Dr. Betty Caduceus (doctor_caduceus) wrote in spirited_love,
Dr. Betty Caduceus

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The Guest Lecture Ch. 13/??

Fic: The Guest Lecture v1.5
Fandoms: Scrubs / House crossover (Set in Sacred Heart Hospital, my money's on Sacramento, CA)
Characters this chapter: Chase, JD, the Todd, Cameron, Foreman
Chapter rating:A relatively unsatisfying NC-17 for oral escapades
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: Dubious consent, angst, Prince of Darkness!Chase, Inexplicably Quiet!Todd
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 13/?
Chapter Narrator: JD.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The Handsome Boy Modeling School, Portishead, and Roisin, "The Truth"

And the truth is, you can't hide from the truth.
And the truth hurts, because the truth is all there is.
I realized some time ago, that I would have to let you go.

I had promised myself that I would never ever get into any kind of vehicle with the Todd. This included, but was not limited to, buses (public, charter, school [long or short] or prison), vans (mini and otherwise), all forms of car, taxis, trains, monorails, limousines, airplanes, airbuses, and space shuttles, with an open ended clause for any forms of transportation to be invented after the formation of the list. And yet, here I was.

"You'll want to turn right up at the light after this one," I said to Dr. Chase, who was for some reason the one who was driving the Todd's car, while the Todd was sitting in the back seat. "Then go about a five miles."

I caught a beefy arm reaching towards me from the back seat out of the corner of my eye.

"Todd. No," Dr. Chase said in an admonishing tone. The Todd pouted and sat back.

"…kay," I said nervously. "You'll see the BP station and it'll be the next right," I finished directing him.

"Nice place," Dr. Chase said, looking over at me, parking. "So how long have you worked at Sacred Heart?"

"Six years," I answered, going up to the hostess. "Dorian, party of five."

"Oh, damn, I forgot, Cameron paged me, she said that they were having problems with the rental car and she and Foreman might be a bit late."

I glanced at Dr. Chase as the hostess led us to our table.

"Six years, gosh," he continued, accepting a menu and sitting down, the Todd leering at the hostess as she walked away. "I could see why you might be ready for a change."

"So what's it like working for Dr. House?" I asked.

"It's wonderful!" he said. I don't think I would've believed that even if the Todd hadn't blinked and opened his mouth.

"I thought you said—" Todd started.

"Hush, Todd," Dr. Chase said through his teeth, smiling.

"Wonderful, huh?" I asked, glancing over the menu at the incredibly weird couple.

"All right, you've got me. He's a bit of a bastard," Dr. Chase said. "It's a lot like working for a mad scientist, and we're his Igor."

The waitress came back and took our order.

"Maybe you should call your friends," I said as she left.

"I'm sure they're fine—" Dr. Chase started. Before he could finish his thought, the girl doctor and Dr. Foreman were standing directly behind him.

"What the hell, Chase!" Dr. Foreman said.

"Seriously, ditching your co-workers is so adolescent," Dr…. girl… said, sitting down.

"I left you the rental car!" Dr. Chase protested. Dr. Foreman went into the pocket of the coat hanging off the back of Dr. Chase's chair.

"Yeah, but you took the keys," he said, slapping them onto the table and then sitting between the girl doctor and myself.

"Well it was obviously an accident," Dr. Chase said dryly. "Who wouldn't want to have along two people as obviously fun to be around as Cameron and yourself?"

"We're really sorry about him," Dr. Cameron (the doctor formerly known as Dr. Girl) said. "He's been acting weird since we got here."

"Sacred Heart has that affect on people," I answered, handing her my menu so that she and Dr. Foreman could order. "Dr. Chase was just telling me that working for Dr. House is like working for a mad scientist?"

Foreman and Cameron blinked at each other.

"That was surprisingly honest," Dr. Foreman said.

"Well, in fairness, he did say it was wonderful first," I amended. "I take it you don't concur?"

I flagged down our waitress so that the other two could order.

"Working for Dr. House is one of the most degrading things a person can do to themselves," Dr. Foreman said.

"So why don't you quit, if it's so awful?" Dr. Chase asked, winking and me and doing something… unusual… to a breadstick with his mouth.

"Because work for him long enough and you can be the head of a similar department far, far from New Jersey, and far away from him," Dr. Foreman said grimly. "I figure about three more years and my career is made."

"Assuming he doesn't turn us all into felons first," Dr. Cameron added.

"They're exaggerating," Dr. Chase said.

"Psst," the Todd hissed at me as the other three bickered.

"Yeah Todd?" I acknowledged as I ate my salad.

"You look hot eating that tossed salad," he said. I blinked at him. While the Todd had been known to hit on men from time to time, I usually wasn't one of those men.

"Um. Thank you?" I replied. He leaned a little closer.

"I'd like to toss your salad-urf!"

The 'urf!' came as he was yanked back by Dr. Chase, who was surprisingly strong for such a slender guy. Dr. Cameron looked at him suspiciously.

"What are you doing?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm just taking an interest in a potential fellow colleague," he replied primly.

"You hate having colleagues, you live in constant fear of being fired or replaced," Dr. Foreman countered. I shrank back in my chair a bit, grabbing my wine glass, guardedly drinking. I had a sudden vision in my head of a padded room somewhere in New Jersey where the actual Drs. Cameron, Chase and Foreman were trapped, having been stripped of their credentials by the psych ward escapees here before me.

"Dr. Dorian, do you want to be a differential diagnosis department head?" Dr. Foreman asked, bringing me back to the present.

"Um…" I started.

"While working for Dr. House, each of us has nearly been arrested, multiple times," Dr. Foreman said. "I nearly died from amoebic meningoencephelalitis, Cameron nearly got HIV, House got shot, sure Chase thinks things are super, he's the only one who hasn't almost died!"

"You're completely overreacting; I honestly don't know what's gotten into you this trip," Dr. Chase retorted.

"AMOEBAS TRIED TO EAT MY BRAIN," he snapped back.

Okay, so maybe Princeton Plainsboro wasn't the best idea.


Except I worked with crazy people and for people who abused and degraded me now. Girls' names and rants from Dr. Cox, general abuse from Dr. Kelso, physical abuse from the Janitor… but leading to what?

I had three encoupled friends who were sick as hell of my problems, one pseudo-friend who was sick of me before he met me, and unless Kelso died, promoting Dr. Cox to Chief of Medicine, or Dr. Cox died, quit, got fired or got arrested, I had no hope of advancement. I could go private practice, like Elliot, but that'd never really been what I wanted to do. And diagnosis was what I was good at.

Suddenly in my mind, California was a desert, completely devoid of life. I crawled, throat dry, exhausted with no hope. Suddenly ahead, I felt a warm breeze, moist and humid. I raised my head, and there it was: My oasis, surrounded by highway exit signs, but instead of numbers, there were words. Love. Money. Sex. Success. Respect. Future. Happiness. All with arrows pointing to that lush garden oasis.

I blinked, looking at the three bickering Jersey docs and cleared my throat. They stopped, looking at me.

"What's the cost of living like?" I asked.

"A lot less than here," Dr. Chase said, brightening. "On our salaries you can afford a nice apartment, still go out to dinner on a regular basis, things like that."

"My student loans will be paid off next year," Dr. Cameron conceded.

That was a bolt from the blue. I'd always expected to pay off my student loans the day before I bought my first walker. The whole idea of being out of debt was so strange that I couldn't really comprehend it.

"Cameron, don't help!" Foreman sighed.

"Excuse me for just a second," I said, laying my napkin on the table and getting up.

I stood in the restroom, staring at myself in the mirror, feeling like Alice Through the Looking Glass when they told her what she needed to do to be a Queen. (Christ, I couldn't go with a more masculine literary reference? I searched my brain for one and came up empty.)

The little-girl-in-book concept went out the window as the Todd appeared behind me, throwing one arm around my shoulders and clapping the other hand over my mouth. He tugged me backwards so that I was sitting in his lap in the handicapped bathroom stall.

The Todd was apparently very pleased to have me in his lap in the handicapped bathroom stall, from what my tailbone could feel. Dr. Chase didn't walk in after us so much as slither. He got down on his haunches, putting himself at my bewildered level, resting his hands on my knees.

"Lamb chop," he murmured. "You're very sweet but you're not that quick on the uptake, so we're going to have to have a demonstration."

I could never say something like that and sound cool. Guys with accents have all the darn luck. If I said something like that the only action I'd get would be the mouth-to-mouth I'd have to do to resuscitate the other party after they died of laughter.

Dr. Chase reached forward as I tried to squirm free of the Todd's grip and slid the leather of my belt out of the loop and unbuckled it.

"Prestige, money, stability, advancement, ambition, blah, blah, blah. You know it's a better job, but you're not packing your things yet."

He undid the button on the fly of my chinos and untucked my shirt.

"Why is that? Rumor has it you got dumped," he said in a coy, sweet tone, running the first joint of his finger lightly, the barest of touches, over the little trail of hair leading down from my belly button. His face was so close to me, and his breath was warm and humid, like the breeze coming off my oasis.

"I can make you forget all about her," he cooed, tugging my zipper down so slow, a two second pause between the light click of each tooth separating from the others. Of all the days to wear my boxers with the little yellow smiley faces on them. My hard on was straining out of my now open fly, a drop of pre-come darkening one of the happy little faces with moisture.

"Oh my," Dr. Chase purred softly.

Damn it penis, stop encouraging him! I thought, flapping my hands and making another fruitless effort to break free of the Todd. Dr. Chase looked up at me with summer sky blue eyes, pupils dilated. He ran his cheek, just next to his mouth, against my erection.

"Are you enjoying this?" he asked like his whole world depended on me saying yes. Of course, I couldn't answer, since Dr. Chase didn't give any instructions to Todd to allow me to speak. I tried to make my eyes convey something along the lines of 'I'm really flattered, honest, and you're implausibly good looking, but I just got out of a really serious relationship and you know, maybe in another time, some other place—'

And either my eyes were in cahoots with my penis and saying something totally different, or he just didn't care, because he tugged my hips up and slid my slacks and boxers down.

"You know," he said, stroking my cock idly while he scrutinized me. "I can't help but think that it's not a woman you're trying to get over."

What the hell was he talking about? Damn it, being turned on and confused was a bad combination.

"Is it the surgeon?" he asked. "Rumor has it you're joined at the hip."

I rolled my eyes. Some people just don't get the concept of guy love.

"No? Hmm… what about the chief of medicine? Some sort of daddy figure thing going on there?"

This time I tried to voice my horror and disgust through the Todd's slab-of-meat hand (how the hell he's so damn good at surgery with those I have no idea), with eyebrow gymnastics for emphasis, not to mention generalized anger that Dr. Chase thought I had awful enough taste to see Kelso as a father figure.

"Okay, okay, don't hurt yourself," he said, smiling sweetly. "I think you're causing a bit too much of a fuss here for it to be Todd. Who does that leave?"

Finally, he'd realized I didn't have a thing for anyone at work and for a brief moment, I'd harbored hope that maybe we could just go back to the table.

His eyes widened.

"Wait… the big angry doctor? The one who slept with Wilson?"

I stopped struggling; my face froze and I couldn't make a sound.

"Oh, JD," Dr. Chase sighed sadly. "You do love to make things hard on yourself—you'll get your high-five later, Todd."

I sighed. For a brief moment, Todd's grip had loosened, but with that admonishment it tightened again, crushing my chance for a speedy escape. Dr. Chase continued to fondle me idly, which was becoming less and less enjoyable and more and more tortuous.

"I mean, he's not very kind to you, is he. Wilson gets into a tiff with House and Cox offers up his guest room, meanwhile you've been sleeping in a tent for how long? Has he asked you if you needed a place to stay once?"

I closed my eyes. Looking at Dr. Chase's pretty, sympathetic face suddenly hurt more than his fingers teasing me, more than Todd's steel cable grip around my shoulders. While I could block out his face, I couldn't block out his voice, and I couldn't defend against it. I realized my train of thought should be on the fact that while I had admittedly been having a gay day for the past few months (fine! The past few lives!), I was not having a gay day for Dr. Cox. I should've been just as indignant as I'd been when he suggested I was gay for Kelso. I should've been irate!

I absolutely shouldn't've been trying to come up with reasons Dr. Chase was wrong about what Dr. Cox thought about me, and I shouldn't've been sick to my stomach with dread that I was failing.

"JD, you're fluffy, and warm, and sweet. That man clearly likes dark, troubled and dangerous—and yes, Dr. Wilson is very dark, his well-adjusted exterior conceals serious psychological issues, and you would not believe what he's capable of behind closed doors. You're not going to get him, JD. You're just not his type. You have no shot."

I snapped my eyes open and glared. Oh, I've got a shot blondie, you'd better believe I've got a shot!

"No, JD, you don't," he replied.

Great. He misinterprets my 'No. Don't. Stop,' as 'No, don't stop,' but that he gets? Even as I thought that, I felt ill. I wasn't dark. Jordan wasn't just dark, she was evil, and dangerous, and I don't really know if you can call an evil person troubled for being troubled, I mean, it seem like you'd be troubled just by having to pick between being true to yourself and going to prison. The darkest thing I'd done was the script for Dr. Acula, which was PG-13 on the outside. I wasn't dangerous to anything but a house plant. Troubled, sure, but not in anything close to a cool or sexy way. Dr. Chase continued:

"Being around him all the time, watching him choose someone else over and over again, watching your own relationships break because no one else compares, all it's going to do is destroy you, and not in any way that would make him want you. JD…" he paused, looking into my eyes. "John… you don't have to go to New Jersey, but you can't stay here. It's going to kill you."

He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around my neck and hugging me gently, like I might break if he hugged me any tighter, which was ridiculous, because hello, the Todd with Kung-Fu grip. He was warm, and he smelled like something creamy and sweet as he kissed my cheek and slid his hand over my eyes, making me close them.

"You can pretend I'm him, if you want," he whispered in my ear. My lips felt cool as Todd took his hand off my mouth and I took a long breath.

"Thank you," I said to Dr. Chase. "Thank you."

I wish I could say that I'd sounded less pathetic.

His lips curled around my dick, taking me deep in his mouth and his teeth just gave the shaft this scrape and my mind just shattered, I swear to god. It's had to be little shards of my mind digging into the back of my eyelids, making them sting. He was rough, which would surprise me later, but as it was happening, god. He's rough and it makes it that much easier to pretend that if had hands free to reach into his hair that there'd be a few hundred curls followed by some kind of nasty comment about how if I touched his hair one more time he'd snap my wrists. It made it easier to whimper out his name even while some virtual stranger wrenched an orgasm from me. Leaning there, panting, I finally opened my eyes. Dr. Chase looked perfectly composed, leaning against the wall of the stall, but with a slightly wary look in his eyes that said he was ready to make a break for it if I suddenly whipped out a rape whistle. Todd had let go of my arms, so I tried not to look like a complete jackass while standing and tugging up my pants and boxers together.

"Could I have a minute?" I asked in the odd little enclosure of silence that followed. Todd looked expectantly at Dr. Chase, who shrugged, and the two left the stall, but not the men's room. I leaned back against the wall, sighing and doing up the zipper and button on my pants, redoing my belt, and then rubbing the heels of my hands against my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I went out to face the music.

"You should come to New Jersey," Dr. Chase said the moment the door opened. "You don't mean anything to him."

"Look, I don't want to discount how… nice that was, but after the last few unfortunate incidents, I promised myself I wouldn't make any more life altering decisions during or immediately before or after any kind of sex. Plus, and you seem really… interesting… but I'm thirty-one years old, and I'm looking for the one and only. I don't have a clue who she… or, apparently I should also be factoring in this possibility, he is. But I'm looking for forever. I'm looking for someone who's looking for forever. And it might just be the fact that you just went down on me while your 'special friend'—"

"Fiancé," Todd corrected. I looked at him, then looked at Dr. Chase, who shrugged and smiled.

"—while your fiancé held me in place, but I'm getting the impression that you're not looking for the one and only," I finished.

"That is an accurate impression, yes," Dr. Chase replied, looking a little disappointed. "Be that as it may, how are you going to look for the one and only when you're brutally hung up on someone who would never even consider being your one and only?"

"You really like twisting the knife, don't you," I said after a pause. He opened his mouth like he was going to argue, then shut it again and sighed.

"Schadenfreude's like crack to me," he nodded. I nodded too for a moment, I'm not really sure why. He continued: "If you're not going to make the decision based on your love life, then it's obvious you should come to New Jersey."

"Like I said, no life changing decisions circa sex. If I go to New Jersey it'll be because I weighed my options and made a rational adult decision."

"I'm skeptical, but I do hope you find what you're looking for. I just don't think that person is here," Dr. Chase said.

"Noted," I answered, eyeing the door. "I'm heading home. I'm… sleepy."

"I can't interest you in dessert?" Dr. Chase said with a hint of a pout.

"Extremely sleepy," I reiterated, pulling out my wallet. "I think my steak was like twenty dollars or so—"

"No no no," he said, shaking his head. "I bought dinner, you put out; we're even."

He held open the door for me.

"I promise no more demonstrations unless you ask for them, but I'm not going to stop trying to convince you. You can go ahead and look for your one and only and forever, but just remember that if you want a break, we'll be around. For now," he said.

I fled, taking the route around the bar to avoid our table all together, pulling out my cell phone.

"Call Turk," I said to it as clearly as I could.
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