Grace Under Pressure

Chapter One

Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own Scrubs so Bill Lawrence please don't sue.

Author's Note: This is going to be a Dr. Cox/OFC story. If that is not your cup of tea, please turn back now.

"Keep walking through the storm. Your rainbow is waiting on the other side."

- Heather Stillufsen

As I stood at the nurse's station filling out a med order for my AIDS patient in Room 12, I kept sneaking glances in the direction of my new boss, Dr. Cox. He was standing outside the closed door of what had been deemed a 'clean room', tearing a first-year intern a new one.

"Were you born stupid or is this a recent achievement?" He asked rhetorically with a sneer. "Why do we call it a 'clean room'?" He asked as though he was speaking to a very small child.

"Because the patient's immune system can't handle infection so purified air is pumped in to keep out germs and all medical personnel must be properly scrubbed and attired before entering." The intern – I think his name was Dale – rattled off like he had swallowed a medical textbook.

"Righto! So, tell me why exactly you would go in that room not even wearing a pair of damn gloves? How many times did your mommy drop you on your head as a child? And did she do it by accident or was this a Greek god thing where you were just so darn ugly that she couldn't help herself?"

Wow. If I had a boss like Dr. Cox during my first year as an intern, I probably would have either quit or gone to jail for assault on my first day. Poor Dale looked like he was about to burst out into tears at any moment. Luckily, Dr. Cox went a little easier on us residents who (mostly) knew what we were doing. Sure, he was rude, egotistical, and never complimentary, but he never downright tore us down. I had been at Sacred Heart Hospital for a little over a month and the worst thing he had done to me so far was give me the childish sounding nickname, 'Gracie Face'. I rolled with it, lest I end up with something worse. He called Dr. Reid, 'Barbie', and Dr. Dorian (a bloke), by a large variety of female names.

At first, I hadn't understood why everyone in the hospital seemed completely okay with Dr. Cox's behavior. Why hadn't anyone filed a complaint against him, I wondered. After only a week working at the hospital, I totally got it. The asshole act was just that... an act. It was how he kept us all on our toes and from making deadly mistakes with our patients. It was how he shaped us into good doctors and there was no better teacher. Dr. Cox was an amazing doctor who really cared about his patients. He also wasn't hard on the eyes. I was a Brit who had grown up with a massive crush on Prince Harry. What could I say? I had a type and that type was fit gingers.

"Miss Metatron, I need a favor from you." Dr. Dorian – who everyone called J.D. – seemed to just pop up out of nowhere.

I sighed, "J.D., just because I'm English and my last name is Rickman doesn't mean that I'm Alan Rickman's secret love child. As I've told you many times before, Rickman is a very common surname."

"Nope, don't believe it." He shook his head before calling over his shoulder. "Yo, Turk, what do you think?! You think Grace is Alan R.'s kid?"

"She's Snape's baby all the way!" J.D.'s best friend and the head surgical resident, Dr. Chris Turk called back as he passed us in the hallway.

"How do I make them bleedin' stop?" I groaned to my favorite nurse (and Turk's wife) Carla.

"Kill them," she said simply. "I just haven't had the courage yet."

"Yet?" J.D. looked at her suspiciously. "What do you mean 'yet'?" He got this faraway look on his face and completely zoned out.

"J.D. the favor?" I reminded him. He was in his own little world and didn't respond. "J.D.!" I clapped my hands in front of his face.

"I wasn't picturing Carla as a female Rambo!" J.D. said as he snapped out of his daydream. I wondered when his last psyche evaluation had been. J.D. was a good doctor but the bloke was completely mental.

"What was the favor?" I sighed and asked again.

"Oh, right." He snapped his fingers. "You're friends with Jordan, right?"

"Yes..." I already knew where this was headed.

Jordan Sullivan was on the hospital board of directors. We had met when she had cast the deciding vote to hire me. Going back to Alan Rickman for a moment, Jordan had the kind of personality where she could pass for Severus Snape's bitchy daughter. She could reduce the strongest of men to tears with just a few well-timed, completely dry insults. Also, like Snape, she did have a heart hidden deep down. If she considered you a friend, she had your back.

"Well, the board is meeting tomorrow and I put in a request for leave time for my honeymoon..."

J.D. was marrying Dr. Elliot Reid AKA Barbie to Dr. Cox in a little under a month's time. Our Chief-of-Staff, Dr. Kelso, was a bit of a wanker. He didn't like giving the residents and interns time off because we didn't make as much as attendings. It was cheaper to keep us on call. To get extra or unplanned time-off, you had to ask the board of directors.

"Nope, Linda, Gracie Face can't help you." Dr. Cox came over to the nurse's station to grab a patient's chart. "You see, newbie, since our new Brit doctor here has been hanging out with the Wicked Witch of Botox, she has had less of a desire to drag me shopping for a new broomstick. You aren't going to jeopardize this blessed friendship by making Gracie Face ask for favors. Put on your big girl panties and ask Jordan yourself."

Did I mention that Dr. Cox was Jordan's ex-husband and the father of her two children?