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katleeptTitle: "A Hard Game To Win"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: G
Summary:
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, and Margaret are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"It's the same old thing every day! You can't tell me any differently; you know it is! Rashes, colds, flus, diarrhea, kidney blockages, the occasional cancers, pregnancies -- the same thing day after day after day after day after day -- "
John Becker glanced at his watch as his youngest nurse prattled on. After five minutes, she finally got pass the continuous "after day"s and resumed. He hoped it wouldn't take her long to finish her latest little Drama Queen speech.
Linda finally took a big breath, then continued almost without missing a beat, "I'm not old like you and Margaret! I'm young! I'm in the prime of my life! I need excitement! I need fun! I need new things! I need -- "
"You need excitement?"
"Yes!" she cried, throwing up her hands.
"You need fun?"
"Yes!"
"Okay," John said cautiously, steepling his fingers together in front of him as a thoughtful expression settled over his tired face. "Let's play a game."
"A game?" Linda repeated excitedly, her eyes shining with interest. At his nod, she asked, "What kind of game?"
"It's a fun game," he told her carefully, "but it's a hard game. Only the best players win it."
"Oh, I'll win it all right!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. Her brow then creased with confusion. "How do you play?"
"Simple," he said. "Just put your lips together and don't blow. The first person to give up and let anything out of their mouth is the loser. We'll begin . . . " He raised his watch again and made a show of looking at it.
Linda spat her gum into a nearby basket. Becker made a face at the myriad of bright colors but managed not to say anything. "Okay," she spoke. She was almost jumping up and down in place when she turned to face him again, her joined hands swinging in front of her. "I'm ready."
"We'll begin now."
Grinning from ear to ear, Linda swayed out of the door and was remarkably silent for the first time in her life. Five minutes later, John left his office and returned to the front office, where Margaret slipped him a five dollar bill while shaking her head in amazement.
Becker grinned. "Told ya I could do it."
Linda was coming back to the front at that very moment, and she squealed in delight. John, his back to her, winced visibly. "Five minutes is five minutes," he quickly told Margaret, slipping the bill into his pocket even as Linda chanted in delight.
"I won! I won! I won!"
Grimacing, John reminded himself. She may think she had won, but he had truly won over her, for the first time getting a little piece of treasured peace in her presence! He plastered a smile over his face as he turned around. "Want to play again?" he asked eagerly.
"You only want to because you want to beat me!" she cried.
"I don't know if I could beat you," John offered. "You're so good at the game! But I did have fun! Didn't you?" He looked imploringly at her, and Linda bobbed her entire body up and down in agreement. "Good."
"We start now!" she exclaimed eagerly, her eyes shining.
Becker only grinned in return and spoke silent thanks to whatever God had finally taken pity on him and given him a way to shut up the most annoying chatterbox he'd ever had the displeasure of knowing.
The End
Title: "Becker's Reassurance"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG
Summary:
Warnings: Drabble
Challenge: This started as a prospective answer for a Gen-drabble LJ comm's weekly challenge but ended up way too long.
Date Written: 11 May, 2012
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, Margaret, and all other characters mentioned within are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. No one can own the Source of All Evil, but this particular representation of him is © & TM his respective owners, also not the author, and is used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Margaret told him once that everybody needs something in which to believe. John remembers arguing with her about that for hours, swearing he needed nothing, but after getting hit by a bus a week ago, he's started to realize there is something in which he believes. There are some things he looks for to tell him everything will be okay.
It's his morning routine. As long as everything remains the same, from the burned coffee at the diner to filching cigarettes off of Jake to Margaret's cheery disposition that makes him want to put a fist through the wall and Linda being late, Becker knows it'll be okay. If things stay normal, he won't lose his heart again, and so when Margaret bubbles about it being a beautiful day, he growls around his cigarette but comes the closest to smiling that he ever does.
It's another, average, smog-ridden day in his own spot in this freaking Hell called Earth. He won't lose his heart. He won't get hit by a bus. That's as good as it gets for him, and Becker's perfectly fine with his average, every day life. He's fine as long as he never lets in anybody else.
The End
Title: "Becker's Tweedles"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG for language
Summary:
Warnings: Slight Unusual Crossover, Uncommon Language, and Warped Humor
Disclaimer: All characters, locations, shows, and movies mentioned within are © & TM their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author, Pirate Turner. I make absolutely no profit whatsoever off of this story.
Becker growled as his small office was invaded for the dozenth time early that morning. "What is it this time?" he demanded, glaring up at Linda from his paperwork.
"Gas," the young woman stated, blinking her eyes, "is horrible."
Becker stared at her incredulously for a moment before exploding, "WHY IN THE HELL WOULD YOU COME IN HERE TO TELL ME THAT?!"
"Because I'm not going back in there," Linda replied, flouncing down into the first, and only, available chair. "Margaret - "
"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN IF MARGARET ATE ALL THE BEANS IN MEXICO! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE!"
"But it smells really, really - "
"I DON'T CARE IF IT SMELLS LIKE THE BOG OF ETERNAL STENCH! GET OUT! NOW! BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT!"
Linda scurried out the door like a scared mouse, but once safe in the hall, she stopped, confusion creasing her brow. Going slowly back into the lobby, she asked, from around the two fingers that pinched her nose closed, "Margaret, what's the Bog of Eternal Stench?"
"That's Becker when he's suffering with msg," Margaret replied without thinking. Then she looked sharply up at Linda, forgetting her slip of the tongue. "Linda," the bustling head nurse commanded, "get your fingers off of your nose, stop coming up with ridiculous notions -- as if that's even possible for you --, and get to work!"
"Hey, just because you've got IBS on Monday morning doesn't mean you've got to take it out on me!"
As the nurses squabbled, Becker, left alone in his office at last, leaned back and raised his eyes heavenward. "Why do we get stuck with all the idiots, Jareth? You've got Goblins driving you crazy, and I'm stuck with Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Twat out there! Damn, I need a smoke!" Lighting a cig, he started puffing away but still couldn't help but to wonder what it would be like to trade out just for one night.
The End
Title: "Flowers and Pests"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG
Summary:
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
He growled the moment he saw them hanging on every corner of his office. "What the Hell is this?"
Margaret gave him her usual Look. "Some people send people flowers when they lose loved ones."
"What?" he snapped.
She barely stopped her eyes from rolling. "John, for some bizarre reason, your patients actually care about you. This is their way of giving you their condolences."
"Well, get rid of it before I come back out," he commanded and slammed his door. The last thing he needed was another reminder of a person he should have known but never really had.
The End
Title: "Nothing"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG-13 due to smoking
Summary:
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Challenge: None
Word Count (excluding heading): 601
Feedback: Yes, please!
Archive: WWOMB, FF.net -- Anybody else, ask, and I'll probably grant permission.
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, and Margaret are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. No one can own the Source of All Evil, but this particular representation of him is © & TM his respective owners, also not the author, and is used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Linda cocked her head slightly to one side as she listened to the wind whistling between her ears. It was a strange sensation, and she concentrated on the odd feeling for a moment until Margaret's concerned voice broke through her thoughts or, rather, lack thereof. "Linda, are you okay?"
Linda shook herself and blinked rapidly several times. Margaret came closer to her, her concern clearly evident on her face. "What's worrying you?" she asked gently.
"Nothing," she said simply and then beamed as she realized that she had never spoken a greater truth. "Absolutely nothing!" she exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. There was nothing on her mind, and as long as the only thought that tickled her brain was empty wind, she had nothing to worry about.
"That's an understatement," Becker observed irritably.
Linda looked at him. "You're just jealous I don't have to think," she started with a proud shake of her head but was cut off by Margaret.
Margaret looked at the clock for a second time in the last ten minutes as she attempted to stop the latest budding quarrel in the office. "You got off five minutes ago," she commented to the girl who'd done nothing but sit, file her fingernails, and gaze off into space for the last ten minutes.
Linda blinked again, this time in surprise. "I did?" she questioned, her own eyes going from Margaret's face to the clock. "I've gotta ditch! I've gotta get ready for my date!" Her grin grew even larger and her eyes sparkled as she thought of the young man who would be lucky to share her companionship that night. Yes indeed, as long as there was nothing on her mind but sex, romance, and empty air, life was good!
Becker sighed as he watched Linda hurry out. He took his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and thumped them against his palm.
Margaret looked at him. "What's eating you?" she asked, though she figured she'd probably regret it as she almost always did when she asked him what was bothering him.
"I hate it when she's right," John grumped. Sticking a cigarette in his mouth, he muttered, "I'm going to smoke."
"Fine," Margaret replied airily. "Go cut another five years off of your life, but don't say I didn't warn you." Becker ignored her as he walked out.
The moment the door shut behind him, Margaret burst out laughing. She'd never thought of Linda's poor mind as something to be jealous over, but she had to admit, though she'd never do so aloud, that John had a point. The girl had absolutely no worries! Her brain was dead, but that meant it was empty of all cares and any problems. Who wouldn't sacrifice a few, if not all, of their brain cells to have such a peaceful mind and easy life?
"Ah, youth!" Margaret exclaimed, and yet, even as she shook her head and the phone began to ring with still another patient needing caring, she knew she'd gladly make that sacrifice herself in a heartbeat. Yes, Becker was definitely right for a change! It was very easy, perhaps all too easy, to be envious of Linda.
Margaret wished she could enjoy the peaceful simplicity her friend knew for just a moment, but then, with a sigh, she resigned herself to her chaotic, adult life and picked up the phone. She promptly got blasted by a senile, old woman who blamed the doctor for her own failure to remember to take her medications. Margaret soon found herself fervently wishing that she could be like Linda just for one day.
The End
Title: "Oh, God!"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: G
Summary:
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!" Linda cried, racing into the office.
"Don't bring Him in here!" Becker thundered the last thing he should have around Margaret.
She immediately bustled up into his face. "He's already here, John! He's everywhere, and rather or not you want Him here, He's here and loves you! Linda," she glanced to Linda, "what's wrong?"
"I'm having a real crisis! I broke a nail and lost my clippers!"
"You're on your own."
"I thought you said He's everywhere," John reminded her.
"God and I have more important things to do," Margaret replied and left them alone.
The End
Title: "The Power of Words"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG
Summary:
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Challenge: None
Word Count (excluding heading): 390
Feedback: Yes, please!
Archive: WWOMB, FF.net -- Anybody else, ask, and I'll probably grant permission.
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, and Margaret are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. No one can own the Source of All Evil, but this particular representation of him is © & TM his respective owners, also not the author, and is used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"DON'T YOU EVER LEARN?!" Becker thundered when he finally got a chance to walk up front again after having been dealing with one emergency after another. He tossed a stack of papers on the desk and whirled to turn his wrath fully upon Linda. "TWO STROKES, THREE HEART ATTACKS, AND A FOUR-WAY WRECK!" he shouted, referring to the patients he'd spent the last several hours working on in his tiny office in the suburbs. They should have gone to the hospital, but instead they'd all come to him!
Linda blinked at him. "What does that have to do with me?" she asked in a meek voice.
"YOU SAID THE WORD!" Becker seethed. "NEVER SAY THE WORD! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU THAT?!"
"What word?" Linda asked innocently.
"SLOW, YOU MORONIC -- " Becker's next words were drowned out by the sudden screeching brakes, blaring horns, and slamming and crunching of metal that hurtled to them from outside. He threw up his hands. "NOW YOU'VE MADE ME SAY IT, YOU IDIOT!"
He glared at Margaret as he headed for the streets of Chicago at the fastest pace he could manage which was only a very brisk walk. "Do something useful for a change while I'm out, will you, and duck tape her mouth shut?!"
Margaret turned her sternest gaze upon Linda as the door swung shut behind Becker. "I know, I know," the young woman said, holding up her own hands in surrender. "I screwed up again."
"Yes, you did," Margaret replied with a bustling nod. "How many times do we have to tell you not to say that word, Linda? It's as bad as quiet!"
Both women's eyes shot as wide as saucers as a gigantic slamming sound reverberated throughout the office from the road. "Oh, goodness, I hope that wasn't Becker!" Margaret cried.
"It would serve him right," Linda groused.
"Linda!" Margaret exclaimed, her eyes and mouth both wide with shock.
In the middle of the busy street outside, Becker's cigarette fell out of his mouth onto the pavement below as he stared at the wreck that had happened not five feet away from where he currently stood. "MARGARET!!!" he bellowed. He didn't know what she had done, but after having already spooked the daylights out of Linda, he was certain it could only be his head nurse trying to kill him yet again!
The End
Title: "Too Little Patience, Too Little Time"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG for mild language
Summary:
Warnings: Bob Bashing -- Hey, don't look at me like that! I like Bob! Honest, I do! He's just . . . so easily bashed, is all! :-)
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, Bob, Margaret, and Reggie are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
He walked into the office to find complete chaos. Patients were everywhere, sitting in chairs, kneeling on the floor, leaning against the wall, pounding on the desk, filing out the door . . . They hung on every available crevice. The storm behind John Becker's angry gaze slowly grew and then exploded as he was nearly knocked into by the dangling feet of one hanging on the ceiling fan. "BOB, GET DOWN FROM THERE!" he bellowed. Whirling on his two inept employees, he demanded, "MARGARET, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"
"Now, John, honestly there's no need to use such ugly language -- "
"I'd be glad to, Becker, but I can't get down from up here! That's why I'm still here! Or do you think I just like hanging around your dull, boring office like a long, overgrown ornament?! And can't you do something about this place?! I mean, it just screams tacky, stiff, and, well, you!"
Becker glared at him, but Bob had been hanging upside down so long that all his blood had rushed to his head and with it had gone his sense. "Even the magazines are so far out of date that they go back to the '90s!"
"I don't know who you pissed off to the point they put you up there," Becker told Bob as he grabbed his legs and sent him on a whirl, "but I can't decide whether to cuss them out or thank them."
"Hey!" Bob protested. At Becker's hard glare, he lamented only a tad bit, "Well, you never thank any one."
He shrugged. "I could start. I could give him free doctoring for life."
Bob scoffed. "Like any one would want your doctoring!"
"Then what are you doing here?"
"I came by for my lunch date with Linda, and some jerk put me up here. He was mad because of your scheduling. She's been swinging with me, but Margaret pulled her down and now she's looking at some guy over there." He swung fists helplessly at the direction of the man Linda was busily chatting up and batting her eyelashes for.
Becker was about to yell at Linda when Bob's words hit him. "Wait a minute! My scheduling?!" At Bob's nod, Becker thundered out at the top of his lungs, making the windows shake and every one in the room, including the big biker who stood in the corner, glaring at Bob, cringe. "MARGARET!!!
Margaret finally stopped her tirade at Becker's language. Her mouth hung wide open for a full minute before she snapped back to her normal, bustling self. "Now, John, you didn't have to yell. I'm right here -- "
He whirled on her, and she would swear later that his fierce eyes felt as though they could have burned a hole straight through her. "MY SCHEDULING?! FIX IT!!! FIX IT ALL RIGHT NOW, STARTING WITH THIS!" He ripped Bob unceremoniously down from the fan and dumped him on top of Margaret. Margaret held him for a second, taken completely by surprise, and then let him fall to the floor, where, in her opinion, he belonged. Becker grabbed for his jacket and barely missed a wad of gum being shot from a teenager. "FIX IT ALL BY THE TIME I GET BACK FROM LUNCH OR I'LL FIRE YOU AND LINDA CAN RUN THE DAMN PLACE!"
"Linda?! Linda couldn't run a-a newspaper stand, let alone a doctor's office!"
"Really?" Linda called from where her chosen hunk of the moment had his muscular arm wrapped around her slender waist. She beamed at Becker, who only growled even more ferociously.
"I can't believe it either, but what choice do I have?! I told you to stop scheduling these damn people at three for every fifteen minutes! NO MORE or I'll have your job! " He began shoving his way through the throng of sick people pouring themselves into his office. "AND IT DAMN SURE BETTER BE FIXED BEFORE I GET BACK FROM HAVING MY LOUSY CUP OF COFFEE AT REGGIE'S!"
Margaret stood, still in shock, after Becker had disappeared. She blinked slowly and then promptly walked over Bob on her way to her desk and faithful clipboard. "Linda -- "
"Don't Linda me! I told you this would happen! It's your mess; you fix it!" She gave her a departing raspberry as she flounced out the door.
Margaret sighed wearily, then turned to face the throng of angry people with a nervous smile. She didn't know how she would fix it, but she would . . . even if she didn't see what was wrong with her scheduling method, any way. If Becker had only been faster, after all, none of this would have happened!
His voice bellowed again from seemingly nowhere and everywhere at once, making her jump five feet high. "AND UPDATE THE DAMN MAGAZINES!" She barely heard him as he muttered on his way back out the door, "No wonder I still thought Sarah Michelle Gellar was the 'it' girl."
The End
Title: "What the Doctor Ordered"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG-13
Summary:
Warnings: None
Challenge: For a Gen-drabble LJ comm's weekly challenge
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, and Margaret are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. No one can own the Source of All Evil, but this particular representation of him is © & TM his respective owners, also not the author, and is used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"Every day, I come in, trying to be cheerful and helpful. Every day, he's in a fouler mood than before. Every day, I wonder what in the world has crawled up John Becker's pants this time!"
"That's the problem. It hasn't."
Margaret Looked at her. "Excuse me?"
Linda shrugged. "The reason he's always in such a grouch is because he never gets any action." Linda rolled her eyes. "Sex. The man needs sex!" Margaret's Look thundered. "Hey, it's not just my POV! It's a known fact! Look it up!" Linda headed for a new customer entering. "Sex: it's just what the doctor ordered!"
The End
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: G
Summary:
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, and Margaret are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"It's the same old thing every day! You can't tell me any differently; you know it is! Rashes, colds, flus, diarrhea, kidney blockages, the occasional cancers, pregnancies -- the same thing day after day after day after day after day -- "
John Becker glanced at his watch as his youngest nurse prattled on. After five minutes, she finally got pass the continuous "after day"s and resumed. He hoped it wouldn't take her long to finish her latest little Drama Queen speech.
Linda finally took a big breath, then continued almost without missing a beat, "I'm not old like you and Margaret! I'm young! I'm in the prime of my life! I need excitement! I need fun! I need new things! I need -- "
"You need excitement?"
"Yes!" she cried, throwing up her hands.
"You need fun?"
"Yes!"
"Okay," John said cautiously, steepling his fingers together in front of him as a thoughtful expression settled over his tired face. "Let's play a game."
"A game?" Linda repeated excitedly, her eyes shining with interest. At his nod, she asked, "What kind of game?"
"It's a fun game," he told her carefully, "but it's a hard game. Only the best players win it."
"Oh, I'll win it all right!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. Her brow then creased with confusion. "How do you play?"
"Simple," he said. "Just put your lips together and don't blow. The first person to give up and let anything out of their mouth is the loser. We'll begin . . . " He raised his watch again and made a show of looking at it.
Linda spat her gum into a nearby basket. Becker made a face at the myriad of bright colors but managed not to say anything. "Okay," she spoke. She was almost jumping up and down in place when she turned to face him again, her joined hands swinging in front of her. "I'm ready."
"We'll begin now."
Grinning from ear to ear, Linda swayed out of the door and was remarkably silent for the first time in her life. Five minutes later, John left his office and returned to the front office, where Margaret slipped him a five dollar bill while shaking her head in amazement.
Becker grinned. "Told ya I could do it."
Linda was coming back to the front at that very moment, and she squealed in delight. John, his back to her, winced visibly. "Five minutes is five minutes," he quickly told Margaret, slipping the bill into his pocket even as Linda chanted in delight.
"I won! I won! I won!"
Grimacing, John reminded himself. She may think she had won, but he had truly won over her, for the first time getting a little piece of treasured peace in her presence! He plastered a smile over his face as he turned around. "Want to play again?" he asked eagerly.
"You only want to because you want to beat me!" she cried.
"I don't know if I could beat you," John offered. "You're so good at the game! But I did have fun! Didn't you?" He looked imploringly at her, and Linda bobbed her entire body up and down in agreement. "Good."
"We start now!" she exclaimed eagerly, her eyes shining.
Becker only grinned in return and spoke silent thanks to whatever God had finally taken pity on him and given him a way to shut up the most annoying chatterbox he'd ever had the displeasure of knowing.
The End
Title: "Becker's Reassurance"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG
Summary:
Warnings: Drabble
Challenge: This started as a prospective answer for a Gen-drabble LJ comm's weekly challenge but ended up way too long.
Date Written: 11 May, 2012
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, Margaret, and all other characters mentioned within are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. No one can own the Source of All Evil, but this particular representation of him is © & TM his respective owners, also not the author, and is used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Margaret told him once that everybody needs something in which to believe. John remembers arguing with her about that for hours, swearing he needed nothing, but after getting hit by a bus a week ago, he's started to realize there is something in which he believes. There are some things he looks for to tell him everything will be okay.
It's his morning routine. As long as everything remains the same, from the burned coffee at the diner to filching cigarettes off of Jake to Margaret's cheery disposition that makes him want to put a fist through the wall and Linda being late, Becker knows it'll be okay. If things stay normal, he won't lose his heart again, and so when Margaret bubbles about it being a beautiful day, he growls around his cigarette but comes the closest to smiling that he ever does.
It's another, average, smog-ridden day in his own spot in this freaking Hell called Earth. He won't lose his heart. He won't get hit by a bus. That's as good as it gets for him, and Becker's perfectly fine with his average, every day life. He's fine as long as he never lets in anybody else.
The End
Title: "Becker's Tweedles"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG for language
Summary:
Warnings: Slight Unusual Crossover, Uncommon Language, and Warped Humor
Disclaimer: All characters, locations, shows, and movies mentioned within are © & TM their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author, Pirate Turner. I make absolutely no profit whatsoever off of this story.
Becker growled as his small office was invaded for the dozenth time early that morning. "What is it this time?" he demanded, glaring up at Linda from his paperwork.
"Gas," the young woman stated, blinking her eyes, "is horrible."
Becker stared at her incredulously for a moment before exploding, "WHY IN THE HELL WOULD YOU COME IN HERE TO TELL ME THAT?!"
"Because I'm not going back in there," Linda replied, flouncing down into the first, and only, available chair. "Margaret - "
"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN IF MARGARET ATE ALL THE BEANS IN MEXICO! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE!"
"But it smells really, really - "
"I DON'T CARE IF IT SMELLS LIKE THE BOG OF ETERNAL STENCH! GET OUT! NOW! BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT!"
Linda scurried out the door like a scared mouse, but once safe in the hall, she stopped, confusion creasing her brow. Going slowly back into the lobby, she asked, from around the two fingers that pinched her nose closed, "Margaret, what's the Bog of Eternal Stench?"
"That's Becker when he's suffering with msg," Margaret replied without thinking. Then she looked sharply up at Linda, forgetting her slip of the tongue. "Linda," the bustling head nurse commanded, "get your fingers off of your nose, stop coming up with ridiculous notions -- as if that's even possible for you --, and get to work!"
"Hey, just because you've got IBS on Monday morning doesn't mean you've got to take it out on me!"
As the nurses squabbled, Becker, left alone in his office at last, leaned back and raised his eyes heavenward. "Why do we get stuck with all the idiots, Jareth? You've got Goblins driving you crazy, and I'm stuck with Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Twat out there! Damn, I need a smoke!" Lighting a cig, he started puffing away but still couldn't help but to wonder what it would be like to trade out just for one night.
The End
Title: "Flowers and Pests"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG
Summary:
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
He growled the moment he saw them hanging on every corner of his office. "What the Hell is this?"
Margaret gave him her usual Look. "Some people send people flowers when they lose loved ones."
"What?" he snapped.
She barely stopped her eyes from rolling. "John, for some bizarre reason, your patients actually care about you. This is their way of giving you their condolences."
"Well, get rid of it before I come back out," he commanded and slammed his door. The last thing he needed was another reminder of a person he should have known but never really had.
The End
Title: "Nothing"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG-13 due to smoking
Summary:
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Challenge: None
Word Count (excluding heading): 601
Feedback: Yes, please!
Archive: WWOMB, FF.net -- Anybody else, ask, and I'll probably grant permission.
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, and Margaret are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. No one can own the Source of All Evil, but this particular representation of him is © & TM his respective owners, also not the author, and is used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Linda cocked her head slightly to one side as she listened to the wind whistling between her ears. It was a strange sensation, and she concentrated on the odd feeling for a moment until Margaret's concerned voice broke through her thoughts or, rather, lack thereof. "Linda, are you okay?"
Linda shook herself and blinked rapidly several times. Margaret came closer to her, her concern clearly evident on her face. "What's worrying you?" she asked gently.
"Nothing," she said simply and then beamed as she realized that she had never spoken a greater truth. "Absolutely nothing!" she exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. There was nothing on her mind, and as long as the only thought that tickled her brain was empty wind, she had nothing to worry about.
"That's an understatement," Becker observed irritably.
Linda looked at him. "You're just jealous I don't have to think," she started with a proud shake of her head but was cut off by Margaret.
Margaret looked at the clock for a second time in the last ten minutes as she attempted to stop the latest budding quarrel in the office. "You got off five minutes ago," she commented to the girl who'd done nothing but sit, file her fingernails, and gaze off into space for the last ten minutes.
Linda blinked again, this time in surprise. "I did?" she questioned, her own eyes going from Margaret's face to the clock. "I've gotta ditch! I've gotta get ready for my date!" Her grin grew even larger and her eyes sparkled as she thought of the young man who would be lucky to share her companionship that night. Yes indeed, as long as there was nothing on her mind but sex, romance, and empty air, life was good!
Becker sighed as he watched Linda hurry out. He took his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and thumped them against his palm.
Margaret looked at him. "What's eating you?" she asked, though she figured she'd probably regret it as she almost always did when she asked him what was bothering him.
"I hate it when she's right," John grumped. Sticking a cigarette in his mouth, he muttered, "I'm going to smoke."
"Fine," Margaret replied airily. "Go cut another five years off of your life, but don't say I didn't warn you." Becker ignored her as he walked out.
The moment the door shut behind him, Margaret burst out laughing. She'd never thought of Linda's poor mind as something to be jealous over, but she had to admit, though she'd never do so aloud, that John had a point. The girl had absolutely no worries! Her brain was dead, but that meant it was empty of all cares and any problems. Who wouldn't sacrifice a few, if not all, of their brain cells to have such a peaceful mind and easy life?
"Ah, youth!" Margaret exclaimed, and yet, even as she shook her head and the phone began to ring with still another patient needing caring, she knew she'd gladly make that sacrifice herself in a heartbeat. Yes, Becker was definitely right for a change! It was very easy, perhaps all too easy, to be envious of Linda.
Margaret wished she could enjoy the peaceful simplicity her friend knew for just a moment, but then, with a sigh, she resigned herself to her chaotic, adult life and picked up the phone. She promptly got blasted by a senile, old woman who blamed the doctor for her own failure to remember to take her medications. Margaret soon found herself fervently wishing that she could be like Linda just for one day.
The End
Title: "Oh, God!"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: G
Summary:
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!" Linda cried, racing into the office.
"Don't bring Him in here!" Becker thundered the last thing he should have around Margaret.
She immediately bustled up into his face. "He's already here, John! He's everywhere, and rather or not you want Him here, He's here and loves you! Linda," she glanced to Linda, "what's wrong?"
"I'm having a real crisis! I broke a nail and lost my clippers!"
"You're on your own."
"I thought you said He's everywhere," John reminded her.
"God and I have more important things to do," Margaret replied and left them alone.
The End
Title: "The Power of Words"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG
Summary:
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Challenge: None
Word Count (excluding heading): 390
Feedback: Yes, please!
Archive: WWOMB, FF.net -- Anybody else, ask, and I'll probably grant permission.
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, and Margaret are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. No one can own the Source of All Evil, but this particular representation of him is © & TM his respective owners, also not the author, and is used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"DON'T YOU EVER LEARN?!" Becker thundered when he finally got a chance to walk up front again after having been dealing with one emergency after another. He tossed a stack of papers on the desk and whirled to turn his wrath fully upon Linda. "TWO STROKES, THREE HEART ATTACKS, AND A FOUR-WAY WRECK!" he shouted, referring to the patients he'd spent the last several hours working on in his tiny office in the suburbs. They should have gone to the hospital, but instead they'd all come to him!
Linda blinked at him. "What does that have to do with me?" she asked in a meek voice.
"YOU SAID THE WORD!" Becker seethed. "NEVER SAY THE WORD! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU THAT?!"
"What word?" Linda asked innocently.
"SLOW, YOU MORONIC -- " Becker's next words were drowned out by the sudden screeching brakes, blaring horns, and slamming and crunching of metal that hurtled to them from outside. He threw up his hands. "NOW YOU'VE MADE ME SAY IT, YOU IDIOT!"
He glared at Margaret as he headed for the streets of Chicago at the fastest pace he could manage which was only a very brisk walk. "Do something useful for a change while I'm out, will you, and duck tape her mouth shut?!"
Margaret turned her sternest gaze upon Linda as the door swung shut behind Becker. "I know, I know," the young woman said, holding up her own hands in surrender. "I screwed up again."
"Yes, you did," Margaret replied with a bustling nod. "How many times do we have to tell you not to say that word, Linda? It's as bad as quiet!"
Both women's eyes shot as wide as saucers as a gigantic slamming sound reverberated throughout the office from the road. "Oh, goodness, I hope that wasn't Becker!" Margaret cried.
"It would serve him right," Linda groused.
"Linda!" Margaret exclaimed, her eyes and mouth both wide with shock.
In the middle of the busy street outside, Becker's cigarette fell out of his mouth onto the pavement below as he stared at the wreck that had happened not five feet away from where he currently stood. "MARGARET!!!" he bellowed. He didn't know what she had done, but after having already spooked the daylights out of Linda, he was certain it could only be his head nurse trying to kill him yet again!
The End
Title: "Too Little Patience, Too Little Time"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG for mild language
Summary:
Warnings: Bob Bashing -- Hey, don't look at me like that! I like Bob! Honest, I do! He's just . . . so easily bashed, is all! :-)
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, Bob, Margaret, and Reggie are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
He walked into the office to find complete chaos. Patients were everywhere, sitting in chairs, kneeling on the floor, leaning against the wall, pounding on the desk, filing out the door . . . They hung on every available crevice. The storm behind John Becker's angry gaze slowly grew and then exploded as he was nearly knocked into by the dangling feet of one hanging on the ceiling fan. "BOB, GET DOWN FROM THERE!" he bellowed. Whirling on his two inept employees, he demanded, "MARGARET, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"
"Now, John, honestly there's no need to use such ugly language -- "
"I'd be glad to, Becker, but I can't get down from up here! That's why I'm still here! Or do you think I just like hanging around your dull, boring office like a long, overgrown ornament?! And can't you do something about this place?! I mean, it just screams tacky, stiff, and, well, you!"
Becker glared at him, but Bob had been hanging upside down so long that all his blood had rushed to his head and with it had gone his sense. "Even the magazines are so far out of date that they go back to the '90s!"
"I don't know who you pissed off to the point they put you up there," Becker told Bob as he grabbed his legs and sent him on a whirl, "but I can't decide whether to cuss them out or thank them."
"Hey!" Bob protested. At Becker's hard glare, he lamented only a tad bit, "Well, you never thank any one."
He shrugged. "I could start. I could give him free doctoring for life."
Bob scoffed. "Like any one would want your doctoring!"
"Then what are you doing here?"
"I came by for my lunch date with Linda, and some jerk put me up here. He was mad because of your scheduling. She's been swinging with me, but Margaret pulled her down and now she's looking at some guy over there." He swung fists helplessly at the direction of the man Linda was busily chatting up and batting her eyelashes for.
Becker was about to yell at Linda when Bob's words hit him. "Wait a minute! My scheduling?!" At Bob's nod, Becker thundered out at the top of his lungs, making the windows shake and every one in the room, including the big biker who stood in the corner, glaring at Bob, cringe. "MARGARET!!!
Margaret finally stopped her tirade at Becker's language. Her mouth hung wide open for a full minute before she snapped back to her normal, bustling self. "Now, John, you didn't have to yell. I'm right here -- "
He whirled on her, and she would swear later that his fierce eyes felt as though they could have burned a hole straight through her. "MY SCHEDULING?! FIX IT!!! FIX IT ALL RIGHT NOW, STARTING WITH THIS!" He ripped Bob unceremoniously down from the fan and dumped him on top of Margaret. Margaret held him for a second, taken completely by surprise, and then let him fall to the floor, where, in her opinion, he belonged. Becker grabbed for his jacket and barely missed a wad of gum being shot from a teenager. "FIX IT ALL BY THE TIME I GET BACK FROM LUNCH OR I'LL FIRE YOU AND LINDA CAN RUN THE DAMN PLACE!"
"Linda?! Linda couldn't run a-a newspaper stand, let alone a doctor's office!"
"Really?" Linda called from where her chosen hunk of the moment had his muscular arm wrapped around her slender waist. She beamed at Becker, who only growled even more ferociously.
"I can't believe it either, but what choice do I have?! I told you to stop scheduling these damn people at three for every fifteen minutes! NO MORE or I'll have your job! " He began shoving his way through the throng of sick people pouring themselves into his office. "AND IT DAMN SURE BETTER BE FIXED BEFORE I GET BACK FROM HAVING MY LOUSY CUP OF COFFEE AT REGGIE'S!"
Margaret stood, still in shock, after Becker had disappeared. She blinked slowly and then promptly walked over Bob on her way to her desk and faithful clipboard. "Linda -- "
"Don't Linda me! I told you this would happen! It's your mess; you fix it!" She gave her a departing raspberry as she flounced out the door.
Margaret sighed wearily, then turned to face the throng of angry people with a nervous smile. She didn't know how she would fix it, but she would . . . even if she didn't see what was wrong with her scheduling method, any way. If Becker had only been faster, after all, none of this would have happened!
His voice bellowed again from seemingly nowhere and everywhere at once, making her jump five feet high. "AND UPDATE THE DAMN MAGAZINES!" She barely heard him as he muttered on his way back out the door, "No wonder I still thought Sarah Michelle Gellar was the 'it' girl."
The End
Title: "What the Doctor Ordered"
Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG-13
Summary:
Warnings: None
Challenge: For a Gen-drabble LJ comm's weekly challenge
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: John Becker, Linda, and Margaret are © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. No one can own the Source of All Evil, but this particular representation of him is © & TM his respective owners, also not the author, and is used without permission. Everything else is © & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"Every day, I come in, trying to be cheerful and helpful. Every day, he's in a fouler mood than before. Every day, I wonder what in the world has crawled up John Becker's pants this time!"
"That's the problem. It hasn't."
Margaret Looked at her. "Excuse me?"
Linda shrugged. "The reason he's always in such a grouch is because he never gets any action." Linda rolled her eyes. "Sex. The man needs sex!" Margaret's Look thundered. "Hey, it's not just my POV! It's a known fact! Look it up!" Linda headed for a new customer entering. "Sex: it's just what the doctor ordered!"
The End
