DISCLAIMER: I don't own Scrubs or any of the characters, nor do I endorse choking people.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
"Did you manage to fall in or something?" It's been ten minutes since Elliot stormed into the bathroom, and Jordan is getting impatient.
"I'm looking at my neck." Elliot pokes her head through the door, frowning. "I think I'm going to have a bruise."
"Not my fault that you're pasty."
"Not your fault?! Jordan, you choked me while we had sex!" Elliot practically shrieks. "It's totally your fault!"
"Whatever." Jordan sighs. "Are you coming back to bed or what? I only have the babysitter for another 2 hours."
"Yeah," Elliot says as she disappears back into the bathroom. "It's just I'm going to have to wear a neckerchief or something. Do you know how bad that's going to look with my scrubs?"
"Almost as bad as a neckerchief looks with anything?" Jordan suggests. She hears the pout in Elliot's voice, though, so she continues. "Just don't wear one. Tell everyone I beat you."
Jordan hears Elliot move to the kitchen and rummage around in the refrigerator. "Disturbing as it is that you think that's a more socially appropriate excuse," she calls, "I'm going to have to pass. Besides," Elliot says as she enters the bedroom, "since that fantasy was apparently yours, it's my turn." She walks over to the bed and dumps a sack of apples and a poncho on it. "Habla Español, Manuela?"
Jordan rolls her eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time that day and pulls Elliot down to the bed with her. "Si, idiota."
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