We all know what happened in Smith and Jones: Vampire aliens, leather fetishes, Judoon platoon upon the moon, all that jazz. But what if, instead of the Mercy Hospital in London, the Doctor had found some unusual readings around the Sacred Heart Hospital? Set before the events of S&J, this crossover Scrubs fanfic ruins my chances of ever being taken seriously. Told from third person POV (italics are JD's thoughts). This is a work in process, any critiques are welcome.

The day began like most days at Sacred Heart Hospital: walking in the door, getting glared at by the Janitor ("I'm watchin' you"), high fived by the Todd ("Good morning five!"), greeted by Carla ("Bambi, you're late"), and man-hugged by Turk. "How's it hangin', JD?"

"Pretty good, chocolate bear. Why'd you leave so early this morning?"

Turk shrugged. "Hey, I gotta do what I gotta do what I gotta do." That didn't really answer my question. "I had a surgery this mornin', so I got down in the AM." This called for one of his dances. "I banged the schizzle with the chizzle and fo'mizzled with the izzle." Turk moonwalked back and forth until the a too-familiar voice of sarcasm rang out.

"Well now, Emily, I know how much y'like to watch the trained bear dance, but, darn it all, there's these pesky patients that want your attention and, I know," he smiled, "it's just five more minutes and you'll get to it, but, hey, it's not like anyone will die while ya stand around and stare now is it?" Dr. Cox banged a chart into my chest. "We got another kook."

Dr. Cox's term of "kook" applied to those patients who appear perfectly healthy and normal. However, when they start to list their symptoms, it becomes clear that there's more wrong with their brain than their body. My newest patient was no exception.

"And how are we feeling today, sir?" JD asked as he walked into his newest patient's room. "Dr. John Smith, right?"

"Oh, yes, well, call me the Doctor," the patient said. "And, well, all right, I suppose, aside from the stomach cramps and chills I was telling the nurse about. Espanosa, I think it was."

Oh, so Carla had seen him in. "You visiting from oversees?" JD asked, referring to his strong English accent.

"Well, yes, could say that. Bit of a traveler in general. Lots bustling about, rush rush rush and all."

I like this Doctor. He rambled even more than me. "Well, I'll be in to take your vitals as soon as I check on my other patients. Unless you'd rather take them yourself, Doctor."

"Wrong kind of doctor, I'm afraid. No medical training whatsoever. Well, I say no, what I mean is no official training in that area…" He was still talking as JD backed out the door.

The Doctor kept talking. "And when I was younger I had a nice little house well when I say house I mean more of a cottage it was on the seaside and I usedtowanderaroundandseethesightsandoandogaignasodigwnea—" His mouth moves faster and faster until his lips fly off his face. He bends down and picks them up, still rambling away.

"You'd need a lot of glue," JD said.

"Need glue for what?" Elliot had come up behind him.

"Oh, nothing."

"No, seriously, what do you need glue for? I have some, in my bag."

"No, really, Elliot, I don't need any glue."

"Are you sure? I can get it, right now, just give me a minute, it's no problem—" She dashed off towards the locker rooms.

"What was that about?" Carla asked from behind her station.

JD leaned on the desk. "She went to get glue. Don't ask me why."

Carla smirked. "Another one of your little fantasies, JD?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Carla."

"Uh-huh." Lavern, articulate as always.

"An-y-way, I have to be going on rounds now. But I wanted to ask you about that new patient, the Doctor."

Carla sniffed. "You're actually calling him that? In a hospital full of doctors?"

"It's easy to remember…"

"Well, whatever you say, Bambi. He's English and he's crazy, that's all I can tell."

Elliot rushed back in, hair wild and scrubs askew. "I found the glue!"

We all stared. "What?" she asked. "No one's ever seen a glue container before?"

Not one larger than my head. Still, it would keep his lips from flying off…