So, what do you guys think so far? Are these countless hours of revision worth the trouble? I certainly hope so. Because the letter labels on my keyboard are disappearing from extensive use.

Okay, without further ado, Chapter 4 of 15. (Almost 1/3 of the way to the end of this two-year project.) Peachy.

Dr. Cox stood there for several minutes with his arms crossed loosely across his chest. His mind was spinning with so many thoughts that he was unable to sort through them and come up with anything coherent. All he could do was blink, breathe, and wonder why he felt so breakable at this moment.

JD eventually decided to break the silence. "Perry? You okay?" His voice dripped with concern.

"Never been better," Dr. Cox responded robotically, turning slowly around to look down at his protégé. He walked over and snatched the fluffy white washcloth from the tray. "Come 'ere, you look like a Dr. Acula," he chided.

JD's eyes lit up at this comment. "You read my screenplay?" he queried through smiling pink lips.

"Yes. Yes, I did. And I was able to suppress the resulting suicidal impulses," Perry retorted, wiping the dried blood from JD's chin. Old habits die hard, and berating the younger doctor had long ago been cemented in his daily routine.

Rolling his eyes, JD blew air through partially closed lips. "Cut it out, that tastes awful," he protested.

Perry persisted, wiping JD's upper lip clean. "Clam up, Newbie," he grumbled playfully.

JD chuckled and grabbed the washcloth. "This rag tastes like potato skins in a dishwater marinade," he insisted. And he had shoved the washcloth between Perry's lips before the older doctor could even blink.

Dr. Cox sat there for a moment, utterly shocked by this uncharacteristically bold gesture, before the revolting taste of generic laundry detergent seeped into his tongue. He yanked the washcloth out of his mouth and tossed it over his shoulder without a second thought.

Splat.

Dr. Zeltzer had been strolling past the door, fantasizing about prostitutes and Cheese Whiz, when a rogue washcloth filled his field of vision. He peeled the dripping square of fabric from his face, cursed under his breath, and returned to his daydream.

JD and Perry simultaneously burst into hysterics. They both had tears of laughter pooling in their eyes when JD regained the ability to speak. "What are the odds?" he chuckled rhetorically.

JD wiped the moisture from his cheeks and cleared his throat. "Hey, Dr. Cox."

"What, Newbie?"

"I need to talk to you."

Perry glanced over at the younger doctor. The smile had faded from his face. "About what?"

"About... this. And me. And if things go wrong-"

Dr. Cox spontaneously sprung to his feet. "Hey, I think I'm gonna go dig up those test results of yours." He glanced back briefly. "You okay on your own?"

Every cell in JD's body protested as he nodded his head.

Meanwhile, Dr. Elliot Reid was standing beside the threshold of the laboratory, biting her fingernails frantically. Her newest patient, a seventeen-year-old girl named Louisa Dalton, was complaining of vomiting, abdominal pains, and swelling of the ankles and feet. Normally, Elliot would have handed her over to obstetrics and gynecology without a second thought, but Louisa's parents made her nervous. Strict Christians, and thus strict believers in abstinence. It wasn't going to bode well for Louisa if she was pregnant.

At that moment, Dr. Cox stormed through the doorway. Elliot could have sworn he had tears glistening in his eyes; maybe it was a trick of the light. He slammed the door behind him, and Elliot counted to ten before pressing her ear against it.

"Listen up, Buddy. You are going to find John Dorian's test results before I can recite the alphabet." His voice dropped to a menacing growl. "Failure to do so will result in the instantaneous insertion of your head into that beaker." He motioned to a glass jar perched on a shelf that was six sizes too small to contain a human head comfortably. But Perry hadn't said anything about comfort.

A panic-stricken Franklin scrambled to his file cabinet as Dr. Cox somberly sang the alphabet song. At "E,F,G," Franklin had located the correct drawer. It took him until "L,M,N,O,P," to find the D section. And Dr. Cox was closing in on "T,U,V" when Franklin extracted the file labeled "Dorian, John".

"Found it!" he exclaimed, a pre-adolescent voice crack interrupting his words.

Dr. Cox stretched his upper lip over his teeth and snatched the folder from the lab tech's fingers. "W,X,Y,Z," he whispered menacingly, and Franklin sprinted out of the lab with a look of genuine terror on his face.

Chuckling softly, Perry directed his attention to the folder in his hands. He leaned against the counter top and opened the file.

It wasn't difficult to locate the word Positive printed in bright green ink.

Dr. Cox let the chart slip between his fingers and wordlessly walked out the door.

Previous offers of cyberhugs and virtual cookies still apply if you give in to my shameless review-whoring.

~JD