No ownership of the Scrubs characters is implied or inferred. Copyright belongs to others and no infringement is intended. Storyline and text copyright L J Groundwater.

Enjoy the opening tag… this story takes place in the middle of season three.

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As jaded as it sounds, you get used to hearing people softening the truth when they talk. Nobody wants to admit when they don't know something… or to deliver bad news.

Doctor Elliot Reid stands at her patient's bedside and says, "We're going to conduct a comprehensive battery of tests so we can get to the bottom of this very soon, Mr. Griffith."

Surgeon Christopher Turk looks into the accusing eyes of the love of his life, Nurse Carla Espinosa, and with his eyes wide and innocent, says in a voice an octave higher than normal, "No, baby! I wasn't eyeballing her goodies!"

Doctor Perry Cox turns to Doctor Robert Kelso, smiling with as many teeth as it's possible to show, and chuckles, "Why, you know for sure, Bobbo, that there's nothing I like better than spending a Saturday night watching people throw up all over my shoes."

The Janitor leans on his mop, grimacing, and frowns at John Dorian. "You're an idiot. I'm gonna have to take you down."

What they say rarely has anything to do with what they mean.

Elliot stands at her patient's bedside, the same as she has previously, and says, "I'm ordering about fifty tests, Mr. Griffith, because I have no idea why you keep going to sleep when your wife's talking to you about sex! I mean I've never heard of such a thing. My experience with men—well, limited as it is to, well, you know—well, I mean, not limited totally, but well, what I mean is that when someone even whispers the word—" She swallows as though to prepare herself to say the word—"'sex' that a man not only doesn't fall asleep, but he completely wakes up, and when I say wake up, I mean..."

Turk's eyes remain innocent as he looks at Carla and says, "I never thought you'd be standing right behind me, baby, when I was fantasizing about being in the valley of those mountains! But I was fast enough to wipe the drool away from the corner of my mouth, so you have to believe me because you have no evidence whatsoever to convict your cuddly bear with!"

Doctor Cox continues smiling broadly at the Chief of Medicine and says, "If it weren't for the fact that you hold my life—nay, my life's blood—in your pudgy little hands, Bobbo, I'd be telling you to take that stethoscope you like to hang around your neck and pretend that you're even remotely interested in what happens in this hospital to patients who don't have the highest level of insurance cover available—or the right asses to kiss— and shove it into an orifice where even your father, the Prince of Darkness, would fear to tread. But seeing as I can't do that, I have to resign myself to the fact that I'm doomed to watch a bunch of winos and drugged-up party guys and gals come stumbling in here at all hours of the God-forsaken night and just pray-hay-hay that I don't have to treat anyone who feels the need to give me a noogie or tousles my hair and tells me they love me, whoever I am—or, even worse, I might see someone from that group that my evil but oh-so-demonic ex-wife Jordan likes to call her mothers' network but whatI know is a witches' coven masquerading as a playgroup. So consider yourself lucky, Bobbo, because if it weren't for the power that you wield in that hollow frame of yours, you'd be hearing your heartbeat echoing out of your ass." Doctor Cox smiles again, then turns and walks away, still muttering to himself as he heads down the hall. "A dream come true, this night of nights. I could be watching the basketball game, but this is so-ho much more exciting to me. Score! The beer can ricochets nicely off Laverne's head and straight into the trash can for three points..." His voice changes to make crowd cheering noises as he disappears around a corner.

The Janitor leans on his mop, grimacing, and frowns at John Dorian. "You're an idiot. I'm gonna have to take you down."

I said rarely.