Dr. Betty Caduceus (doctor_caduceus) wrote in spirited_love,
Dr. Betty Caduceus
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The Guest Lecture v.1.5 12/??

Fic: The Guest Lecture v1.5
Fandoms: Scrubs / House crossover (Set in Sacred Heart Hospital, my money's on Sacramento, CA)
Characters this chapter: House, Chase, The Todd, Carla, Laverne, JD
Chapter rating:R for language and non-explicit bukake (look it up)
Overall story rating: NC-17 in parts, if I can make myself stop blushing, but relatively plot heavy overall.
Genre: Humor, angst, romantic, smut, I think I hit everything but horror.
Warnings: Language, almost definite OOCness, minimal plot progression.
Spoilers: Up to Scrubs Season 6, episode 7, "My Musical" and House, M.D., up to "Fools for Love," Season 3, episode 5.
The Guest Lecture 12/??
Chapter Narrator: Cha Cha Chase.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.


This chapter may suck ass, just to warn you. It fought me tooth and nail, hence the long gap between updates. If it does suck ass, let me know and I'll put forth some effort into reworking it, or scrapping entirely and starting over from the end of 11.




Garbage, "The Queerest of the Queer"

This is what he pays me for,
I'll show you how it's done.
You learn to love the pain you feel;
Like father, like son.

But you can't stop
The queerest of the queer.


"You look hot running a Power Point presentation," Todd said at my left.

"Damn right I do," I replied. Todd had done a considerable amount of beating off of my ego the past few days, the dim muscle-bound cheerleader, which had put a spring in my step.

"Don't you get tired of that guy's sycophancy?" Cameron asked from my right, making a nauseated face complete with tongue lolling out. "No offense," she added to Todd.

"Who gets tired of sicko fantasies?" Todd answered. I paused, grabbed him by the ass and hair and stuck my tongue down his throat, pulling away with a wet sucking sound.

"Not me, you magnificent stupid bastard," I replied.

"I think I just threw up a little bit," Cameron muttered. "Where's House, I haven't seen him since yesterday."

"Probably slacking off somewhere," I said. "You didn't think he was actually going to go to the conferences, did you?"

"Not really, but I didn't think he could resist hanging around and being a pain in the ass. That's what worries me. Help me look for him."

"He's not gonna hide here," I pointed out.

"Chase—" Cameron started in a tone that indicated a long lecture was on deck. I rolled my eyes.

"Come along, Todd. We're going to look for Doctor House," I said.

"Who?" he asked, trotting along dutifully at my side.

"The one with the limp," I explained. "He likes to hide to avoid doing anything."

We investigated a variety of places: The on-call room, a few supposedly vacant rooms, and a few rooms of patients that were comatose. It was the third room of that last category that happened to pan out.

"A heart monitor, House?" I snapped, turning the damned thing off and yanking the electrodes off of him. "Get the hell up."

House just lay there.

"Fine, if that's how you want to play," I snarled. "Todd?"

"Yes, angel cock?" he said, beaming at me.

"I want you to jerk off on his face."

Todd cheerfully got to work as I shut the room's door and jammed a chair underneath the handle.

"That was quick," I said upon turning around and finding him done. Then I caught sight of the IV nutrition line in his arm. "Oops."

I went into the bathroom, brought back wet paper towels, and cleaned off House's face, then grabbed the chart at the foot of the bed. Orders had been written to keep him in a coma, signed by 'take a wild fuckin' guess' of all people. I took a look at what'd been used to knock him out and told the Todd what to bring back to me, pinning the note to his scrubs so that he didn't bring me back a muffin or a turtle by mistake, the rascal.

I carefully fed the drug Todd brought back into the tube leading into House's vein and waited for a moment. Normally patients woke up slowly, went through a groggy spell, returned to consciousness gently. Of course, with House's drug addled, fucked up anatomy, all bets were generally off.1

"Bastard!" House spat, sitting bolt upright.

"I can't believe you'd put yourself into a coma to avoid work," I sighed, crossing my arms. "Not even work, just sitting around and pretending to listen."

"It's a good thing you're pretty, Chase, because you're a fucking idiot," House snarled back, yanking out his IV tube and getting up, slightly wobbly. "What day is it?"

"Wednesday," I said.

"What time?"

I looked at my watch.

"A quarter past four. Todd, go fetch Dr. House a shirt, won't you?"

Todd scurried off. House glowered at me.

"Why is my face wet?" he asked. I shrugged.

"You had those little crusty things in your eyes."

"Right," he said, pulling on his jeans. "You're going to help me."

"I just got you out of a coma, I think I've earned my biscuit today," I sniffed. He narrowed his eyes at me.

"You'll enjoy this. Perry Cox—"

"Who?" I asked, looking at my fingernails. House picked up his cane, appeared to be considering taking a swing at me, but moved on.

"The dickhead who put me into a coma. He's got this little doctor he's all ga ga about, and I want him to work for us."

"Work for us or work for you?" I sighed. House gritted his teeth.

"Help me get him out of here and up to California and I could be persuaded to… share," he said.

"Who says I'd want him?" I scoffed.

"He's the kid who wound up taking over the tour."

"The black surgeon?" I considered.

"No, the kid with the big hair," he snapped, waving his hands by his head in a way that I assume was meant to indicate some sort of hair style. I picked through my memory of the past few days, and managed to pull up a face.

"Oh, that boy," I said, considering. "Dorian."

"You'd like him, Chase. He puts the 'fuck me' back in credulous," House said.

"There is no fuck me in credulous."

"I know, it's that impressive."

"What about Wilson?" I asked. "If he catches you—"

"He's already caught me; he's shacking up with the guy who put me into a coma," House muttered, fishing through the wastebasket by his bed and pulling out the remains of his t-shirt. "Oh, what the hell!"

"You have had a busy day," I smirked. "So what do you want me to do about it?"

"People like to believe the things that come out of your mouth. Go use your man-pretty and work him from the crotch angle while I keep working the fatherly job offer one."

"How's that going to help you get him into bed?" I asked.

"Once he realizes that you're only out to fuck his brains out, he'll come to me for advice and snuggling at which point I get to fuck his brains out."

"I'll see what I can do, but I want a favor," I replied.

"I'm listening," House said, twirling his cane.

"The surgeon with no sleeves. I want to keep him, he'll need a job, you can make one. Besides, we can never get a surgeon when we need one, given that you've alienated the universe, and he's quite good."

"We'll see how you do with Johnny," House replied. Todd returned with a green surgical scrubs top and handed it to House.

"Cameron was looking for you," I mentioned.

"Tell her I'm busy," House rolled his eyes, putting on the aqua-green shirt.

"That's a horrible color on you," I commented. "We were thinking of getting some food, are you coming?"

"I've got revenge to plot," he answered back. "But you know who I bet would love to share in your hypothetical food?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Doctor Dorian?"

"Who says pretty blondes can't be smart?" House smirked.

"I do," Todd laughed. I smacked him upside the head, told him to come along, and off we went.

"So is this Doctor Dorian at least marginally attractive?" I sighed.

"The Todd has thought of Doctor Dorian many times when giving himself a low five," Todd confirmed. "He's got a really pretty mouth."

"That was terribly disturbing," I said to him. "Keep it up."

We walked up to the Nurses' station and I asked after Doctor Dorian. The Latina nurse and the large black nurse looked at each other.

"Doctor Dorian's off today," the Latina nurse said.

"But I saw him earlier," Todd protested. I glanced over at the board where his name was still up, and glanced back at the nurse.

"Well he's off now," she said firmly.

"I'll find another time to speak with him then," I said, smiling and guiding Todd away. Once we were out of ear shot I asked "Have you got his phone number?"

"I think so," Todd replied, reaching into a pocket and pulling his out, scrolling down the screen. "Here it is."

"Perfect," I said, plucking the phone from his hand and dialing Doctor Dorian's number.

"Hello?" an exhausted sounding voice came on the line.

"Hi, Doctor Dorian? My name's Robert Chase, from Princeton-Plainsboro?"

"Oh yeah, one of the Jersey docs," he said after a moment. "What can I do for you?"

"Well," I said, putting on my most velvety voice, the one I use when trying to get one of my various acquaintances to come over for a quick fuck and torment. "I heard that you're considering coming to work with us. Cameron and Foreman and I would love to spend some time with you, get to know you a little better."

"That's great," he said, not sounding especially great, but I'd fix that as soon as I got hands on him. "I've been wanting to talk to you guys about the gig and what it's like."

"Absolutely," I said. "Are you busy tonight? We've got no plans for dinner."

I paused, lowering my voice to something huskier, between a whisper and a growl, adding:

"My treat."

"That sounds terrific," he replied in a tone that sounded a little too oblivious to my overtures for my liking. He suggested a place, I agreed, he offered to make reservations, I was gracious about it. We hung up cordially.

"Todd, have you ever considered marriage?" I asked thoughtfully as we walked to the cafeteria.

"I thought of moving to Utah and converting to one of those religions that lets you have a bunch of different wives, but then I found out they don't let you have husbands."

I stopped, which made him stop automatically.

"What if I told you I wanted you to come to New Jersey and marry me? It's legal there now, sort of."

He blinked, considering in that great meaty head of his.

"Would we still be able to fuck other people?"

"Of course," I scoffed, "by the busload. You'd need my permission of course, but please, monogamy is so nineteen fifty-five."

The Todd considered for a moment, then raised his hand in the air.

"Matrimony five!" he declared.



1. I still have no idea how pharmaceutically induced comas work, either going in or coming out.
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