|His Insomnia's Aftermath
Author: Elise Davidson PM
JD/Cox, Jordan/Elliot. Don't like, don't look. "It all started with those stupid mancards, crazy Jill Tracy, Mrs. Wilk and that stupid urologist". Rated T for now.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Romance - Chapters: 2 - Words: 10,994 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 10 - Follows: 16 - Updated: 09-08-08 - Published: 09-02-08 - id: 4516328
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title of Series: His Insomnia's Aftermath
Chapter Title: Her Silly Rumor
Author: Elise Davidson
Rating: MA eventually, PG-12 for this installment
Pairings: JD/Cox, Jordan/Elliot
Warnings: Slash, Het, Femmeslash, Angst
Chapter: 2 of 20
Author's Notes: I apologize beforehand for chapter/story title discrepancies. The name of the story is His Insomnia's Aftermath, as it was Perry's bout with dreams that started everything else.
I apologize for the long time; quicker than most of my updates, right? But again, school's been rearing its very ugly head this semester; I've a lot I should've done tonight, but this one's been in my head all day. Now that I have a clue as to what I'm doing with Jordan and Elliot, they should be easier to write.
Well, 'nuff said. Hope you enjoy!
Shout Out:To Quaxo, aka MostePotente, for one of the final scenes. Go read her JD/Cox Discovery table! It's amazingly written, and very amusing/touching to read. Good stuff. Anyhow, I based one of those final scenes off of her first prompt. It's not word-for-word, but she deserves the shout-out muchly because her JD/Cox table is just so damn cute! Lurve you, C-dawg!
Chapter Two: Her Silly Rumor
Rain pattered quietly against the window, washing away the stickiness of the humidity. Cool, dry air replaced it, making it feel more like winter than spring.
Jordan hated cold weather. She frowned in her office, tapping a pencil restlessly and thoughtfully in front of her. Something was niggling at the back of her mind, and the coolish, rainy weather only made her more introspective.
Of course, she hated being introspective as well. Thinking about an issue wasn't her style; doing something about it was closer.
Jordan leaned back in her chair. Perry had been as jumpy as a baby kitten lately, and twice as clingy. The symptoms were familiar, that was for damn sure, but some were missing all together.
After all, Per-bear hadn't been working any later than usual. He didn't smell heavily of cologne (which he classically used to cover up a perfume), and he'd finally started sleeping again (for which Jordan was extremely grateful; his tossing, turning and early waking had begun to intrude upon her own solid 7 hours a night).
Jordan couldn't really tell if his mood had improved because of gained sleep or the affair, however. Hell, she wasn't even sure he was having an affair.
Blowing a piece of hair out of her eyes, Jordan threw her pencil down. Honestly, Per-bear was worse than a girl sometimes, sending out mixed signals and never saying anything directly.
Jordan finally whisked her suit-jacket off the back of her chair. Hell, she'd just ask him.
Feeling much better about the situation on the whole, an easy smirk slipped onto her face. This was more like it; the direct approach had always worked before, and it would again.
Jordan Sullivan, after all, was no fool, and she sure as hell wasn't going to start now. She exited her office, locking the door securely behind her, and started easily down the hallway.
Fool or not, she wasn't going to look a damn thing like Blonde Stick did when a purpose was in mind.
Elliot haphazardly tied her hair from her eyes, despite the fact she'd spent meticulous time getting it to wave perfectly this morning. It wasn't often that she absolutely had to get it out of her eyes anymore, but this was definitely one of those times.
Hell if she knew where JD had run off to; he seemed to simply be avoiding everyone but Turk or Carla at this point. She couldn't pinpoint his attitude, but, too busy with potential wedding plans with Keith, Elliot had dismissed it.
Her patient's code had been unexpected, even if Elliot was far gone from the days of desperately trying to prove herself to anyone who would stand within a five-mile radius of her. The man was fairly old, after all, and recovering from open-heart surgery. She would have been surprised if he hadn't coded.
Elliot was still disappointed when he died. She sighed as she removed her gloves, glaring out the door as she wondered just where JD or even Dr. Cox had disappeared to.
The doubt arose immediately in her mind from habit of the years that maybe if one of them had been around, the man would have lived.
Elliot took her hair back down, running her fingers quickly through it. She winced when the strands caught on her nails, pain bringing her back a little to the reality of the situation.
Carla maneuvered a chart to its slot, and looked up as Elliot approached. "Didn't make it?" she asked, recognizing the vaguely disappointed look on Elliot's face.
"He should have," Elliot muttered, straightening her lab coat. "Maybe he would have if the fricking on-call resident attending and attending residency director had been here!"
Her emphasis didn't pull either one out of the wood work. Elliot glanced back to Carla.
"Where's JD? I thought he was on the schedule today too."
Carla snorted derisively. "He is, Elliot. I've seen him around here and there; he just finished up with Mrs. Reynolds's history."
Elliot looked vaguely towards the beds, though she hadn't the faintest idea as to where Mrs. Reynolds was. There was still no sign of JD. She glanced back at Carla, only to note a slightly-knowing look on the nurse's face.
"Okay, what do you know?" Elliot asked, leaning over the counter.
Carla waved an admonishing finger at Elliot. "I don't gossip anymore, Elliot; you know that."
Elliot rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Right. Come on, what's going on?"
Carla looked around for a moment before standing up to speak with Elliot quietly.
A few moments later, Elliot's eyes widened almost comically. "No!"
"I just tell what I've heard."
"There's no way."
"Well, it's not just what I've heard; it's what I've seen."
"What do you mean?"
"Elliot, they haven't been in the same room together for months."
"You really haven't been paying much attention, have you?"
It was Carla's eyes that widened this time, and she twisted Elliot through her lab coat. "Too mean!"
Elliot yelped. "Ouch, too hard!"
"Aw, love taps getting too hard for you now?" Jordan asked briskly as she rounded the corner. "Stick, you're gonna have to lose that baby-skin of yours if you ever want to get any better in the sack than what you were in college."
Elliot rolled her eyes. "Heard it, tried it, got better."
Jordan raised an eyebrow. "TMI, Stick, but it sounds interesting." She yawned a moment. "Never mind, I lied. So, what's the hot gossip, ladies?"
Carla twitched as she glared at Elliot. "Ask her; I've got work to do."
Elliot felt color creeping into her cheeks as Jordan looped an arm through hers and began leading her out of the ICU and into the narrow corridors.
Jordan glanced distastefully at the dingy walls. "Someone really ought to clean those up," she muttered, and then turned back to Elliot. "So, Stick. Fill me in."
Janitor, whenever Blonde Doctor was around, always made it a point to watch her at least a little. Even if they didn't have little children who were, admittedly, probably not theirs as Janitor had a small hook-up to free kids, Blonde Doctor still treated him like a real person.
The demon lady beside of her, however, he had no such attachments to. He frowned at the comment, and even the nervous, frightened gaze on Blonde Doctor's face.
Maybe he could switch targets a while.
Jordan swung the corner, arm interlocked tightly with Elliot's enough that the blonde girl couldn't have yanked off even if she tried hard.
The easy smile remained on Jordan's face as she steered them toward her office. Once they were inside however, her features melted into an accusing stare that made Elliot feel quite like she used to whenever her mother was in the general vicinity.
"I don't know anything!" Elliot snapped. "I thought we'd gotten past this whole thing where you-"
"Blah, blah, high school sucked, blah, blah," Jordan cut her off. "Sweetie, you're gonna have to learn to grow a backbone." She gave a long sweep up and down Elliot's figure. "Though lowering your vocal pitch might help too." She crossed her arms firmly, hating that she had to work this hard just to get information out of Elliot.
Since when had Blonde Stick actually stood up to her? Well, sure, they'd broached a tentative friendship over the past few years, but it wasn't like they actually hung out together.
Though they'd had a romping good conversation about JD's techniques in bed.
Jordan kept her gaze steady, watching as red slowly creeped into Elliot's cheeks and the younger woman started to fidget. Simply biding her time, Jordan only remained still and kept staring.
Elliot felt her gaze flickering from Jordan to the right and then to the left. Steady, even gazes tended to unnerve her, especially when someone seemed to know she was lying.
Jordan cocked her head to the side, quirking one eyebrow up. "You have somewhere you need to be?"
Elliot remained silent.
Sighing, Jordan fell back on old habits. They had always worked so well in the past.
Jordan carefully approached Elliot, making sure her movements were slow and deliberate, as if to let the blonde woman know what she was doing.
"Now look, stick, I don't know who you're pretending to protect, but I'm not going to stand for it. So if you'll kindly spill whatever the nurse's mouth blabbed to you, I'll be most appreciative." Jordan made sure then to invade as much of Elliot's personal space as she could, her shoulders and breasts nearly touching the other woman's.
Elliot's hand suddenly shot to her neck, as if to reach for something. She stuttered for a moment before blurting out something in a very quick, high-pitched tone.
"What was that?" Jordan asked, blinking in surprise. Surprise didn't come easy to her, and when it did, she regularly found herself off guard.
Elliot's eyes were wider than Jordan had seen them in a long time. "I still have a rape whistle, and I swear to god I'll blow it louder than anything you've ever heard if you…" She trailed off almost pitifully, as if she were afraid to say anything else.
Jordan rolled her eyes then, struggling to remain composed and easy-going. "Oh, Christ, Stick…would you let up with the rape-whistle already? Give me the goods and you can be on your merry, skinny way."
Elliot's hand remained near her neck, fingers holding her flimsy, teal blouse with fingers that suddenly seemed to twitch in a very old habit of circulation.
"I'm not telling you."
"Well, somebody will tell someone, but you're hearing it hot. I want to know what it is. You wouldn't be so coy if it didn't have something to do with dear little Per-bear or DJ. Since it can't be about little baby spice, then it must be about Perry, so spill."
Elliot's face went completely red then, and Jordan's easy gaze slipped away. It was difficult for Elliot to tell because the change was so imperceptible, but Elliot was still, first and foremost, a doctor.
And, as a doctor, she watched as some of the color seemed to melt from Jordan's face. The look didn't.
Jordan rolled her eyes. "Sweetie, you've got to do better than that if you're ever going to be one of the grown-up girls around here." She didn't move herself from Elliot's personal bubble, but noted with vaguely concealed interest that Elliot's hands continued to flex.
"I don't know anything, and you're making me uncomfortable," Elliot finally burst out, wincing when she realized how loud her voice had been. She finally let her hand drop and stepped away, as if she had suddenly noticed that she could move away too. "And it's very unprofessional of you to ask me."
Jordan didn't seem fazed, but then again, she hardly ever was. "Oh please, Stick," she said with a dismissing wave of her hand. "You had your nose so far up Carla's ass for the hot gossip that you could probably taste whatever she had for dinner."
Elliot's nose wrinkled. "That's just…gross. If you'll excuse me, I have patients."
Jordan frowned at the high-handed tone. She hadn't taught Stick that; she had no right to use it with her.
Elliot went for the door, struggling not to look like a caged animal who had just found the exit. She went for the handle, screaming victory for once against the resident devil of the hospital, but as she went to pull it, Jordan slammed her fist against it and managed to shove her foot to the bottom as well.
"You're not leaving this room until I'm satisfied."
Elliot sent her a withering stare. She had patients to take care of if she wanted to leave by 5:30, and besides, why the hell was she protecting Jordan's nonexistent feelings anyway?
"Fine, you want to know?" Elliot finally said. She either ignored or didn't see the slap of surprise against Jordan's face at the snippy tone.
"That's why I'm holding the door shut. I can see why Perry calls you Barbie."
"Carla said that she heard from Nurse Tisdale who overheard Laverne telling Dr. Lewis from Pediatrics that-"
"Spit it out."
Elliot shifted, and finally stepped back from the door. "Somebody told me that they saw Perry tearing out of the break room like a bat out of hell, and when JD came out later, he looked like someone had either punched him or shocked him. You do the math." Elliot looked pointedly at the door. "Can I please go now, Ms. Sullivan?"
Jordan looked at her for a long moment and finally let go of the door. "Drinks later, dear? We must do this again."
Elliot glared at the sarcasm, but knew that Jordan was seriously asking her for drinks. "If you must."
Jordan rolled her eyes. "Scram." She turned away, obviously deigning the conversation over.
Elliot seethed; she had been so close to winning a stupid argument, and now she felt guilt clawing at her for the completely unemotional look on Jordan's features as the woman sat down at her desk to work on something that Elliot was pretty sure didn't exist.
Elliot approached her slowly, knowing that when coming near a very angry dog, it was best to walk quietly.
"Jordan, it's just a rumor. You know Perry; he probably just punched the hell out of him."
Jordan looked up. "Christ, Stick…I said scram. When I need a gal-pal, I'll let you know."
"Friends listen to each other."
"Aw, sweetie…and you haven't even bought me dinner yet," Jordan snapped and stood up again. "What part of scram didn't you understand? Unless you're about to reveal that DJ really was your first, I'm not interested."
The hurtful remark did the trick, and Elliot blew a piece of hair from her face. "Fine. Sit here and wallow till you rot." She spun on her heel and slammed the door behind her.
Jordan rolled her eyes and sat back down. When she was sure the door was locked, she ran a hand through her hair as thoughts streamed through her mind.
Oddly enough, getting the information hadn't angered her much. Of course, it was annoying that Perry had finally grown a pair and proved he didn't have girl-parts.
What Jordan couldn't figure out for the life of her was why she'd had far too much fun trying to wrangle it from Elliot in the first place.
Now that, on the other hand, was both intolerable and infuriating.
Perry did work late this time, Jordan noticed. He had even called and told her not to wait up. She did anyway, of course, just like she always did.
It was only eight PM as it was. Having thought she would be talking this out with Perry, Jordan had offered Jack up to her mother for the night. It had the added bonus of making Perry mad or saying something funny about her mother.
Both of which would make her laugh.
Jordan ticked her fingers on her knee in thought. She'd offered drinks up with Elliot, but since the episode in the office, she had opted instead to wait for Perry.
But now that there was no Perry, it would be just be weird if she didn't get trashed to some extent.
Jordan rolled her eyes at the indecisiveness running through her, and finally decided to go to the bar. It wouldn't be the first time she'd ever drank alone if Elliot wasn't there, and it wasn't going to make or break her night either.
With a sigh (one which if anyone in the near vicinity had heard it, would've taken the classic double-take in wonder if that had actually been Jordan or not) that was both weary and indecisive, Jordan finally checked her hair and exited the apartment.
Jordan hated surprises.
So she pushed it down when she saw Elliot sitting at a table near the darker end of the bar, drinking something that looked suspiciously bright. Sitting beside of her was a glass of gin and tonic that had barely started condensing water on its edge.
Jordan sat down breezily, determined to keep this light. "So, stranger. Waiting for me, huh?"
Elliot didn't splutter like she used to. She did, however, give Jordan a cool look that Jordan recognized as being one she effected all the time.
Jordan hated that she'd seemed to have taught Elliot everything she knew.
"If you're going to drink, do it."
Jordan wasn't stupid; she recognized the grief in Elliot's face and the way her hands were all too steady. She'd seen Perry bring it home enough to know it meant the blonde had simply had a bad day after the office.
"I don't take kindly to orders, but since you're private practice with a much fatter bank roll than Perry, I'll take you up on it." Jordan tipped some of the wintery-tasting gin down her throat.
Jordan loved pine trees, though she'd never tell anyone it was why she chose gin half the time.
"Are you okay?" Elliot finally asked after a moment, looking at Jordan's face carefully with a doctor's calculating gaze.
Jordan waved a hand. "Quit trying to psychoanalyze me, Stick. I don't need your advice or your pity."
Elliot glared at her again, and Jordan wondered when Elliot had stopped being that frightened, mousy-haired little girl that was barely a blip on anyone's radar.
Tossing her hair almost regally over her shoulder, Elliot settled her chin on a hand. "You could probably go for some counseling, but god knows you'd bite the guy before he had a chance to tell you what your problem is."
Jordan narrowed her eyes, and if Perry had been in the room, he would have begun to yell about getting away before the demon performed the rare corpse explosion that tended to decimate all within a one meter radius.
"I came out for drinks; I didn't come here to be insulted by someone who's still too pathetic to realize what she really wants," Jordan snapped back.
Elliot reeled in the hurt quickly, but not fast enough for Jordan to miss the strike of hurt that flashed across her features.
"I came out here to be your friend," Elliot finally tried, but wasn't brave enough to reach for her hand. "Rumor or not, it makes for a bitchy introspection. You and Perry don't exactly have the best track record."
Jordan felt the urge now to make the blonde nervous; it was unnerving to talk about (blech) feelings. She stared at Elliot for a minute, fingers wiping the cool drops of water from the half-empty glass before her.
"I'm not one to let a rumor kill my buzz, Stick," Jordan informed her finally, and tipped the rest of her glass down her throat. Cold liquid ran down her throat, no burn registering from the piney taste. "Besides, let Per-bear have his little boy-toy. I'm ready to roll onto somewhere new."
Elliot's head shot up, and her hands remained firmly on the table around her glass of bright, mixed drink-alcohol. She stared at Jordan in a calculating fashion that was all too familiar to Jordan herself, who had seen it in Perry's eyes and even DJ's a time or two.
"No way." Elliot stood then and slapped a few bills on the table. Her hands felt cold again. She didn't resist the urge this time to clench and unclench them in an old, horrible habit that she hated as she stood to leave.
Jordan quirked an eyebrow at the movement of Elliot's fists, and shot a hand out to snatch Elliot's wrist.
Elliot whirled around, sitting back down with an undignified thump that only made her palms colder. She raised calm eyes to Jordan, whose face wasn't holding its usual mean scowl or its tight features.
"Come on, Stick. You can't be that much of a prude."
Jordan waved a hand. "If all you're going to do is moan out your cutie boyfriend's name while I'm making you see God, this ends now."
Nerves on edge for reasons Jordan hated, she felt Elliot's muscles flex under her fingers. She wasn't sure why it suddenly mattered so much that she come out of this being in control.
Jordan swore it was because she wanted to get back at Perry for any rumor she'd ever heard about him. What better way to get back at him then to sleep with one of the more attractive women in the hospital?
And it wasn't the first time Jordan had swung that way, though God knew she was out of practice since Jack had been born.
Elliot still stared at her, but she hadn't risen again yet. "You're serious, aren't you?"
Jordan threw her wrist down then, and now it was she that stood to leave. "You're obviously going to turn this into some stupid, high school, immature, drama-hour that I really want nothing to do with. Go play it out with DJ or Nurse Tisdale." She turned sharply to go outside and find a different bar.
Well, a different zip code.
Jordan hated it when the cool air outside stung her red cheeks. Jordan Sullivan did not blush, nor did she get embarrassed.
She stood outside her car for a moment, hand on the window, feeling as if nothing had gone according to plan. Hell, she didn't even know why she'd brought it up in the first place, but she did know it had nothing to do with Perry.
Jordan jumped when a very cold hand grabbed her hand, and whirled with her purse ready.
Unfortunately, it managed to whack Elliot right in the shoulder.
"Frick a brick on a stick!" Elliot punched out in a frequency that Jordan was certain only females and dolphins could hear.
"What the hell do you want, Stick?" Jordan snarled at her, hating that Elliot had gotten to her at all.
What she needed as a good drink the size of her head and a happy pill, Jordan found herself thinking in her head. Anything to forget this night all together.
Elliot was still staring at her, and the paler woman's hand was icy on her skin. Her fingers were moving reflexively, and Jordan wondered if that simply a nervous habit now.
"I'm waiting, and I really have other places to be." Jordan peeled Elliot's hand off of her wrist slowly and deliberately. "And other, far more cooler people to be hanging out with, though I've a need to point out your hands are like ice blocks."
Elliot looked down at her hands suddenly, and the look of wide-eyed terror that flitted almost instantly over her features was gone just as quickly.
Jordan wondered if she'd seen it at all, since Elliot was now staring at her in a cool fashion that made Jordan feel as if she were staring in the mirror.
Jordan didn't know later why she did it. Maybe it was the uncertainty that had briefly crossed Elliot's face, or maybe it was just the difference between how Elliot seemed insanely calm in feature but not in her hands.
Either way, Jordan snagged a hold of Elliot's blouse, and pulled her close for a minute. It was close enough that their lips nearly touched, and breath puffed between them in small clouds of hot air.
The look stayed on Elliot's face as Jordan hated herself for the million ways this had absolutely nothing to do with Perry, and how it had everything to do with knowing that she felt something in a place she hadn't scrutinized in a very long time.
Elliot's lips were cold too, Jordan thought dimly as she suddenly kissed the younger woman, hands coming up to wrap into Elliot's hair.
Elliot jerked back first, surprise and something more crossing her face. "What'd you do that for?"
Jordan felt something shift as she watched Elliot's labored breathing. "Because I felt like it, Stick. Ready to drink now or do I have to give you a class ring so you'll go steady with me?"
Elliot stared at her for a minute, and Jordan wondered if Elliot was about to scream again.
Instead, the horribly aloof, almost disinterested look settled on Elliot's features again, and she nodded towards her car.
"Your place or mine?"
Jordan wasn't sure how she got herself into this, but she knew she sure as hell didn't want to find her way back out. Not even when Elliot's lips were warm again, though her fingers remained cold. She opted to stay just as lost when her cell phone went off while Elliot pulled her shirt off, and she hated it when she threw the offending phone back to the ground.
Perry's number had been flashing across the screen, but Jordan wasn't sure it mattered that much.
Jordan hated it much more later, when they lay in Elliot's feathery bed that smelled strongly of some masculine cologne that she assumed must be Keith. She crossed her arms firmly over her chest as Elliot slept.
With resignations, Jordan began to dress again, deciding this had been a horrible idea from the start.
"Where're you going?" a sleepy voice filtered through the darkness.
Unfamiliar all together with Elliot's room, Jordan felt her knee connect with something and she swore out loud as she thumped back to the bed.
Elliot's arms immediately wrapped around her as the younger fell back asleep.
Jordan made it a rule all together to never sleep after sex with a one-night-stand. It often got in the way of what she had one-night-stands for in the first place.
Jordan looked down at Elliot's face, where make-up had begun to fade and a little bit of the younger woman Jordan had once known began to shine through.
Sighing, Jordan eased herself back on the bed. She was too buzzed anyway, and too sleepy to really care anymore.
It didn't stop her from trying to use Perry as an excuse for why she'd done it in the first place.
Jordan was grateful the next morning that Elliot was an insanely heavier sleeper. She gathered her things quietly, cursing herself nine ways to hell and back for staying the night in the first place. Her phone was showing several missed calls, all from Perry.
Ignoring them once more, Jordan rummaged on the bedroom floor for her shirt. Christ, Stick couldn't thrown it that hard, could she?
Jordan's head snapped up when she heard the front door open and shut to the apartment. She looked around quickly and desperately, and finally snagged her shirt from the small chair in the corner of the room.
No sooner then she'd pulled it over her head then did Keith enter the room.
"Ms. Sullivan? What are you doing here?"
Jordan hoped her hair didn't look too disheveled. "Your girlfriend got trashed last night. I thought I'd wait around here and see if you were up for a quickie."
A surge of calm wove through her as Keith turned red and stuttered a no.
Jordan shrugged. "That's okay, sweetie. Maybe later." She walked calmly out of the room, then the apartment, and bolted like the wrath of god was on her heels to her car.
Sitting in her front seat, Jordan glared at her steering wheel. This just…wasn't happening.
Seriously. This just could not be happening.
Jordan sighed deeply, and drove away from the building. It was happening. She just had to accept it, fling it out, move on and get her bearings.
The car growled as she shifted the gears. That should be easy.
Jordan came to work 2 hours late that day, staring down anyone who dared to mention it. She got to her office door with a relieved feeling in her body, as her face refused to show anything had happened the previous night at all.
Head pounding and stomach churning from hangover, Jordan wrapped her fingers around the doorknob to her office, her other hand turning the key. The door swung open blissfully, and Jordan made to enter the room, hand coming from the doorknob to shut it.
Jordan jerked back, and suddenly realized her hand wasn't moving. She looked down in fury to realize her hand was completely stuck to the doorknob.
"What the fu-"
A tall man that Jordan barely recognized pushed a mop by her door. "Paint's wet," he said, as if it were obvious.
"Then where's the sign, idiot?"
Janitor looked at the door to Ms. Sullivan's office. "I must've forgotten to put it up. Just stay right there; I'll get some turpentine." He whistled as he moseyed down the hallway, mop brushing cheerily against the floor.
Jordan glared after him; her phone was too far to reach from her point at the door. She resisted the urge to scream as she began to flag someone down from the hallway.
Janitor whistled through his lips, grin making the whistle sound shrill and faint.
No one messed with Blonde Doctor.
Author's Notes: Gah, can't believe I forgot to mention this. The mini-table of 20 prompts are based on songs of my own choosing. Yes, they're very emo. Yes, probably out of character for the people themselves (with the possible exceptions of JD or Turk). But meh, I felt they fit for each one.
As such, Chapter One was "It Just Won't Quit" by Meatloaf. Chapter Two here is "Somebody Told Me" by the Killers. I hope things make more sense now; I'll try and remember to post the song it's based on as I write.
Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed!
Bells of Tomorrow: I can't promise I'll be incorporating parts of the show in future chapters; bits and pieces will, obviously, have to come back in XD But for the most part, the first chapter was set-up, though Jordan works a fair bit quicker than the boys. Thanks so much for the review; I really appreciate!
RussianWolf7:If I haven't said so before, by the way, your Jorliot table was awesome! I lurved it all! Anyway XD Thanks so much! I hope I'm doing Jordan/Elliot as much justice as you did :grins: Thanks again!
Random writer 33:Aw, thank you! I'm not the fastest updater anymore, not with school and work going on, but I hope to keep you interested! Thank you so much for the compliment; I hope you enjoy!
Thunder-kun:That's what I was going for XD So I'm glad you thought it was furious. I probably used the word too much XD Anyhow, this chapter was almost all Jordan/Elliot, but I hope you enjoyed all the same. Next chapter will be JD/Cox, I promise! Thanks again for the review :grins:
FallChild92:Thanks :grins: I'm glad you liked!