from here on out."
"Well, you better just turn around and march your alpha dog demeanor out the door this instant. I demand a new physician because I will not stand for you. I've said it once. I will say it again. Sue Sylvester does not trust a man with curly hair," Sue stated with unnecessary emphasis on the last word.
"Aaand I don't trust a woman with a superiority complex and an overly-hairy swamp rat on her head, but we Just. Can't. Get. What. We. Want," Cox replied, throwing his hands in a mock tantrum with every extended syllable. His voice rose to falsetto like a toddler on the verge of tears as he said, "It's just too hard. Boo…hoo…hoo." Cox waggled his fists under his eyes to simulate waterfall tears streaming down.
Sue leaned in uncomfortably close, trying to get the machismo doctor to shift away, and muttered, "You think this is hard. I'm about to shove a laxative so far up your ass you'll feel it between your shoulder blades. And that's hard."
Kurt shifted awkwardly under his hospital bed sheets and squeaked, "Coach Sylvester, now might not be the appropriate time to antagonize my doctor. Given that this break needs to be repaired quickly, it might be in both of our best interests to…"
"Quiet, Ladyface, I'm just finding the diplomatic solution," Sue intoned, yanking the bottom hem of her track suit and drawing up to look down at the arrogant P. H. D.
"Say Keesha, why don't you take the champ's advice and set the lad up for surgery. Mum-mee and dad-dee are talking," Dr. Cox said, throwing a look to his assistant doctor, who was standing in the corner reeking of nervous sweat and mango body-oil. The youngster even jumped a little and said, "Right-o, Perry." The older man groaned like an irritated grizzly bear.
"For the record, I was talking to my effeminate Cheerio lying in that bed, but nice to know you hold your colleagues in such esteem," Sue smirked, cocking one eyebrow higher than the other.
The mousse-haired attending trotted up to Kurt and whispered, "John Dorian: most of my patients live. And if I might add, your hair is glorious." He leaned in close to the male cheerleader and inhaled quickly, a smile spreading across his face at whatever fragrance was wafting from the counter-tenor's locks.
"I'll pretend not to vomit at that lovely exchange of gayness, if only to comment that with a name like Percival, I should be able to expect a bit more modesty from you. I guess not," Sue said, allowing her eyes to wander from his name badge to a full up and down examination of his personal space.
"Tell you what, Susie-Q, I'm going to pretend you did not just say that, flip open my handy-dandy chart, and wait for my complimentary reach-around. You see, I expect it these days because I'm just that good," Dr. Cox whistled sharply at J.D. who was now admiring Kurt's flawless skin texture as he prepped the broken arm. "Newbie, come."
The two doctors stepped outside the room and once out of earshot, Dr. Cox turned to J.D. and said, "Listen, Stella, I don't care what she says or threatens you with, do not trust a word that woman says. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," J.D. smiled agreeably. "Now Dr. Cox, do you think it's true he sang Celine for their nationals competition? Because I've always loved—"
The taller man whistled again and asked, "When did I ever give you the indication I care about what you have to say?" He twisted his mouth crooked and snarled, stalking away.
"Just get Turtlehead to do the simple procedure, and it'd be super if he could do it without killing the poor young bastard. Mmmmk?" Dr. Cox called over his shoulder.
I better go find Turk, J.D. thought to himself, and cocked his head to the side as he strolled away, unperturbed by his mentor's unorthodox behavior.
Author's Notes: Next Chapter will be up tomorrow! Please review, even if simply to say you read it and liked it. Thanks!