Title: Beer, More Beer and Assumptions
Summary: Babies, peppermint foot lotion and harpies: no changes there, then. Jordan/Cox, JD/Cox hints.
Spoilers: set post S5 finale (for the sake of brevity, the last minute or so of E25 never happened. I'll deal with it once we know what on earth's going on!)
Rating: PG-13 for language
Feedback: constructive criticism and feedback is adored.
*
I don't know why I thought that Jordan's second pregnancy would make no difference. I mean, sure, Dr Cox might actually make me a godfather for real this time around - and, just so we're clear, I would totally rock as a godfather.
An image flashes into existence: I am wearing an impeccably cut Italian suit, and holding a dribbling baby in one hand and a fish in the other. "Don J.D., we have come to say how much you rock," Elliott-a and Turk-ina said, curtseying. Behind me, Dr Cox was smoking a cigar and slicking his gelled hair back.
OK, Dr Cox with slick hair is actually kinda creepy, let's never think of that again.
Anyway, seeing as how we're a team now, and how I'd dragged him back from the exceedingly black pits of despair, it was time for him to formalise our commitment as partners. No, as partners. Not those kind of -
Never mind.
"The she-devil is having an orgy with pointless gifts and cake-eating and I suddenly find myself in the position of being happier eating my own foot than venturing inside my own house. Yes, this is what married bliss must feel like, and I am e-he-hespecially chipper about the impending return of baby vomit across my sofa. Get your coat, newbie; we're going to the bar." I was quietly impressed at how Dr Cox managed to not slow down even a tiny bit as he said this, forcing me to keep up with him at a brisk jog as he shed his T-shirt and aimed it roughly in the direction of the laundry basket.
I love our post-shift time in the locker room.
"Newbie!" he barked. "Are you planning to leer at me some more or are you going to actually get your sweet little ass in gear?"
"I'm moving!" And I was. I was quick, and efficient, and also managed to confirm in the far mirror that my ass? Is definitely sweet. Result!
*
OK, so when Dr Cox said, "we're going to the bar," I sort of assumed that we'd be going to an actual bar. Instead, I'm in Dr Cox's apartment, drinking Bud and squashed between Jordan's scary best friends while Dr Cox and Jordan do 'things' in the other room.
Yes. 'Things'.
"He's probably sliding into her right now," Harpy #1 said, sipping her gin and tonic. "Perry always was one for skipping the foreplay. I could never abide that in a man."
"No, sweetie, I'm sure he's not going to actually fuck her while we're in the other room," Harpy #2 said, looking at me with an Evil (tm) expression and doing something Very Very Wrong with the olive in her drink. "He'll probably just go down on her." She sighed. "He really is very good at that."
"Oh, yes, it's one of the few reasons I tolerate him," Harpy #1 said, while I tried to avoid swallowing my beer bottle. She put her hand on my thigh and eased it upwards towards my Special Area. "It's amazing what a little head will do for my mood."
"I have to go drink now!" I squeaked and jumped to my feet.
To my left: Dr Cox having (evidently silent) sex with Jordan.
To my right: Harpy #1 and Harpy #2, happy on too many cocktails and looking at me in all the wrong ways.
No exits.
"Oh sweet Jesus, what did I say about molesting the lad?" My saviour! Dr Cox emerged from the bathroom, wiping his hands on a towel and looking entirely too composed for a man who's just been to the Happy Place. "Don't touch Bettina until she's legal," he said, and swatted at both Harpies with the tail end of the towel. They jumped away - possibly it was soaked in holy water? Must investigate later.
Jordan stuck her head out from behind the bedroom door. "Perry, can you pick up some more of that foot-rub lotion thing on your way home?"
"Oh light of my life, fire of my loins, unholy beast of the nether world, I'm going to a bar. Are cosmetics shops usually open at 3am?" He hugged her briefly and handed me my coat. I practically sprained a limb pulling it on: the Harpies were still looking at me.
Like evil desert birds, they circle warily, waiting for the weaker members of the herd to falter. Then - they devour him!
Harpy #1 licked her lips.
Must. Escape.
I didn't hear Jordan's reply as we left the apartment, too busy dodging Harpy #1's wandering hands. As we stood in the elevator, it also occurred to me that post-coital men don't smell of peppermint lotion, so Dr Cox had possibly not just had sex after all.
"I waited for you," I said reproachfully in the elevator ride down. "Those women wanted to do things to me in the meantime."
"You could have yelled 'rape'," Dr Cox said reasonably.
*
So, here's the thing. I'm sitting in a bar, drinking beer and trying to pretend like nothing has happened. Maybe it hasn't; maybe Dr Cox will ask me out for a drink again one of these days. Maybe he'll continue saving me from terrifying women. Actually, come to think of it, doesn't Jordan do that as well? No, that's the place where Scary Thoughts live. Come back to the light, J.D.
Or maybe, things really have changed.
Dr Cox hugs Jordan briefly, and it takes my brain a full hour to process it: Jordan's slick bare feet, and the gentle swell of her stomach. It takes even longer to see Dr Cox's hand press carefully against Jordan's belly, fingers splayed to feel the heat of the life inside.
Dr Cox's hands smell of peppermint foot lotion and Jordan is smiling and maybe change isn't such a bad thing. "You know, Jennifer's a good name for a girl," I said.
"You will have no part to play in the naming of the fruit of my loins, newbie. Drink your girly beer."
Heh. He said 'loins'.
*
fin