My Spiders From Mars
It wasn't love at first sight because the first time he met Dr Cox he was concentrating on the back of Turk's head where Turk's morning shave had missed a spot. JD spent the entire introduction to the medical staff of Sacred Heart contemplating the art of shaving the erratic contours of the skull. Which, while not entirely unrelated to his upcoming internship at the hospital, was pretty stupid given that he was unlikely to shave his head in the near future - or anyone else's for that matter.
There was no big moment with the orchestra swelling and the bells ringing as usually accompanies the initial moments of a great love affair. Rather, there was the relentless droning of Dr Kelso giving them the first of many lectures about responsibility, organisation and the malpractice suits they will inevitably attract to the hospital.
This should have been an omen. It should have been something to which he'd paid attention at any rate. Even if it was just to memorise the names of the senior staff at Sacred Heart which, while not down-playing the importance of signs and portents, was information he could really use.
There was a moment later, and while it lacked musical accompaniment it wasn't without a fanfare of sorts. It occurred after he correctly diagnosed Hyper Thyroid Syndrome in a patient presenting conflicting symptoms. Dr Cox admonished him for expecting acknowledgment of his prowess, calling him "Maureen." JD knew this was a sign. Maureen was one of his favourite girls' names. He remembered Maureen Middleton from grade school who had pink bows in her hair and little blonde curls that dangled in front of her blue, blue eyes. Clearly "Maureen" was term of endearment.
But there was also the way Dr Cox's smile had that hint of pride when he said, "golly gee whiz - I'm so happy for you I could stick a tongue depressor down my throat and experience the yummy goodness of my completely tasteless and probably stale cafeteria oatmeal all over again," which told JD how Dr Cox really felt.
It sent him running into the supply closet so he could say it out loud. "Oh my god. I think I'm gay!"
In doing so he learned a valuable lesson. Supply cabinets in hospitals are rarely empty. A pair of interns were making out on top of a box of latex gloves. They immediately stopped and the girl burst into tears.
"Honey - you're beautiful to me!" the boy said. JD backed out the way he came.
He was intrigued with his new gay identity. For starters, it meant rethinking his image. He'd seen Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Will and Grace and that Australian movie with the three guys in dresses climbing Ayers Rock so he figured some kind of outrageous behaviour was expected. Truthfully, he wasn't the flamboyant type and his one audition for the school play landed him a role as a curtain puller, but maybe all this would become easier now that he was gay?
The good news was that gay was 'in' and gay guys seemed to attract women in droves.
That's when he realised: maybe not so gay after all.
The truth was, he liked girls. He liked Elliot with her trendy hair-do that hung over her eyes and the way she wore little pink sweaters with the buttons hanging casually undone revealing a glimpse of the curve of her breast. Danni came and went and he liked her too despite being descended from the same pure evil that spawned her sister and being a possible sleeper (liable to turn into Jordan at any moment).
But he doesn't have cause to think of it again until years and a whole internship later when a little brush up against Dr Cox in the men's room reminds him of his one-time crush. The tingle he feels as he makes contact leaves him wondering whether it's just a little hero-worship, something that happens to all guys at some time or another.
He decides to test the theory on Turk: "Hey Turk, you ever have a crush on an older guy?" They're watching The Partridge Family because Turk has some weird Susan Dey thing going on.
Turk is suddenly parked in the far corner of the couch looking at JD like he's developed tentacles. "What are you trying to say?"
"Turk! I said 'older' guy!"
"I'm two months older than you."
Turk's obvious and somewhat irrational homophobia indicated the issue was not to be solved by recourse to his best friend.
However, eventually the planets align and the moon appears in his constellation because not long after there's another incident in the men's room.
JD's coming off the end of a ten-hour shift, splashing water on his face to wake himself up, when he looks in the mirror and sees Dr Cox is behind him, fury about to burst forth from the vein pulsing above his left eye.
JD turns around. Right eye.
"Well Deirdre," he says. "You've made yet another royal screw up of my authority in this asylum masquerading as a hospital. Dr Marcus and Dr Aitken are attending ward six when I specifically asked they attend the respiratory ward, and when I asked who it was that told them to switch they did not say God, the President or even that dried prune on legs who runs this hospital. They said it was you, Mariah. You who has about as much authority around here as that guy over there who is only here because he can't find a public toilet."
The guy Dr Cox is referring to finishes taking a leak and zips his fly. "There should be signs!" he says, before walking out.
JD hasn't told anyone to swap. There are residents who advocate the "blame JD" policy when it comes to Dr Cox because they, like he, suspect Dr Cox has a soft for JD.
He also suspects there are residents who know what a pushover he is.
"Well - actually - Dr Cox ..."
"Oh can it, Lurleen, I'm not interested in your excuses. I'm sure you had good reason and it's probably something to do with saving puppies or fairies or little old ladies who are too fragile to make it to the paint spraying line to get their hair that perfect shade of blue." He presses the heel of his hand against the pulsing vein in his forehead and holds it there for a while.
JD waits. When Dr Cox doesn't continue he holds up his hand. "Uh - Dr Cox...?"
"Yes, what is it?"
"I didn't swap Dr Marcus's and Dr Aitken's schedule."
Dr Cox takes his hand away from his head and sighs. "Yeah, I know. And put your hand down you look you're in grade school and you're about to eat your earwax."
JD contemplates his earwax. He wonders what it would taste like.
"Don't even think about, newbie," Dr Cox says.
JD thinks about something else - like why Dr Cox chooses to yell at him when he knows he's not to blame. "Dr Cox - is there are reason you came in here?"
"I swear to god, Janet, if there is I've forgotten it."
"Oh," JD says. "Okay." He wonders if he should go about his business or stand there while Dr Cox figures out what he came into the men's room for?
Dr Cox has a look in his eye JD can't figure out. He wonders if it's the look he gets when he runs out of girls' names.
Then Dr Cox steps into JD's personal space, reaches up for his eye. "You know..." He sounds nervous. JD's never heard him sound nervous. Dr Cox's fingers hover just above JD's eyelash. "...you've got something in your..."
And then he pushes him up against the mirror and kisses him. Just like that. He tastes warm and salty. His mouth is open and his hands are against JD's chest. JD can feel his heart beating in his throat.
And then he stops. JD thinks he should say something. He thinks Dr Cox should say something. He thinks Dr Cox should do anything other than what he does. He backs away, straightens himself, and leaves.
Pretty weird, JD thinks. But he liked it. That means something, right?
It means he spends a night watching re-runs of Melrose Place, trying to figure out if he prefers Kelly Rutherford or Grant Show. Before he can make a decision he gets bored and flips channels. He finds a Scooby Doo marathon and remembers he once had sexy thoughts about Daphne and her short, short purple dress - and what the hell does that mean?
The next day at the hospital he is resolved to talk to someone about his dilemma. Anyone. In desperation he turns to the first person he comes across.
Only the first person he comes across happens to be the janitor. "You know, Dr Kelso told me that if you stand there long enough I have his permission to throw you out with the trash," he says.
"Forget it," JD says.
He goes in search of an Earthling. Or some form of intelligent life. Unfortunately, such qualities are in short supply in Sacred Heart. He finds the Todd staring at Dr Michaels from Ob-Gyn's patent leather pumps hoping to see a reflection of her underwear, and Ted's a cappella group practicing for their Eminem and D12 review.
He finds Elliot in the locker room contemplating her toenails and decides on the lesser of three evils.
She looks up when he walks in. "Do you think I should paint them Ice Blue or Passion Purple?" she says, indicating her toes.
"No one is going to see them, right?"
"Well, no," she says. "But it's all about how I feel. I could be in the middle of a code blue and suddenly I realise I'm wearing Passion Purple nail polish on my toes. I'm suddenly excited, my senses are clouded, I make the wrong decision, and before you know it someone is dead."
"Wow." His thinks of his toe-nails: hairy and the little one on the left has turned black from the time the janitor 'accidentally' rested his bucket on it for fifteen minutes while JD screamed and yelled expletives. It hurt for a while but otherwise there was no impact on his medical career. "How about alternating for each toe?" He suggests.
"Great idea! Yin and yang. I can be both."
She starts painting.
JD shifts his weight to the opposite foot. "Hey, Elliot, can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Do you ever wonder about - you know - whether Sean is the right person for you?"
She blinks. "No."
"Uh - I mean..." His mouth feels dry. He swallows. "...have you ever wondered if you liked girls?"
"JD - for the last time, when I said Dr Michaels took me home I meant she gave me a ride."
JD blinks.
"In her car!"
JD blinks again.
"She drove me home!"
His feels a sweat on his brow and his hands go clammy.
"It's a car thing, isn't it?" Elliot says.
"It really is," JD says. He shakes himself and the image of Elliot and Dr Michaels disappears. "But that's not what I came to ask you. It's about me."
"JD, I thought you already liked girls?"
"Yeah, I do. But some times..." He gives her a meaningful look.
Elliot frowns. "Some times what?"
He wonders if Elliot was born clueless or whether it took years of practice. He should have asked someone who understood innuendo, someone like... well, anyone other than Elliot.
"What if I liked guys too?"
"Liked guys to what?"
"You know..." He made his "I'm sexually aroused" face and hoped she wouldn't mistake it for his "I'm constipated" face.
"Are you constipated?"
"No! This is my..." He made the face again. "...face."
"Oh," Elliot got it. "Oooh..." Elliot really got it.
"So you think you're..."
"No!"
"But you said..."
"Not like that."
"Like how?"
"Like - I don't know, that's what I'm trying to figure out."
"Oooh." It finally sinks in. He suspects the conversation would have gone a lot faster if he'd written it down. "Well that explains your nail polish expertise," she says.
She's right. That's something. "Any advice?"
"Hmmm..." She looks thoughtful. "How about listening to David Bowie?"
"Excuse me?"
And then aliens abduct Elliot and leave cool, ultra-hip, pod-Elliot in her place. "He went through that whole Ziggy Stardust phase. He and Iggy Pop were pretty friendly - if you get what I'm saying."
He wonders what the aliens did with the real Elliot. "Who told you that?"
She smiles, showing lots of teeth. "Sean."
He really hates Sean.
However, strange as it seems, Elliot makes sense. There's a precedent for guys like him. He just needs to immerse himself in the culture.
He is checking his eyes in the mirror and wondering what he'd look like with asymmetrical eye-colour, when Dr Cox shows up again and shoves him into a cubicle.
This time there is a little less kissing and a lot more heavy petting involved.
He thinks he should say something. "Dr Cox..."
"Shut up, Gillian," Dr Cox covers JD's mouth with his hand.
Dr Cox shoves his hands down JD's pants, stretching the elastic of his boxers so he can jerk him off. JD gasps and bites down on the hand covering his mouth. It doesn't seem to bother Dr Cox. JD's head swims and he thinks he's definitely in love.
Dr Cox says, "Don't say a word," before leaving. JD shrugs. Progress.
Back at the apartment he goes through his CD collection. No David Bowie. No Iggy Pop either. He's got the Supremes on his "Hits From the 60s" CD and some people say Diana Ross is actually a really convincing drag queen.
He's contemplating putting it on when Turk shows up. "I told you never to take that thing out of its cover."
JD holds the still shrink-wrapped CD up in the air. "Haven't yet."
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for David Bowie."
Turk eyes dart about the room. "Why? Is he talking to you?"
"An album, you idiot."
"Oh!" Turk pulls out his CD drawer. "Which one do you want? I got Diamond Dogs, the Man Who Sold the World, Hunky Dory, Ziggy Stardust..."
"You like David Bowie?"
"JD - it's David Bowie. Now what's it gonna be?"
JD holds out his hand. "Give me Ziggy Stardust."
"Excellent choice," Turk says, taking a CD from the drawer and handing it to JD.
Thirty minutes later and Carla comes home to find them playing air-guitar to "Suffragette City".
She smiles approvingly. "Ziggy Stardust. Cool."
Turk stops playing air-guitar long enough to kiss Carla on top of the head. "Hey baby - JD's got a hankering for some Bowie."
"Really? What brought this on?"
JD looks at Carla and then at Turk and then at Carla. Carla knows everything there is to know about everything and would probably be a good person to talk to about Dr Cox. He picks up the remote control and turns the sound down on David Bowie.
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you guys about something..."
Carla and Turk exchange looks and take a seat on the couch. JD sits on the floor, looking up at Carla and Turk. From this angle they look like his parents.
"This is never going to work," he says, and he gets up and sits on the coffee table. "That's better."
"What is it, Bambi?" Carla says. "Are you all right?"
"Sure!" he says, enthusiastically, smiling. And then he remembers he's supposed to be discussing something serious. The smile drops. "Except - I think I'm in love with more than one person."
Carla looks at Turk. Turk shrugs. Carla turns back to JD. "Who are we talking about?"
"Well - actually it's more like I'm in love with more than one type of person."
Carla and Turk give him matching blank looks.
"Well, you know I love Elliot, right?"
"And how," Carla says, rolling her eyes.
"Got the t-shirt," Turk says, holding up a hand indicating JD need say no more.
"Okay - well I think I'm in love with someone else - as well as Elliot."
"Ohhhh," Carla says. "You mean like Dr Cox?" Turk squeaks. Carla squeezes his leg.
"Wow," JD says. "You really are wise."
"Like there was ever a question," Carla says. "Look JD - everyone has noticed you and Dr Cox have a special relationship. Turk and I have talked about it and we've agreed that if ever your relationship should develop, we'll be there for you. Right, Turk?"
Turk pulls the constipated face. Although, JD considers, it might be the sexually aroused face. He shakes his head. No, that's just plain weird.
"Sure," Turk squeaks.
Carla sighs. "He'll get used to it," she says to JD. "Trust me."
JD decides to ignore Turk. "I don't know what to do. He keeps cornering me in the men's room and we - you know - and I'm not sure whether I'm gay or straight or David Bowie?"
"Oh sweet Jesus," Turk says, and he gets up off the couch. "I'm going outside to do... something very manly. Like build a fire-place. Or catch a bear." He disappears faster than Carla can complete a full three-sixty-degree eye-roll.
"Don't worry about him," she says. "Bambi - have Dr Cox and Jordan split up?"
JD's mouth falls open. He'd forgotten about Jordan. "Uh - not that I'm aware of..."
Carla sits forward on the couch. "Well, then you've got a tough decision ahead of you - because aside from the obvious moral dilemma of sleeping with someone else's partner, Jordan is not a nice person. And she will come here and burn this entire apartment block down if she found out you were sleeping with her man. And that would be the end of my man and possibly me. And I'm about to married - have you thought about how your relationship might affect my wedding plans?"
Truthfully, JD hadn't thought about much more than Dr Cox's hands down his pants, gently squeezing his ass...
"Bambi, when you get that look on your face I know you're not thinking about my wedding."
He shakes himself again. "I guess I was so worried about whether I should be dressing like Diana Ross or Carson Kressley, I forgot about Dr Cox's relationship with Jordan."
"That's obvious. Look Bambi, maybe you're bisexual and maybe you're just a people person - and maybe you're David Bowie. The things is, relationships are relationships and they're about people, not genders. You have to talk to Dr Cox and tell him to sort out whether he's with Jordan or with you."
Carla is right. JD is impressed. "Your words have given me great comfort, oh wise one. I shall exalt your name to the far corners of the land. "
She waves a hand. "Just send my man back in here."
Back at the hospital and he's nervous every time he takes a leak. Talking hasn't been a part of his men's room encounters with Dr Cox. He's understandably worried that introducing a new element might be harder than it looks.
He gets through two days without Dr Cox saying more than, "Miriam, where did you put Mr Granville's chart?" and "Look, Annastasia, if you must stand at the patient's bedside pretending to be a Doctor it would sure be nice if you could say something that sounds like you've spent the last six years of your life in a reputable academic institution and not a holiday camp for 'special' adults."
On the third day, just before lunch, Dr Cox corners him in the men's room on ward 3B and once again ushers him into a cubicle.
He's got his tongue down JD's throat and his hands underneath JD scrubs when JD suddenly sees his apartment block in flames and Carla in a white dress hammering him over the head with a bouquet screaming, "you ruined my wedding day, Bambi!"
"Wait," JD says. He holds his hands up between himself and Dr Cox. "This has got to stop."
"I thought I told you not to talk, newbie." Dr Cox is breathing against his ear. He smells suprisingly good for a man who's just come off a ten-hour shift. His hands drift to the cord on JD's pants.
JD forces himself to think of Carla again. "No!"
He pushes Dr Cox away. Dr Cox hits the door of the cubicle with an, "oof!"
"I'm not saying I don't appreciate the time we're spending together," JD says, recovering his breath. "But you're cheating on Jordan. And I won't be a part of it."
Dr Cox goes red on the tips of his ears. JD, to his surprise, finds it weirdly attractive. "Shit," Dr Cox says.
"Yeah," JD says.
"You know Jordan and I..." He holds his elbow in one hand and wipes his face with the other. "I love Jordan."
"I know."
"But I have this weird, some times completely ridiculous attraction to you, it's like..."
"David Bowie?"
"What?"
"Nevermind."
"I was going to say it's like I've been abducted by aliens and forced to perform lewd sexual acts for their amusement."
"There's a lot of that going around." JD nods. And then he thinks about what Dr Cox has said. "Wait - you think this is lewd?"
"No - that's just it." He throws up his hands. "This whole thing is crazy."
JD takes a long breath. "Look, if we're ever going to be together, it's not going to take place in the men's room - well, not always - it's going to be out in the open where everyone can see us." He thinks about that for a moment. "Except Jordan."
He reaches past Dr Cox to open the door. Dr Cox stands to the side to let him out. As JD brushes past him he feels Dr Cox's hand on his arm. "Wait - can't we...?"
He ignores the shiver running up his arm from the point where Dr Cox has hold of him. "Forget it, Perry," he says. He leaves Dr Cox in the cubicle, washes his hands and goes back about his rounds.
Back at the apartment he puts on Turk's copy of Ziggy Stardust again and settles back into the couch to listen. David Bowie married a beautiful, Somalian model and settled down to a life of heterosexual marital bliss. Which meant somewhere along the line, he worked out the whole equal opportunity love thing.
JD thinks about having a beautiful Somalian model around the house. He thinks about her getting out of his bed in the morning wearing an ivory coloured robe that trails after her like gossamer wings. She'd kiss him with perfect lips that looked their most appealing when they were speaking dirty words in his ear, and she'd bat big brown eyes as she slowly slipped her robe from her shoulders revealing perfect brown breasts.
And then he thinks about Dr Cox calling him Jessica as he shoves him aside and takes over his briefing the interns. He can smell his usual scent of cheap after-shave and sweat and feels a warm sensation where Dr Cox has brushed against his thigh.
Tough contest. He wonders if tossing a coin wouldn't settle it once and for all.
He thinks of Carla in her wedding dress looking demure and unthreatening and thinks, well, at least he'll sleep easier.
David Bowie sings, "Ziggy played guiiiiitaarrr..."