a/n: i know that i always say this when i start another fic, but i really don't need a distraction. this was SUPPOSED to be a oneshot, but it decided that it wanted to be a chapter fic, so it is. it's my first attempt at first person, so some feedback would be adored. the title and the name of the chapters are songs by the fray, because they are the only thing i seem to be able to listen to when i write this.

the story's told from addison's POV and then alex's. it may be told from other people's POVs but i'll let you know if that happens.

ADDEX, because that's the only pairing i can write and it's the only pairing i WANT to write.

disclaimer: not mine, don't sue.

Three months. That was how long me and Alex were together. We were happy too. You want to know the most surprising thing? We didn't end badly. We just stopped being. We ceased to exist. I can't tell you why either, because I don't know. Just one day we were and then the next, bam, we weren't. Doesn't seem right, does it? Doesn't seem like we're capable of an amicable break up. You're thinking that there should have been yelling, or cheating, or that maybe I should have thrown something. But there wasn't. It was totally friendly.

The weirdest part, though? We're still friends. I know, it's strange, right? You're not supposed to be friends with your ex. You're supposed to do one of two things. Option one: hate their guts. Option two: lust after them and be the utterly pathetic person that won't let go. I'm neither. Okay, maybe a little bit of option two, but come on! He's hot! You'd have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to lust after him a little! I would be worried if I didn't lust after him just a tad. Because once upon a time I had him. Seems stupid to have let him go. But I don't regret it. Just because I don't go on any dates doesn't mean that I regret it. Just because I occasionally still think back to us doesn't mean that I'm the pathetic ex that won't let go. Because I'm not… I'm not!

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Three months. Twelve weeks. That was how long I managed to hang on to the ex-She-Shepherd. Three months of actual happiness. Happiness, I had forgotten what that felt like. I won't ever again. Because I know that I will always remember those three months. And it's not like we hate each other now anyways. We're friends. She's my boss, I'm her student. But we're friends. I'm really proud of that fact. I didn't completely let her go. We still talk. I still bring her coffee. She still yells at me when I screw up. I still feel like punching Sloane any time he goes anywhere near her. But I'm not a jealous, stalker ex or anything. It's just that she's my friend and I don't want to see her hurt. Because who wants to see their friend hurt? So what that any time Sloane screws with her I mess up his coffee or something, even though I'm not an intern and he can't really order me to get his coffee anymore? So what if every time I see her I kind of lose my breath? She's hot. Anyone with eyes can see that. It's not like it's abnormal for me to check her out or anything. And so what that any time she's had a rough day we'll go to Joe's and I'll buy her a drink? It's not like it's a date or anything. It's just me comforting my friend. Because we are friends. I always feel the need to stress that fact. We are friends.

This is the first time I've ever really been friends with an ex. Well, Izzie, but I don't count her since we never really were, so she can't really be my ex. I screwed up before we got the chance. And I'm sorry that I hurt her. But when I think about it, I don't think that we'd have worked out anyways and then we wouldn't be friends, because our break up would have been far messier than me and Addison's. Not that I'm glad I slept with Olivia, because I'm not. And I'm not glad that Denny came along and took Izzie away from me. But I'm glad that we have the chance to be friends. Anyways, back to what I was saying before. Where was I? Right, being friends with an ex. It's strange and I'm terrified of screwing up. Because the last thing I want in the world is to not be friends with Addison anymore. Because we're good as friends. We work well. And I'm probably closer to her than I am to any other person in Seattle. And I would hate to be enemies with someone who knew all the secrets that she does. Because that would be very bad. So I do everything in my power to stay on her good side, because if there's anywhere you don't want to be, it's Addison Forbes Montgomery's shit list.

Izzie thinks I'm crazy. She thinks that it's impossible for me to be friends with Addison. But I'll show her. Because I can be friends with her. I can.

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I'm sitting at the nurse's station when Alex passes by. We make eye contact and I smile a little and he smiles back, which makes my smile just a little wider. I watch him go and yes, I admit it, I kind of, sort of check him out. Because, as we've established, he's hot and I'm a functioning female.

"So you remember that speech I gave you a while back about the lines of deliciousness? The one with the cartoon bear and the table that turns into a big juicy steak? I feel like I should give it to you again." I whirl around and sure enough, it's Callie.

"I was not looking at him like that," I protest, but I know that it's a weak argument, since I'm totally and completely lying.

"Liar. That was the hottest eyesex I've ever seen. Except for possibly before you two hooked up. That was seriously hot. I wanted to cringe and then go bang my husband every time."

"Callie!" I really shouldn't be shocked by her statements anymore. I should be used to her by now. But I'm not.

"What? I'm just saying…" She trails off suggestively, but what she's suggesting, I have no clue.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"You are a hopeless case, Addison Montgomery. I'm not even going to try to help you."

And then she walks away and I have no idea what she was talking about, but now I really want to know.

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Izzie and I are sitting in the tunnels because we have some downtime. It's been awhile since I've last been down here because when you're a resident you don't get a lot of free time. Not that you get a lot of free time as an intern, either. But whatever. Somehow Izzie and I managed to make it down here without a page or an intern bugging us.

It's been awhile since I've talked with her, but we just talk like we always do. Bailey's interns have to stick together. We talk about our residency and Izzie complains about something or other, I don't really pay attention. It can't be all that important or she wouldn't be talking to me about it. She'd be talking to Meredith or something.

Izzie chose cardiothoracics as her specialty. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, what with Denny and all. I am though. I guess I always had her pegged as a neonatal sort of gal. Oh well. Christina's in cardiothoracics too, but we always knew that would happen. And Meredith is a general surgeon. Couldn't make up her mind. That's how I see general surgeons, indecisive. But then again, Dr. Bailey is far from indecisive. So I guess that theory's out the window. I've got to admit, I'm proud of her for not choosing neuro because of Shepherd. Poor Georgie has to repeat his internship. Sucks for him. But he's doing it, and he's doing it here, which I have to give him props for. And me? Well, guess what? I didn't choose plastics. Shocker, I know, after working, I would say with, but that's not the case, after working for Sloane and with Addison. Here's the real shocker. Neonatal. That's my specialty. Gasp, I know. Don't have a heart attack or anything. People think I chose it because of Addison, but that's not the case. Well, she might have had some sway on my decision at the time, since we were dating then, but I couldn't love what I do more. The fact that I get to work with her? Just an added bonus, but not a major factor. I can see that Addison feels guilty, that she had an affect on such a life altering decision. But I just, like, connect with the pregnant chicks. Is that a bad thing, that I'm connecting with pregnant girls, most of whom have husbands?

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I'm having a sucky day. Mark's being particularly annoying and Derek's in an extremely mean mood. Things not going well with his twelve year old? God, I shouldn't talk. I had my own intern there for awhile. And besides, Meredith Grey isn't that bad. I can see how he'd like the whole damsel in distress thing. That was the one thing I never was. I refuse to be needy, because that means I'm dependent on someone, which I'm not. Ever. Addison Forbes Montgomery is never, ever dependent. And no matter how much Meredith professes not to need saving, she does. I can see how Derek could have fallen for her. She's got that whole skinny as a stick, wide eyed ingénue thing working for her. I don't think she's as pretty as Izzie, who has that whole blond hair and boobs model thing going for her, or, you know, me, but I can get how he could fall in love with her. God, sometimes that hurts to think about. I am not going to cry just because I'm thinking about my ex-husband being in love with Meredith Grey. I'm not. Crap, I am.

I run to a supply closet and sit down on an overturned bucket and I start sobbing. I hate to cry. I hate being vulnerable. And yet here I am, sobbing in a supply closet over a stupid thought. I must be having a crappier day then I realized.

The door opens and I look up. Alex is standing there. He doesn't say anything, he just pulls me up and into a hug and I just sob into his shoulder. I'm probably completely ruining his scrub top with my tears and stupid non-waterproof mascara, but all I can think about is how good it feels to be in his arms again. No! Bad thought, Addison. I can't think like that or I'm going to go crazy. We are friends. Nothing more. And I'm okay with that. But I still can't help thinking of him as my knight in shining… whatever. Yes, I am well aware of the fact that Meredith and Derek coined this phrase, but it spread through the hospital and it seems to fit. Except that makes me seem dependent on him. Which I'm not. It's really kind of sad how I seem to need to assure myself of this.

We stay like that for, I don't know, it could have been anything from a minute to an hour. However long it was, it felt too short. I pull back and here's where we always have issues. This is gonna be awkward.

"Thanks, I, um, needed that," I say, wiping at my face because I am sure my mascara's running. It's not going to help. I really should start carrying tissues with me. I've been crying far too often lately to not carry them around. And then from his lab coat, like a miracle, Alex pulls out a packet of Kleenex. Why he's carrying around Kleenex I don't know, but I am so thankful he does right now.

"No problem," he responds with a smile as he hands me the tissues. I wipe furiously under my eyes, trying desperately to get rid of the telltale mascara tracks without a mirror. "Hold on," he says, taking a Kleenex and wiping my face far more gently than I am. "You missed a spot. Hang on a second. Perfect," he proclaims and looks down at the tissue then at my face. His hand reaches out and a finger swipes directly underneath my eye. "Eyelash," he explains, holding the finger out near my mouth. "Make a wish."

I know what I want to wish, but it would be pathetic ex behavior. So I wish that he'll ask to take me out for a drink instead of what I want to wish, which is for him to kiss me. And sure enough, as I blow gently at the eyelash he asks me to go for "a drink, maybe dinner". Hey, wishes do come true. I'm going to pretend that I didn't just say that.

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I wasn't watching her. Not exactly anyways. I was simply near her when I saw her run into that supply closet. We work together, it's nearly inevitable that I would be there. So I ran after her, because she's my friend and she looked like she needed me. And then I hugged her because she needed it. The fact that all I could think about was how right it felt to hold her again and how much I missed it, completely irrelevant.

I always carry the Kleenex with me because, hello, I work with pregnant chicks. Their hormones are completely out of whack. I never know when one of them is going to start crying. After being rendered helpless the first couple times, I started carrying around a package of Kleenex so that I'd at least have something to do while they cried their eyes out. I've never been gladder that I carry it around than I am now.

And I do the eyelash thing because I know that it's the kind of thing she likes, the kind of thing that comforts her. I don't know why she's crying, but I do know that I want her to stop. I want nothing more than I want her to smile. Because her face kind of lights up when she smiles. Her eyes crinkle around the edges, and I know that because of that gorgeous smile she'll eventually get crow's feet there, but for now it doesn't matter. Her eyes get this gleam and she looks kind of like a ten year old who's been told that she's going to Disneyland. Well, at least if the smile is genuine. If it's a fake smile, a smile that she gives all the time, then it won't reach her eyes at all and her mouth will stay pressed shut. That's how I always know if she's grinning or faking. If she's grinning, her smile will start small but get bigger and bigger until eventually she has to show teeth. A fake smile and her lips stay shut tight and if you look at her eyes, it almost looks as if it hurts her to smile. I'm allowed to know these things because I was her boyfriend for three months. You notice that kind of stuff in three months. And because I'm her friend, I haven't forgotten it.

I ask her to go get a drink after work because it's what we do when she's had a crappy day. When I've had a crappy day she'll come sit with me at lunch and listen sympathetically. It's nice because I get away from my other friends. I mean, Izzie and Meredith are fine, I like them, but Christina is nosy and robotic and I'm not really positive that she's a functioning human being. And George is, well, Bambi. He's timid and it bugs the hell out of me. He needs to man up. How he landed a chick like Torres I will never know.

She smiles and accepts and then she takes a deep breath. I pull her into another hug, not because I want to hold her again, I swear, but because she looks like she needs it. She's wearing heels but not tall ones so for once in my life I'm taller than her. I kiss her the top of her head, because I would do the same for Izzie. I think. It never comes up with Izzie. Izzie doesn't let me see her vulnerable anymore. I'm surprised that Addison does. I guess that's what happens when you're alone. I hate the thought of her alone. I wish she would go on a date so that I don't have to feel bad about being the last person she dated.

She leans into me and we stay like that for a minute. She must realize how guilty we'd look if someone walked in right now and she pulls back, hesitantly, it seems to me, but that's just wishful thinking, at least I think. Then she smiles at me, a real smile that catches my breath in my throat just a little, and she walks out of the closet, back to her composed, perfect persona. I wait a few minutes and then I follow her and we're back to being student and teacher and I find myself kind of wishing that we were back in the supply closet.

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I'm in a much better mood after the supply closet. The thought of drinks with Alex always puts me in a good mood. I'm back at the nurse's station and I'm smiling that stupid moronic grin I have on whenever I talk to him when I hear someone come up behind me. I turn and it's Callie. Big surprise there. She takes one look at my face and says, "Someone got some."

I glare at her over the top of my glasses. "Contrary to what you might think, my moods do not revolve around sex, unlike some people I could mention," I reply. They may revolve around a certain intern-turned-resident, but they most certainly do not revolve around sex. And we're going to pretend I just didn't say that, because that would be a very bad thing for me to say about my ex.

"Okay, so what made you so happy then?" Callie challenges me.

And now I have to figure out what I'm going to tell her, because I can't tell her that Alex asked me out for drinks and now I can't stop smiling. Because she would take it the wrong way. She would take it as me still having feelings for the guy. Which I don't.

So I lie. "I just got a call from my friend in L.A."

She looks at me suspiciously. I've never been the greatest liar. But I manage to keep a straight face and she seems to believe me. "Anyone I know or care about?" she asks eventually.

"Nope. Well, Naomi, but you don't really know or care about her," I reply. And I've officially gotten away with it. Thank God.

"Liar." Shit. "But whatever, you're not going to tell me. I'll find out eventually, you know that right? You might as well save yourself the pain of me finding out from one of my sources."

"You have spies?"

"Sources, not spies. And besides, how else am I supposed to stay ahead of the hospital gossip?"

Honestly, she kind of scares me. I tell her this. "Honestly, you kind of scare me."

"Good to know my efforts aren't in vain," she replies. My pager goes off. I check it quickly. Oh thank God for Mrs. Tjeder (this is pronounced like cheddar and it's a nod to my old history teacher whose wife just had their first kid. Yay!). I smile apologetically and run. "I'm going to find out!" she yells after me.

"Wouldn't expect anything less!" I yell back over my shoulder. And then I'm off to Mrs. Tjeder's room to save her and her kid's life with Alex.

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I will never understand how Addison does it. One minute she's sobbing in a supply closet, the next she's all commanding presence and professionalism. It's really kind of disturbing how she can slip into two completely separate roles in less than a minute. I learned that when we were dating. One minute she was Addison and we were cuddling or drinking coffee together or something and the next her pager was going off and she was Dr. Montgomery, the height of professionalism, and slightly embarrassed that she was dating someone below her. That should make me mad, it really should. But it doesn't.

reviews would be greatly appreciated and i will love you forever! plus i really want to know if i should keep going. should i? please tell me i should, because i'm really enjoying writing this.

lauren