It's the passing moments – it's those tiny snippets, of sound, of scent, of smell and taste, and seeing the colours tumble like a kaleidoscope – it's those moments that she remembers when she's lying awake at night and the stars are almost too faint to see in the deepening black. Maybe she thinks that leaving her was a mistake; maybe she feels like she wasn't strong enough, a better situation came along at the last second; maybe she thinks she grabbed at straws. Either way, it wasn't enough, and even though by rights it should have been, it just wasn't. You can't make excuses for what's not there. You can't make a situation turn around.

She doesn't hate herself anymore, but she occasionally hates the Fate that brought her to this point. There were two forms of paradise and she took the road untravelled by. It happens. It's life, and it's choices. No one put a gun to her head, but nights when the day has been a blur of blood and tears and the night's an unbroken expanse of leaden eyes and itchy skin, she often thinks:

If it hadn't cooled at all – if she had tried to keep the fire going; would she be able to sleep better? Or would she be lying in bed, staring at the wall, wishing for the path she never considered?

Maybe I didn't like to hear
But I still can't believe Speed Racer is dead
So then I thought I'd make some plans
But fire thought she'd really rather be water instead.

Izzie had the blonde hair and brown eyes, even when she was no longer herself or anything that even resembled the self that Addison had come to know. She may have laid in her own waste and cried for hours, and no one had any hope that she'd be okay, in the end. And so it wasn't really a surprise that Addison had started looking for something else to hold on to and someone else to comfort her. The funny thing is, she never needed the comfort. The funny thing is, she was always self-sufficient. No one likes to find their breaking point. No one likes to regard their ripped-away, bare and bleeding inner self.

Callie Torres is a vibrant, voluptuous woman of the sexual type that's hard to ignore. She doesn't try, but she exudes a raw sexuality that's attractive to men and women alike. Women who never considered themselves experimental are attracted to Callie. Men like her take-charge attitude. Addison? Well, Addison liked that she was there at the right time and in the right place.

So the relationship grew while Izzie spun in her confused world and the guilt made it almost better – it was almost more piquant and interesting, knowing that one day, Izzie might wake up and Addison hadn't made good on her promise of for better or for worse, because you don't need a marriage license in your hand to make that promise and Addison had made it when she'd thought that Izzie just might be the person that spending the rest of your life with not seem like a sentence that you can never break free of without a whole lot of hurt and pain. When you've had the hurt and pain, and the broken promises, you're twice as shy next time. Addison never felt like she had to be careful with Izzie. Then again, she never expected that the girl with the soft smile and the elegant hands would end up being the girl in diapers and drool and restraints, because she rips out her own IVs and she throws her food across the room.

And Peggy got a message for me
From Jesus
And I've heard every word that you have said
And I know I have been driven like the snow

Addison could have adapted to that lifestyle – she could have been the martyr, the person who everyone feels for – "She's so brave." But she isn't that person and she wasn't that person, and sometimes it's easier to accept comfort from someone who can take on the problems for awhile, take on the burden.

Callie hates Izzie; she's hated her for awhile, and yeah, it was motivation to take Addison into her arms and kiss away the lines and tears and worry from her face. But it was also because being that brave person, being the martyr, was never something that suited Addison and she's a girl who needs to be loved. It was more that Callie wanted to do something extraordinary for Addison – she wanted Addison to relax and stop worrying about what comes next in the circle of hell that was her life with Izzie.

This is cooling
Faster than I can
This is cooling
Faster than I can

It could have been – it could have worked. But duty's stronger than desire in some people, and in the end, Addison went back to Izzie because it just wasn't fair to the girl. Isn't it funny, how sometimes we sacrifice our own wants for someone else? What motivates it? For Addison, it was the guilt – and the guilt just wasn't bloody enough, but it was more than she had by indulging in another affair.

And then Izzie got better, and became someone who had to rediscover what it meant to be herself. It wasn't like it could remain oblivious – it wasn't like Addison could hide behind the curtain of ignorance.

"I can't believe you would have waited all this time."

And she'd bowed her head. "Well, what else could I have done?"

What else, indeed?

They went on – Izzie relearned to walk and to eat and to take control of her own body. But something was subtly changed; something just wasn't there. Because passion, untended, cools. And there was a definite cooling trend.

But Addison didn't want to let it go. It just would have been too much – too much to not at least try.

But do I hate what she is
But do I want to be her
And don't we love something fresh
Anything new, virgin

As the winter turned into spring – as the blossoms came out and Izzie went back to work, it almost seemed like it could work. Addison forgot what she had when she saw Callie with Mark and she threw herself into rekindling the relationship. And it turned almost into resentment; the forced smiles and the false affection, like a charade of trying to pretend she was okay when she wasn't even sure what the definition of okay was. But it got easier, day by day, even though the self that Addison was slipped further way with the self that Izzie was becoming.

It broke one night; they were making love. "I missed this," Izzie had breathed, stroking her hands over Addison's breasts and raising a trail of goosebumps on the ivory skin. Addison had lipped Izzie's mouth and ran kisses down her neck, bucking her body, trying to feel the heat she'd been able to feel.

The climax rose, but it was the warmth of effort – she tried so hard to generate the heat that the flooding was more to soothe the friction on her clitoris and soothe the scratching of Izzie's fingers and her tongue. And for the first time, she had to fake it – she faked the orgasm and the sounds that rose in her throat almost choked her. It was a good act, but it wasn't enough.

They lay curled on their sides; the breathing quietening, and Izzie whispered, "I'm sorry."

Addison's tears slipped into the fabric of her pillow as she clutched the blankets to her chest. "I'm sorry, too."

She moved out two days later.


Woman you got too many brambles
Hiding under these bushes
Woman you got too many brambles
But I always liked a good storm
I'm always good for a storm

The days at the hospital were interminable – she ignored the goodwill from helping a patient; she ignored her own grief and threw herself into surgery because wielding the knife stops your own pain. She worked overtime and forgot to eat and fainted in the locker room, having to be revived by George O'Malley, who had heard something of what had happened but passed no judgement, thank God.

It wasn't until she realized that working it off wasn't going to bandage the soreness that she finally took the time out to cry. It just happened that when she slumped against one of the chairs in her office that Callie chose that time to walk in.

Addison had thrown her head up, much like a startled deer, and her blue eyes had widened. "Callie, I can't."

"I'm not asking you to try." Callie's warm brown eyes, her soft smile – it all was like rediscovering the meaning of beauty and Addison realized that she'd likely lost her chance with this woman and with Izzie; that like everything else in her life, her feelings had gotten in the way because she'd refused to ever be anything but absolutely fucking honest.

Callie stepped forward and put her arms around Addison, much as a friend will hold their nearest and dearest friend close to comfort. Addison had sobbed against the rough white coat and then found her slightly raw cheek brushing against Callie's hand as the other woman guided her to her own lips.

Can a kiss be like an oasis?

It had been soft and sweet; it had been warm and gentle and then escalating up to something passionate, where nails dug into skin and hands moved desperately over curves, and when they broke apart tasting of tears and lipstick and unidentifiable sweetness, it left a deep, deep sense of warmth and relaxation.

Addison decided that the answer to that was yes.

So then love walked up to like
And said I know that you don't like me much
Let's go for a ride
This ocean is wrapped around that pineapple tree

They took it slowly – the sex was slow and the relationship never pushed, even though Callie sometimes got a little overeager when Addison wasn't ready. And it settled into this warm sort of co-dependence, where if one had a bad day the other was there with peppermint tea and chocolate cookies, or if one needed to cry, the other's shoulder was always there. The sex remained, if not without passion, then at least with the love that Addison had missed from a long-term relationship.

She pushed against it – she railed against it, she ignored the blonde hair glinting under the corridor lights and the capable hands next to hers in surgery.

But like anything else, the relationship subtly cooled in favour of what might have been.

And is your place in heaven
Worth giving up these kisses
These, these kisses

It's never enough for Addison Montgomery, and she's come to a conclusion. It's not the fault of any lover she has. It's not the fault of relationships going sour from lack of attention or lack of passion or lack of an elusive facet that seems to work for everyone else.

It's because it's the road less travelled by is always more attractive than a road that's well-travelled and reliable.

This is cooling
Faster than I can
Hey yes, faster than I can
Hey, this is cooling

How do you generate the heat when the fire inevitably goes out? How do you stop expecting it to happen?

How do you keep it from cooling?


This is cooling.