A/N: Chapter two! Bonus points to anyone who sees where I'm going with the chapter titles. I'm going to try to have another chapter of this (it's mostly written already) and a chapter of Our Vaycay up this week. Thanks all for reading, I love those of you who have reviewed, and hope this chapter will help sustain those of you who have to go on vacation through the hard summery months ahead (*nudge andaere* :D )
Disclaimer: I don't own Scrubs or the characters written about herein. I also don't own MXC, though I frickin' love it. "Let's get it on" indeed!
Warnings: Li'l bit of cussing.
His Limits –His Interval
Perry hesitated just outside the threshold to the apartment, feeling like an intruder. What seemed to be two happy couples moved around inside. He could hear JD sorting through the bottles he'd brought with him, and saw Elliot sitting on the couch, flipping through the television channels with the remote. Turk sat relaxing in an overstuffed chair, guffawing; Carla walked over to him, handed him a beer, and sat in his lap. He watched them exchange a sweet kiss and looked away, embarrassed.
"He still just standing there?" Turk muttered quietly. He popped the top off of his beer and drank deeply, tossing the cap onto the coffee table.
Carla elbowed him. "Be nice. You promised." She glanced sidelong at Perry, watching him scratch the back of his neck and then shove his hands into his jacket pockets. "He'll come in. Give him a minute." She kissed Turk on the nose and turned to Elliot, chatting about what station they should watch.
It took more than just a minute, but Perry eventually made it in. He shut the door quietly, waving in greeting to the three in the living room. Shedding his coat, he walked stiffly towards the kitchen, once again loitering just outside. JD had his back to him, humming loudly, scooping ice and tossing it into a blender along with pineapple juice and the rum he'd brought. Perry opened his mouth, about to spout some offhanded comment about girly drinks when JD switched on the blender, drowning out his intentions as well as the conversation in the living room and whatever was on the television. With a shrug, Perry leaned against the wall, waiting for his opportunity to jolt JD back to reality. He wouldn't dare startle him with the blender going. That would just end up with somebody sliced to ribbons and a lot of decent alcohol going to waste.
A feminine hand touched his shoulder, and Perry turned to see Carla. She raised herself on her tiptoes so Perry leaned down to accommodate her. "Thanks for coming, Perry," she said in his ear. "We're even now." She gave him her prettiest smile and reached past him into the fridge, selecting another couple of beers before making her way back to the living room.
He sighed. Carla had always had his number, it was true. But he had also owed her one for a long time, and she'd finally called in the favor. The kid damn well better appreciate this. I could've gotten out of this if I wanted to. Well, wait a minute there. Which is worse, not being able to get out of this, or not wanting to? Crap, I need another drink. Perry snagged the fresh bottle of scotch, just out of JD's line of vision, and cracked it open. Number five. Now we're talking.
The scotch washed over him immediately, relaxing him a bit. His vision began to blur around the edges, so he narrowed his focus to something in the middle of his field of view. He stared at the back of JD's t-shirt. It appeared to be years old and well-worn, the collar fraying in places. The tag was sticking up, so faded that he couldn't make out a single word on it. JD began to bob his head back and forth to whatever tune he was humming, causing the tag to rub against his skin. Perry frowned at the offending piece of cloth. Oddly, his hand came into view; without realizing it he had been reaching toward the tag and his fingers were now inches from it. The blender cut out suddenly, jolting Perry and causing him to deepen his scowl, but it wasn't enough to deter him from his inebriated mission. So he extended his arm the final distance and, against his better, less inebriated judgment, carefully tucked the tag back under JD's shirt.
JD's hand flew to the back of his neck, checking to see what had happened. He whirled around and spotted Perry, smiling brightly.
Perry flushed and opened his mouth, and for the second time nothing came out. Instead JD looked past him and said, "Thanks, Elliot. Drinks are almost ready." He turned back to his project and began to pour the frozen concoction into four tall glasses.
A look of confusion passed between Perry and Elliot. He decided sourly (Really, Perry, really?) that JD must have thought she had fixed his tag. She held an armful of empty bottles, probably the reason she thought he was thanking her. Shrugging, she opened the cabinet under the sink and tossed them into the can before wobbling back to rejoin Carla and Turk.
Perry watched as JD carefully (lovingly?) garnished the drinks with cherries and tiny umbrellas, and finally broke his silence. "Well now, how many drinks have you had so far tonight, Pumpkin? Am I going to have to bar you from using the heavy machinery there for the rest of the night, or are you going to be a good girl and let me man the bar?"
Snickering, JD glanced over his shoulder. "This makes four, but the other three were just a couple of wussy beers, so I'm okay for now. But after this one, oh boy, watch out! I made 'em strong and manly and delicious!" He sipped from one to demonstrate and ended up wheezing through his mouth. "Strong like bull! Woo! Want one?" He waved the glass in front of Perry's face in an attempt to tantalize the man into taking a drink.
"Hell no. Your drink is manly like Elizabeth Manley is manly." Perry took a gulp from his bottle of scotch and retaliated, waving it under JD's nose. "Want some of this instead? It'll put some hair on your chest, which, you know, would give the one you have now some company."
JD sulked and turned away. "You know I can't drink that stuff," he said quietly. He faced Perry again, holding up two fresh drinks. "Give these to Carla and Elliot, will you? And if you change your mind, there's extra in the blender still."
Perry scoffed at the offer and took the drinks, leaving an almost sullen JD in the kitchen. He handed off the drinks to the ladies and sat on the far end of the couch, leaving a large gap between himself and Elliot. Christ, this is going to be a painful evening. Can't even mock Cupcake like usual without her threatening to burst into tears. Okay, wipe off the slate here before Carla gets wind of it and breaks the deal. "Alright," he groaned as he settled back, "you guys got me. What the hell is that on the television?"
"Dude, Dr. Cox, it's MXC!" Turk said in his most excited-yet-still-a-brother way. "You're gonna love it, and if you don't, I'll eat, uh, this umbrella?"
With a smirk at Carla that said Nice idiot scalpel jock husband ya got there, Perry said, "Great, that's soooo very helpful. Now what does MXC stand for?"
Elliot perked up, the drive to seem knowledgeable taking over even as she fought to keep her drink upright. "That would be Most Extreme Elimination Challenge. It's actually a Japanese game show that takes itself very seriously, but is then dubbed over by American voice actors to make it sound even more outrageous than it really is." She smiled smugly, sipping her fruity cocktail with a flair.
"As if watching tiny people in short shorts getting run over by boulders isn't funny enough by itself!" laughed JD, handing a frosty glass to Turk before plopping down between Elliot and Perry.
Turk glared at JD. "You know you wouldn't laugh half as hard without Vic and Kenny and the Captain, man. 'Let's get it on!' Come on, you know I'm right." He thrust his fist towards JD, across Elliot's lap.
JD finished gulping his drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Chocolate Bear, I can't remember what you just said, but if you think so, then you're damn well right! Am I right? No, wait, you were the one who was right… right?" He giggled and met Turk's fist with his own, a solid if drunken fist-bump. A little too much effort went into the follow-through, though, and he landed face up on Elliot's lap, howling in laughter.
"It's a ridiculous concept, but I gotta admit, it's pretty amusing so far," conceded Perry. He watched the action on the television in blessed silence for a bit. A skinny wisp of a bespectacled man was crashing through a series of paper walls, bouncing off once in a while before finding the right opening. He eventually broke through a wall only to come face to face with an enormously fat and angry fellow in an ostentatious mockery of a geisha costume. Perry chuckled, drinking straight from his bottle of scotch. After a moment he noticed it had been quiet for a while, and looking around the room he saw three sets of eyes upon him, each wide in surprise. "What?" Perry asked, annoyed. He then followed their gazes down and blanched.
JD had unwittingly thrown his legs up as he had fallen on the couch, and they had landed right across Perry's lap.
And incredulous Perry slowly turned to look at his intoxicated protégé. JD was totally oblivious, watching television and laughing loudly while chewing on a cherry stem and twirling a tiny pink umbrella in his hand. "Hahaha! Look, you guys! He so totally fell over!" squeals of laughter fell endlessly from the young doctor's mouth.
Perry grinned despite himself, gently placing a hand on JD's knee. "You think falling people are funny there, Carmen Miranda?"
The question was apparently funnier than the show, because JD began to laugh so hard he snorted.
"Well I think that answers my question, then. See you next fall!" With that, Perry grabbed JD's pants leg and pulled sharply, sending JD spinning in midair before tumbling off the couch and onto the floor. A gleeful expression radiated from Perry's face as he mimicked, "Teeheehee! Look, you guys! He fell over!"
The three others who still remained sitting snickered along until they realized JD was no longer laughing. Turk took the lead and leaned over to look at JD with concern. "Hey buddy, you alright down there?" He punctuated the ever so caring gesture by poking JD's head repeatedly with his sock-covered foot.
"Tuuuuuurk," whined JD, "I think I found that enchilada you lost last week."
Carla and Elliot jumped up, alternately attempting to clean up the mess on the floor and scolding the guys for said mess. Turk and Perry shared a chuckle as JD tried unsuccessfully to climb up off the floor, and eventually each of them grabbed him by the shirt to haul him back onto the couch.
JD harrumphed. "I feel gross." He turned to Perry and smiled crookedly. "Will you help me in the bathroom? I don't think I can do it by myself."
Perry grunted uncomfortably. "Don't look at me, Rapunzel. I with neither hold your hair, nor pat your back, nor dab your barfy, girly mouth when it's all over." Oh come on. You know you would, you incredible bastard. You promised Carla you'd at least be decent to him, so buck up and have another drink for crying out loud. Number six is it? The scotch ran down his throat faster than he had intended, but it was welcome nonetheless.
"Nononono. I feel gross." JD twisted himself around on the couch to show Perry his right side: week-old enchilada was caked onto his face and smeared on the sleeve of his t-shirt.
With a groan, Perry stood up with surprising stability. "Don't suppose I could get out of this little field trip if I broke this bottle over my own head and stabbed myself with the pointy end?" He brandished his scotch bottle, the dwindling liquid sloshing within.
JD hiccupped thoughtfully. "Naw. We'd just have to clean you up too!" He hauled himself up and tottered unsteadily to his small bathroom. "Ew, ew, gross, ew…"
"Ew, ew, my pretty pretty face is ruined! Now I'll never make the photo shoot for Ladies' Home Journal!" mocked Perry in a high-pitched voice under his breath. He shot a glance over his shoulder to see if anyone had heard him (mildly concerned about that) or if anyone cared that he was about to follow Her Highness into her powder room (okay, moderately concerned about that). Elliot and Turk were drunkenly blathering on about the antics on television, thankfully, but Carla shot him a quick look as he walked away. It was very I know something you don't know, and Perry didn't like it one bit. He tried his best to glare scarily, which was apparently not very effective because she just smirked and turned her attention back to the piña colada in her hand.
Several muted crashes, a muttered curse and a solid thump echoed from the bathroom. Perry sighed, deciding he'd better get on with it. He took another long drink from the bottle before setting it on the kitchen counter. Rounding the corner to the bathroom, he stopped in his tracks and was barely able to contain a fit of laughter.
An array of hair care products, lotion bottles, body sprays and other toiletries were strewn all across the counter and floor, some still rolling with diminishing momentum. One bottle in particular continued on its merry way after the rest had come to a stop, rolling lopsidedly until it plunked against the side of the bathtub. Perry stared at the cheerful blue label: Dancing Waters Body Mist. He snorted.
"Dr. Cox?" mumbled JD, voice echoing slightly.
Perry's eyes whipped upward. Lying prone in the bathtub was an almost-shirtless JD. He had nearly managed to extricate himself from his t-shirt, which was currently stuck around his neck and covering his face and head. His arms flailed sluggishly, ineffectively batting at the fabric. He giggled.
"Good Gods in the Garden, Princess Diana, you've been flying all night without your wonderbra? How the heck have you been so perky all night without it?"
"C'mon," moaned JD, "little help please? I'm running out of air in here!" He groped about blindly.
Perry considered the younger man reclining, bare skin against the smooth whiteness of the tub. JD's t-shirt had somehow gotten turned around on his head, leaving the faded tag sticking out, fluttering, mocking. Traitorous little bastard, he spat internally. Well, get on with it. Be nice, or something. "Fine, hold still." With a fluid motion Perry placed a steadying hand on JD's shoulder before gripping and pulling on the t-shirt. It came off fairly easily, leaving JD sitting straight up in the bathtub.
"I can breathe!" exalted JD, thrusting his fists skyward. He slipped further into the tub, his sock feet wiggling in the air as he tried to regain balance. His snickers echoed through the bathroom.
"I said hold still, you idiot," Perry snapped. He turned on the tub's faucet.
JD looked around, abashed, and somehow focused his blurry vision on the hand clamped on his shoulder. His eyes moved warily between it and the water slowly creeping towards him. "Wait, what… what are you—"
Perry rolled his eyes. "Look over here, Cupcake," he growled, pushing JD's face away from the faucet. He held the crumpled t-shirt under the running faucet for a moment before turning it off. JD whipped his head back in that direction, starting at the sudden lack of noise and fixating on the hand still gripping his shoulder. "Over here," Perry said a bit more forcefully, jerking JD's face around again. He moved towards JD with the wet shirt, about to wipe the mess from his face, when JD pulled away once more, head drunkenly lolling to the other side. Having had about enough, Perry released JD's shoulder and instead squeezed his face until his mouth and cheeks puckered out like a surprised fish, turning him until they were face to face. "I. Said. Over. Here." Angling JD's head slightly away, Perry roughly wiped the shirt against JD's cheek, brushing the mess into the tub and down the drain. Satisfied, he stood abruptly, tossing the shirt in the hamper. "There. Now get up and put another damn shirt on." Goddamned kid. Fat lot of good all of this is going to do you. He won't even be able to remember this in the mor--
JD's eyes glimmered as Perry began to leave. "Dr. Cox!"
"Christ, what do you want now?" sighed Perry, turning in the doorway.
"You didn't use soap!" the younger doctor blurted out, grinning like a fool.
Perry groaned, slapping a hand to his face. "Oh, for the love of the Great Spirit. Here you go then, Little Keegsquaw Dancing Water." Reaching toward the floor he grabbed the blue bottle that caught his eye earlier, trained it on his protégé and sprayed several times. "How you'll smell fresh as a fucking daisy. Chopity chop." He slammed the bottle on the counter before finally leaving the room.
JD grinned again, pulling himself out of the tub. His shoulder felt blazing warm, his back felt freezing cold and his face was dripping wet, but he did indeed smell fresh and felt tingly all over. He giggled his way to his bedroom, looking for a new shirt.
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A/N: I think the ending was a bit abrupt, but I had to end the chapter and post it sometime. Chapter 3 sometime later this week.