Title" My Wish"
Pairing: JD/Cox
Rating: NC-17, or M. For the sake of I'll try to keep the really dirty chapters in line w/ the new ratings guide.
Summary: Set during Season 3, episode 9, JD and Cox are fighting over who has to sleep on the floor of JD's apartment. Suddenly, Dr. Cox has a very creative idea.
Author's Note: This is my very first fan fiction ever. I tried to make it as in-character and consistent with the tone of the show as possible.
There's an old saying that goes: "be careful what you wish for." It means that sometimes the very thing you think you want ends up being nothing like you expected. Like the time Dr. Kelso gave up a golf weekend to stay at the hospital, because he heard that a "young Korean dancer" was a new patient.
(Dr. Kelso enters a hospital room, spraying Binaca, and grinning. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees a slim Asian man wearing a bodysuit, with his leg in traction.)
Or when Elliot thinks that she'd be much happier with a boyfriend than alone…
(Elliot sits at a romantic restaurant, rolling her eyes while her date drones on and on: "And THEN, even though I was only second in my class at Yale, I landed an internship with the most prestigious law firm in Connecticut…")
As for me, I've always prided myself on knowing exactly what I want, and preparing for the worst. That's why I can't figure out how I ended up here, fighting with Dr. Cox over who had to sleep on the floor of my apartment. You see, I'd always dreamed of the day that Dr. Cox would feel comfortable enough with me to just barge into Turk's and my apartment, like we were buddies. I just didn't expect him to do it because he was mad at me. I also didn't expect him to kick me out of my own room. And I definitely didn't expect to be standing in my bedroom, arguing with the one person I'd always idolized, over something like this…
"So, you see, Newbie, had I not listened to you about telling my shrew of an ex-wife just exactly how I feel, I'd be sitting at home right now with a beer in one hand, the remote in the other, and Jordan's head in my lap.That is why I am going to sleep here, in your bed, which smells disturbingly of lilacs, and you are going to sleep out there, on the floor." He cocked his thumb towards the door and stood defiantly, arms folded across his chest.
I knew that if I could just convince him to see my side of things, he'd give in. Ok, say something clever but manly. Be assertive!
"It's my fabric softener." Not like that. Dr. Cox stared at me incredulously, so I continued: "My…fabric softener is what smells. It's not lilacs. It's…lavender and vanilla. It's supposed to help you sleep..." I trailed off. Dr. Cox massaged his temples with his fingertips before speaking.
"I'm just going to go ahead and ignore everything you just said, because, by acknowledging it, I'd be causing my blood pressure to rise, and I will not let you be responsible for my early death, even though it would be my supreme pleasure to haunt you for the rest of your ever-living days." He whistled sharply and pointed at me, gesturing towards the bed.
"Sit." I sat.
"Now, because I'm such a nice guy, I'm going to make this fair. We'll have a little contest. The winner gets to sleep on the bed, which, by the way, when I win, will immediately be doused with the least girly scent I can find in your pre-pubescent girly sanctuary here. The loser—you—will have to sleep on the floor—which, just so we're clear, is not the floor of the bedroom—with the dead dog."
I smiled, before I could stop myself.
See? He's a good guy. He won't let me sleep on the cold floor. Behind that hard shell, Dr. Cox is a big softie, like me. I let myself drift off, imagining Dr. Cox in a field of daisies, holding a wriggling puppy and grinning. I was just starting to hear the strains of Lakme's "Flower Duet" How did I know that's what it was called? when a harsh beep next to my ear interrupted my daydream.
"Ouch!" When my eyes focused, I saw Dr. Cox, holding my alarm clock.
"Nice to have you back with us, Shirley. Can I continue, or are you still picturing what you'd look like with hair extensions?"
They'd be luxurious and soft.
"Yes—I mean, no—I mean, sorry. I'm listening."
"As I was saying, we're going to have a little contest here. We're going to settle this just like men have been settling disputes since the Stone Age." At that, I smirked.
(JD, dressed as a caveman, complete with beard and fur man-dress, brandishes a mastodon drumstick. "Rules simple. First to finish mastodon leg sleep with nice saber-tooth tiger. Loser sleep with Randy The Widowmaker." Caveman Dr. Cox nods. "Aaaand, GO!")
Wait! I don't even know if I like mastodon meat. What if Dr. Cox won't let me put bleu cheese on it? I snapped back to reality in time to hear what Dr. Cox actually had in mind.
"We're going to whip 'em out. The bigger man wins."