He hears the loud shout of frustration from the bedroom and an icy trill of fear slides down his spine. His eyes slide over to the calendar.
Goddammit – grandrounds aren't supposed to be until next week!
Of course, it's good that it's early and not late.
'Grandrounds' is the term he's assigned Jordan's monthly visitor – because it's about as agonizing and as long as grandrounds with Kelso, and it's the only way he can track them on the calendar without Jordan killing him. Forewarned is forearmed, after all – Except when her period comes early.
He hears the sound of stomping feet coming towards him and he can feel his balls tightening in fear. He's not had time to gather supplies (enough tampons, chocolate and Midol to do some very funny things to a horse) or to make up a bullshit conference that Kelso is 'forcing him to go to' that really is his excuse for renting a hotel room across town.
The footsteps detour into the bathroom, but he doesn't let his breath go just yet – He hears another shriek and then, most terrifyingly the sound of ripping fabric.
"These goddamn cheap ass jeans! First they're too tight and the minute I try to stretch them out they rip!"
Jordan comes around the corner, holding her pants up by the waist, the outer seam split from waistband to thigh.
"…That is unbelievable. This is what happens when everything gets made in China."
Jordan glares at him, and he fights back a cringe. He hands her his coffee immediately.
He pours himself another mug of coffee and gets the kettle started, before heading back to the bedroom.
He finds the hot water bottle underneath their bed, and digs the sweatpants he ruined that day when he helped Ben paint out of the closet.
A quick sweep of the bathroom reveals she's got plenty of – feminine necessities – to last her through this round. If he can keep her pacified long enough to get out the door, he'll be home free until the painkillers kick in.
He feels the faintest twinges of guilt as he hears her moaning softly, curled into a half ball on the couch. Growing then losing a whole organ once a month had to fucking hurt, and having it force its way out of your body in the most disgusting and messy way possible (excepting it bursting out of your chest out ala Alien) had to suck…
"Just go you big weenie – you'd think being a doctor you could handle a little bit of blood -- "
He opens his mouth to respond – but thinks better of it and throws his pants at her instead before heading into the kitchen.
"What are – are you saying I'm fat?" The hairs on the back of his neck prickle as her voice arcs up into that pitch that means a screaming epic tantrum is near.
Time for the best boyfriend in the world act.
"No, I just thought they'd be more comfortable than what you're wearing."
He curses when he spills some of the hot water on his wrist, but manages fill the bottle to a good level before he seals it off.
Standing in front of a rather pale and bedraggled looking Jordan he begins to feel the slightest bit of sympathy. Not that she'd appreciate it – she'd probably cut off his dick so that he "could really know how it feels".
"Here," He grumbles, thrusting out the hot water bottle. "Lay down on this."
"And what," Jordan asks, but places the water bottle on the couch and stretches out over the top if it, sighing softly in relief.
He waits until she's settled in before straddling her thighs and sitting down.
"…I thought you didn't like black cherry filling?"
He holds back a noisy gag as bile scorches his throat at the very thought of – gross.
He reaches out and instead begins rubbing her shoulders, easing the tension out of them before he begins working his way down her spine. She lets out a soft pleased moan, and her eyes drift shut. He continues his massage, focusing on the lower back and hips until he can feel the tension drain out of her body, and her breathing becomes regular and steady.
Then, slowly, carefully, and quietly he eases himself off the couch and makes the for the door.