A/N: From Elliot's POV. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Frick. Frick frickity frick frick! Why does this have to happen to me?

Elliot felt like banging her head on the steering wheel. However, she clearly remembered that last time she did that she just ended up with the sharp sound of a horn in her ear, an airbag in her face and a large bump on her forehead that made her look like a-

There's no point in reminiscing about that particular incident. Elliot thought tiredly.

It's just that this had to happen at the worst possible times. There had been barely lukewarm water in the shower, there was no food in her house and she had just received a large helping of one of Dr Cox's rants and she wasn't even at the hospital yet. And now her car won't start. Frick.

After calling the hospital to say she was going to be late, she looked around to see if there was anybody who could help her with her car. She was averse to talking to strangers, but she was desperate just to get to work so she wouldn't have to face yet another rant at the hospital, most likely from Dr Kelso this time.

As she was looking around, she saw a familiar looking Porsche.

Hang on a minute, what an earth is Dr Cox still doing here? He was in front by 3 people in the queue in the store, and he hasn't even started his car.

It dawned on Elliot that as unlikely as it was, he too seemed to have the same problem. She knew that going over to see what was wrong wasn't the best of ideas after he had just ranted at her; it would probably just result in yet another rant about leaving him alone, but it was better than sitting alone waiting for a mechanic to arrive.

She cautiously approached his car; he hadn't noticed her coming up to him as he seemed lost in thought. She gently tapped his window before timidly speaking.

'Dr Cox? Why are you still here? I would have thought you would have driven off to the hospital by now.'

Dr Cox shot an annoyed look at her having realised he had been spotted. Giving an exaggerated sigh, he admitted defeat and got out of his car so he could face her properly.

'Listen Barbie, I'm already well aware of the fact that your car has decided to go ka-putt on you too, so ya don't need to go into one of your pointless stories you seem to love to share with everyone whether they give a crap or not. I was just hiding in my car with some ray of hope that you wouldn't spot me. But hey, that plan has gone ka-putt too, so now I'm stuck here with Breakdown Barbie-

'Dr Cox!' Elliot managed to interrupt his second rant at her for the day. 'We don't have time for one of your stupid, condescending rants. Now I know it sounds hard for you, but this time we have to act like mature adults so we can both manage to get to the hospital ASAP. Ok?'

'And Backbone Barbie is making another guest appearance it seems.' Elliot glared at him, but he continued. 'Look, I've already called out a mechanic; he can just have a fun time fixing both our cars as we slowly try not to kill each other in the meantime.'

'Wait, what's wrong with your car? My battery went dead.'

'Same here Barboo. Luckily, charging up the battery doesn't take long unless of course you happen to be a mechanic. Meaning we might just be able to get to the hospital at some point today.'

'Well, both our shifts start at 8 and its 7:50 now, so technically we're not even late yet.'

'Barbie, you do realise that by the time our mechanic finishes scoffing down the deep-fried heart attack on a plate he calls a light breakfast because he 'needs the energy' since he's a growing young lad after all and you have to consider the amount of hard work and effort that goes into getting his fat arse down here and attaching-'

Elliot drowned out the sound of Dr Cox's incessant ranting. God, he must be in a real bad mood today, he never normally rants on this much, even when things start to get rough at the hospital. Well, I suppose he's having a similar bad day to me but I don't see why he has to tell the world about it.

Dr Cox showed no signs of slowing in his rant. Elliot sighed and rolled her eyes.

'- it will be the year 2012, and I'll probably be competing in the 'How far can you throw a lazy useless mechanic' category for the London Olympics, since I'll have dragged lard butt there the entire way.'

'Are you sure you shouldn't enter the Guinness book of records for 'Most amount of long winded rants in one day' category, because I'm sure you would manage to reach 5 billion.'

'Sorry, were you saying something there Blondie?' Dr Cox retorted. 'Cause it sounds like you seem to have developed a more prominent backbone.'

Elliot had had enough. Taking a deep breath, she decided to counter him with one of her own rants.

'Well, if you're going to be such a sarcastic, whiny arse the entire time we're stuck here, I have no intention on having to put up with all your stupid rants that inevitably have yet to follow about how useless our mechanic is or how you think it's horrible that you are stuck here with me, when you don't even take into consideration what it's like for me to be stuck here alone with you. It would be a whole lot easier if you just relaxed for a second and just accepted the situation, you're only making it worse for the both of us by complaining. Things aren't going to get better that way. Can't you give the ranting a rest for once?'

Elliot looked up directly into Dr Cox's eyes with a defiant look to see his reaction and if she had finally gotten through to him about how she felt.

Instead, he gave an exaggerated pained expression and muttered while walking away from her. 'My ears, why is it always my ears you have to cause pain Barbie? It just sounds like you're trying to communicate with dogs the entire time...'

Elliot felt like crying in frustration, but she knew that if she did it would mean Dr Cox had won yet again, and she wouldn't allow that right now.

'No wonder Jordan always goes away to her mothers with Jack.' She shouted after him. 'She says that she can only take so much of your sarcasm and drinking, especially in front of Jack. She says she doesn't want her son to grow up to be like you: an angry, sarcastic, borderline alcoholic.'

She only realised what she had just said when it was too late. Perry stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around to face her, his face an unreadable mask.

'Yeah. I don't want him to either.' He said nothing more after that, and instead walked in the direction of the stores entrance.

Even when she had technically won the argument, she still felt like she had lost.

Why can't I learn to keep my mouth shut when I'm angry? Frick.