Ah, here it gets a little more interesting. . . I hope I can get this chapter written and posted before the battery on my laptop needs to be recharged. . .

4

It was nearing 10:00 pm and J.D.'s muscles were finally giving in from the torment of the day. They ached from having to dodge the temper tantrum of a five year old kid. The kid wasn't even the patient, either.

Let's go. . . one more minute. . . one more minute. . .

J.D. watched the clock carefully while he pretended to be looking at a chart. He squeaked with glee when the big hand on the clock landed on the twelve.

"A little anxious to leave, are we Ginger?" Dr. Cox approached J.D.

"Yeah, I guess so. Long day."

"Lucky you. I'm here for another three hours." Dr. Cox complained and when J.D. went to be apologetic, Dr. Cox silenced him. "Shhh. . . I don't need you're sympathy. Just go." He motioned J.D. off.

J.D. took his time walking down the hallway before remembering he promised to go out for a drink with Michael. He sped up suddenly, without realizing he was doing it, and was down to the first floor in no time.

Michael was sitting in one of the waiting are a chairs reading a magazine. Michael looked up and when he saw J.D., he stood so quickly, he stumbled over his own feet.

Michael blushed as J.D. laughed and the two walked to each other, meeting somewhere in the middle of the hallway and the door.

"You look really tired." Michael pointed out first. "Maybe we should reconsider." He offered politely, even though J.D. could see that wasn't what Michael wanted.

"Nah, I'm okay. Just a five year old with a temper tantrum. Always takes a lot of you. Never seems to do a thing to the kid. They must project it. . onto. . .you." J.D. found himself babbling and he slowed down as he tried to pretend it was a joke.

"Not as bad as an old man with amnesia and a farting problem." Michael shot back as the two walked out the front door.

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The bar was slightly empty and J.D. was rather relieved to see nobody he recognized hanging about. They removed their coats and went to sit right at the bar. J.D. couldn't stop himself from yawning and was too slow to hide it from Michael.

"Sure, you're "okay"." Michael put "okay" in quotes. "I saw that yawn."

"Yeah, well. . ." J.D. tried to think of something clever but the bartender interrupted his musing.

"What can I get you two?" the man asked sincerely, but J.D. could tell he was tired from a long day. They made their orders and waited, both unsure of what to say. J.D. finally asked the first question that came to mind.

"What part of a chocolate rabbit do you eat first?" J.D. leaned his head in his hand and forced his eyes to stay open. Michael looked startled and amused by the question and waited for the drinks to arrive before realizing J.D. was serious and also to tired to notice that he took 10 minutes to answer.

"The ears. You?"

"Same. I nibble them off, real slow and then yell at it. Never hears a word I say." J.D. smiled calmly and Michael wondered what J.D. was like drunk if he acted this way when he was sleepy.

"Well, that's. . . interesting to know." Michael sipped his drink while J.D. just chugged it down. Michael shrugged and followed suit, making a face when he completed the task. J.D. yawned once more.

Why am I still here? I'm about to fall asleep in my empty glass, so why am I still here?

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Twenty minutes and four more drinks later, Michael finally gave up trying to keep J.D. awake. He paid the bartender and thanked him before shaking J.D. to get him to stand up. J.D. let Michael lead him out the bar but took over once the crisp air of the night hit his face.

"Hey, how'd I get here?" J.D. looked around.

"I brought you outside. You were about to fall asleep on the bar. You were also drooling slightly. Didn't help much." Michael dug his hands into his pockets. J.D. attempted to laugh but nothing came out. "Maybe I should accompany you home."

"No, I think I can ride the bus by myself, thanks." J.D. stood by the bus stop and blinked his eyes furiously to stop from falling asleep standing up. Michael gently moved to J.D.'s side and smiled.

"I'm sure you can, but I don't want to risk you falling asleep on some business man's shoulder and drooling on his expensive coat."

--fantasy-- J.D. is thrown out of the window of the moving bus by a very angry business man with a soaking wet jacket. --end fantasy--

"Whose shoulder do you suggest I fall asleep on then? An old woman with a hairy chin who smells of mothballs and tuna?" J.D. heard himself sarcastically ask as he saw the bus round the corner. Michael pulled out some change to pay for the ride.

"That was oddly. . . specific. But no, I'd suggest you fall asleep on my shoulder, actually."

The bus squealed to a stop and the doors pulled open with creaking age. The bus coughed smoke and looked as if it would fall apart if stepped on the wrong way. J.D. was too sleepy to pay close attention to what Michael had said as he climbed onto the bus.

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The rest of the ride went uneventful and as predicted, J.D. fell asleep on Michael's shoulder. With what he could remember, he was very comfortable and wondered why he was so tired. Maybe he had been at work longer than he thought.

Twenty minutes later, J.D. felt himself being woken up and pulled up by his arm. It was a gentle tug, but still a forceful reminder that if he didn't move, the bus would leave with them still in it. It almost did, but Michael managed to stop the driver, an old man who had the appearance of driving with his eyes closed.

I wonder if Turk and Carla are home. How do I explain showing up at the door practically falling asleep on Michael's shoulder. . .

J.D.'s thoughts were interrupted by the presence of a green door he finally registered to be his own.

"You have a key, right?" Michael laughed as he watched J.D. fumble with his pockets.

"I think so. . . I hope." J.D. dug into the dark, lint filled recesses of his pants and coat pockets before feeling something familiar. He pulled out the key and held it up. "Ta-da! It's magic." J.D. joked.

It's magic? What am I, five years old?

"I like magic." Michael moved closer to J.D. and put a hand on his arm. J.D. wasn't sure what to do and didn't suspect what Michael did next. J.D. felt the lips on his and they were soft and airy. Both of them being slightly drunk and tired, the kiss wasn't perfect and rather sloppy.

J.D. heard someone clear their throat and he finally pulled away to see Carla standing in the open doorway, staring.

"J.D.?" she asked, non believing. Michael's face fell, but his eye widened as he began to stammer.

"Oh. . . I. . . I'm so sorry!" Michael looked like he was going to cry as he ran away down the stairs of the building. J.D. resisted the urge to follow and instead turned to Carla.

"What was that? You want to talk. . ." Carla began but J.D. just pushed past and headed for his room. Turk walked sleepily out of the room he was in with Carla.

"What's going on, baby?" Turk rubbed his eyes and slipped an arm around her waist. Carla stared at J.D.'s closed door and sighed.

"Nothing. Let's go back to bed."

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I promise this will get a little more interesting. I want to get into the good stuff, but not too quickly so that's why this seems to be moving slowly. O.o