I currently have Scrubs withdrawal as it isn't being played on E4 at the moment so I wrote this to compensate, and incidentally it's my first ever fanfic that I thought was worthy of putting on here, not to mention the only one I've ever completed (perhaps because it's so short).
This doesn't really have a setting, I imagined it perhaps at some kind of fund-raising event at the hospital, or someone's bbq.
Anyway, thanks for reading :)
My Sunburn
'Looks like you're burning there, Barbie.'
Elliot glanced up into Dr Cox's concerned blue eyes. For once he was not mocking or belittling her, a shocking revelation.
She held both arms out in examination. He was correct, her pale skin was turning a faint shade of strawberry, though she'd lathered herself with suncream earlier. She tossed her blonde hair back to see her shoulders, and yes, they too were a glorious pink.
'Frick!'
Mentally cursing her suncream's SPF, she pulled the bottle from her bag and squeezed out a generous amount, hurriedly rubbing it into her arms and shoulders to avoid further burning.
She wondered where else she had caught the sun, until she realised the shadow looming above her had still not moved. Dr Cox continued to stare down at her, his scrutiny unnerving, in that special way that could so easily reduce her to self doubt.
'What?'
'You'll need some on your back.'
A strange smile hesitated on his lips, signalling alarm bells in her head. Why was he being so nice to her? Was this about to turn into some big humiliating joke after all? Then again, she supposed he knew all about sunburn, being a redhead.
He motioned for her to follow him as he walked into the shade with that swagger she knew so well, and she immediately obeyed.
Once away from prying eyes, Dr Cox spun her round and inspected her back, where the halter neck top was cut low. His fingers brushed her skin as he tucked her hair over one shoulder, making her tremble like no other had.
She handed him the bottle of suncream, biting her lip at the thoughts racing through her mind.
How she'd longed for this intimacy, how she'd suppressed it and denied it. Though he infuriated her, though he crushed her and intimidated her, all she wanted was his touch.
And suddenly it was happening, his hands working the cream into her skin with unexpected gentleness.
Her heart beat faster, the butterflies in her stomach went into overdrive, performing all kinds of acrobatics.
And she wondered, was he feeling this too?