Scrubs

My Idea Of The Norm

No. This is not a Perry/JD pairing fic. I like to call those Jerrys. Hahaha! Lame... Anyways. This is only a story with an OC. And that is all.

By the way, I forgot the midget that hangs out with Janitor's name, but I think it's Morris. So, I'm gonna call him Morris.

Disclaimer: I do not own Scrubs.

Maxien Lear-Sullivan was fifteen years old. Shoulder-length, wavy brown hair and bangs that cut right below her eyebrows. Her eyes were a pale blue and she wore a jacket the same color of her eyes every day, with blue jeans, army boots and a random shirt; she never really cared to check what was on it. Always, a digital camera could be found, handing from her wrist by a lanyard.

All-in-all, she didn't care too much about her appearance. In fact, she looked like her father. A very girlie Ben.

Perry stared at Max from across the lunch room table. Not just a regular stare. He stared hard. And didn't break that stare for anything.

Eyes narrow, directing his question towards Jordan, Perry said, "How'd you figure this out?"

"She was escorted by this older man, said he was her uncle. And, what an attractive uncle he was..." Max made a face, sticking a finger in her mouth, as to say 'Gross!' "He gave me a note and just walked away."

"Yeah..." Max mumbled. "Uncle Chris was never too good with explanations..."

She raised her eyebrows at Perry. "Um... why is he staring at me like that?"

"Oh, Hun, your Uncle Perry's what we like to call 'Clinically Insane,'" Jordan said, turning towards Max.

"Oooh... I see it now..." She lifted her digital camera, snapping a picture of Perry. The flash made him blink, but he didn't break his glare.

"Why should I believe you?" Perry asked.

Max brought her glance from Perry to Jordan, back to Perry again. "Oh!" she yelled, "You're talking to me this time?!"

Perry rolled his eyes.

"Well, um..." Max thought, tapping her foot on the floor. "I really don't know. I know who my mother told me my father was, and that was Ben Sullivan. And, if he's not my father, then I'm not sure who is."

"Speaking of," Jordan said, turning her chair to face the teenager. "Where is your mother?"

Max raised her camera, taking a picture of Jordan. "She's dead."

"Okay, Max, I'm gonna give you three seconds to explain this whole thing to me before I tear you a new one. You've given me no proof that you could in any way, shape, or form be my dead best friend's daughter. And I'm re-heally ready to punch you in the face."

"Ooh, dude. You totally just wasted my three seconds with that little rant..." Max frowned, sarcastically, and slowly let in melt into a familiar grin.

Yeah, she smiled just like Ben. Perry sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his hands through his curly hair. "Just explain."

"Well," Max began, "I do have this..." She reached into her jacket's front pocket, pulling out a small square of paper attached to a picture. She handed it to Perry, who snatched it from her hand.

He inhaled heavily, and exhaled the same. In the picture was Ben, next to a toddler. It was obvious that Ben was holding the camera when the picture was taken, due to the confused look on the child's face. He removed the staple attaching the small paper to the picture. There was a short note written on it.

Maxie,

My name's Ben. I'm your father. But, I'm not gonna be around too much. I hope you can forgive me for that.

- Ben

It was Ben's hand writing. She was Ben's daughter...

"Get this," Max said, leaning over the table, slipping the picture from Perry's fingers. "He wasn't around too much."

Perry nodded. "Okay, okay. So, what if you really are Ben's daughter? What's that gotta do with me and Jordan here?"

Stood up from the table. "Well," she began, "Jordan here's my only blood relative left."

Jordan rolled her eyes, like she didn't really care.

"Frick! Frickity-frick-frick!" She blew her hair out of her face and sighed as she ran past the Nurse's Station.

What a no-good rotten day this was turning to be. She'd fell asleep with gum in her mouth, and woke up with gum in her hair, and now everything Elliot was looking for seemed to be missing.

"Has anyone seen Mr. Rudd's chart's?!" she yelled, shuffling, quickly through the halls. She spotted a dazed JD and grabbed him by the shoulders. "JD! Have you seen Mr. Rudd's charts?!"

JD blinked. "No," he said. "I'm kinda... looking for someone right now though..." He broke from her grip and walked off, wobbling from what Elliot thought was shock.

She blew at her hair again, which wasn't in her face. "Frick!"

Click!

"Nice one! Neurotic, crazed type attitude!"

Elliot snapped her head around, blinking from the flash of the camera. "Did you just take a picture of me?!" she yelled.

Max smiled. "Yeah! It's pretty good! Check it out!" She strolled over to Elliot and held out the camera.

Elliot looked at it. She looked... insane. Well, that wasn't a surprise. "Why are you taking random pictures?!"

"Why are you yelling?" Max asked, sarcastically, making a sarcastic face at her.

"Just answer the question, you little weirdo!"

Max made a face, bracing her white teeth and then smiled. "'Cause I don't like posed pictures."

The anger on Elliot's face dissolved into realization. "Oh my goodness!" she yelled, a smiling playing at her lips. "You're Ben's daughter?!"

Max lifted an eyebrow. "How do you figure?"

Elliot hopped up and down, giggling like a school girl. "You take random pictures, and you look just like him!"

"Oh, I look like a dead guy... That's a compliment now?" Max leaned against her elbow.

Elliot's smile slowly faded. "But... I was just..."

Max cut her off, laughing a little too loudly. "Just kidding around, crazy lady!" She took another picture and looked down on the counter next to her. "Oh, would'ja look at that?!" She lifted a chart, handing it to Elliot. "Mr. Rudd's charts. There ya go!"

And Max skipped off.

"W-wait!" Elliot yelled.

Max stopped, spinning around and heading back her way. "Yesum?"

"What's your name?" Elliot asked, tilting her head.

"Max," she said, smiling. "What about you?"

Elliot smiled brightly. "Elliot!"

Max lifted a finger, limply, bringing it to Elliot's four head. "Elllllliiiiiooooottttt," she slurred.

"Stop that..." Elliot mumbled.

"Eeeelllliiiiooottttt!"

"Quit it!"

"Eeeeeeeeeellllllllliiiiiiooooootttttt!"

"Stop it! I am not E.T.!!" Elliot screeched.

"Okay, Morris, gimme the bowling ball now..."

Janitor had just finished painting a number of bowling pins to look just like Scooter.

The small man handed his pal a bowling ball that was painted with the face of Black Surgeon.

"I call this the Scooter-Pie, Black-Surgeon bowling game."

Janitor held the ball in front of his face, lining the ball with the pins. He took a step back, standing on his toes. He was gonna hit the Fred Flinstone style. "Get ready, Morris." He started forward, swinging the ball behind his back, and-

"Shouldn't you wait for them to dry?"

"Whoa!" Janitor dropped the ball, it landing on his foot. "Ow! Ow, ow, ow!"

Max bared her teeth again. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Janitor hissed in a breath. "Ooooouch." He sat down on the floor, almost instantly disreguarding his foot. "Whatdaya mean 'wait for them to dry?'" he asked, suspiciously.

Max sat down in front of him. "Well, if you just go ahead and smack that bowling ball into those pins, the ones you just painted are gonna smudge on the bowling ball, yo. Then you'll have a weird looking bowling ball and a couple weird looking pins too. And, no one wants that. Right, my dawg?"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"That 'gangsta talk' thing."

"Oh. Can-do, boss."

"Boss?" Janitor asked. "I like that. You're a good kid."

Max smiled. "I've been told..."