A/N: Okay, screw what I said about publishing this story two or three chapters at a time. I'm gonna do it one at a time instead. I'm just not patient enough. :-)

Please R&R!

Suck it, world, John thought to himself as he hung his degree up on the wall of his new office. He had always taken a special pride in knowing that he was smarter than everyone else. He enjoyed thinking about how he was the only one of his former classmates to get a medical degree, although in reality, Joy had almost gotten one until they figured out that she had been cheating on all of her college tests. They knew this because she had called them college tests instead of examinations, which they are really called.

John really was smarter than a lot of people, and that's why he was about to start his career as a professional . . .

...plastic surgeon.

It was a reasonable career choice for someone like John. It required brains, and it paid well. About half of his patients would be gorgeous young women with distorted body images who begged him for liposuction, even when they didn't need it. Plus, maybe he would eventually find a way to make his own head a little less round.

However, none of those were the main reason he decided to be a plastic surgeon. The main reason was because John was a bully. Not only was he overly proud of how smart he was, but he also took extreme joy in making others feel insecure about themselves. And what job other than a plastic surgeon would let him get away with saying, "Oh, you know it," when a client came to him and said that she needed a nose job?

John was satisfied. He leaned back in his swiveling chair and put his feet up on his desk. This is gonna be great, he thought.

"Dr. Morris?" said a voice outside the door. It was Julie, a sexy nurse. Forget about the liposuction-crazed girls. John had felt attracted to Julie ever since he first saw her.

"Yes?" John replied flirtatiously.

"Your first patient is here," Julie's voice said.

Apparently, now was not the time to be flirtatious. John put his feet back on the floor. "Yes, of course. Bring her in, please."

The door opened, and Julie walked in, holding the arm of a tall blonde woman. The woman was squinting and trying to walk in the wrong direction. She obviously needed glasses. Julie pulled her over to a chair and sat her down.

The woman looked in Julie's direction. "Dr. Morris, I need-"

Julie cut her off. "Hon, I'm not the doctor. I'm the nurse. This-" She walked over to John and put her hands on his shoulders. It sent a spark of electricity through him "-is Dr. Morris."

"Oh." The blonde woman looked vaguely in John's direction. "Dr. Morris, I need laser eye surgery."

John was dumbfounded. Julie smiled at him and started to walk out the door. "I guess I'll be going now."

Once she was gone, John started to shake his head. "Alright, lady, I'm a plastic surgeon. You hear that? Plas-tic sur-geon. Plastic surgeons do not do laser eye surgery." Jeez, this lady is an idiot if I've ever seen one.

The woman just blinked. "But I need it. You see, I'm a model, and-"

"Psshh. A model. Well, that sure explains it," John interrupted.

The lady blinked again. "Huh?" She looked at John for a few moments, obviously confused. Then she started over as if he hadn't said anything. "You see, I'm a model, and when I model, I can't wear my glasses. That shouldn't be a problem, but I can't see anything without them. I want to look pretty, but I can't do that with my glasses, and that means I can't look pretty and see at the same time!"

She was starting to cry now. Tears were streaming down her cheeks at an alarming rate. John had only seen one other person cry like that in his whole lifetime. It reminded him of one of his favorite insults.

"There goes the leaky faucet!" he cried.

The blonde looked up. "Hmmm?" She reached into her pockets and took out a pair of glasses. She put them on and was suddenly taken aback with shock. "John?"

John was taken aback too. When the woman put her glasses on, he recognized her instantly. "Dana?" She nodded. "When did you become a model?"

"Well, when did you become an eye doctor?"

"I was never an eye doctor. I'm a plastic surgeon. Don't you listen when I talk to you?"

John and Dana hadn't interacted in a long time. They were often invited to the same parties and events due to their mutual friends, but they always went out of their way to avoid each other there. And their friends all knew how much they hated each other, so they were always careful not to talk about Dana in front of John or vice versa. The last time they had spoken to each other, in fact, was at their high school graduation, where they had alternately called each other two words that both started with a "B."

However, John had had no idea how pretty Dana had become since Wayside. Her graceful blonde hair was fluffy and curled at her shoulders. Now that she wasn't squinting, her green eyes were big and bright, and her glasses framed them nicely. It was really no wonder she was a model.

John didn't want Julie anymore. John wanted Dana.

So he told her, "But, if you do need an eye doctor, Dr. Menuda a few buildings down is a good choice. I don't think you really need eye surgery, though. Your glasses are b- beau- beautiful." It was true, but since he just recently stopped hating Dana, it was still hard for John to admit it.

Dana was not used to being complimented by John. "Okay, um, thanks . . . " John was looking her straight in the eye, something he never did.

Julie appeared at the door. "Dr. Morris, I have some papers I need you to-"

John waved her away. "Yeah, yeah, papers. I got it. Just go, okay, Julie?"

Dana stood up. "Alright, if you're not the eye doctor, I'm going to go find Dr. Menuda. Nice to see you again, John. I guess." With that, she bolted out the door, Julie walking behind her.

Damn it, John thought. I'm going to have to try a lot harder than that if I want to get some of that. He sighed and rolled his chair back to his desk.

A/N: Please review!