There's a small garden beside the outside cafeteria concourse at Seattle Grace hospital. Addison likes to drop her things on the stone wall bordering it and perch beside the flowers while she eats her lunch. Occasionally, she'll pick a flower, tuck it into her hair, laugh a little bit, blush and brush it out. Sometimes, she keeps it - other times, she just lets it drop to the ground. Depends on the day, really.
Izzie's running her tongue down Addison's stomach; her hands are moving over the attending's soft white skin and slipping under her panties. They're in the on-call room and they're supposed to be napping, but why is it that when you're horny, all traces of tiredness are chased away? Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, Addie is arching against Izzie's touch and Izzie's tongue is finding its inexorable path to Addison's G-spot.
Addison's hands are tracing over Izzie's shoulders - her fingernails are driving into the resident's soft skin and making long, red curves over the gently defined muscles. They're moving in rhythm, one, two, three, the headboard is starting to tap rhythmically against the hospital wall and Addie can't stand it, so she flails out in ecstasy as Izzie's tongue works its magic and Addison comes violently. As her arm shoots upwards, she knocks her briefcase from the dresser onto the floor in a heap with the white coats, scrubs and shoes that make an erotic collage of colours and fabrics on the tile.
Izzie is startled from her reverie (and dammit, she was so fucking close), and she leans over Addison to pick up the attending's briefcase. As she does so, a red flower falls into her hands.
"Pretty," she says. "Where'd you get this? I didn't take you to be the type to carry around dead flowers." She cups the flower in her hand - it's a rose and the petals are starting to fall off.
Addison laughs a little bit. She takes the flower from Izzie's hand and touches the petals gently, letting them fall onto her chest and onto the bed. "White roses, you know, are for love lost."
"This is a red rose," says Izzie, rolling her eyes. Addison giggles and Izzie flops down on the bed beside her, sighing. Addie lets a few petals fall onto Izzie's chest. "Pink roses are for love budding."
"Hmm . . ." says Izzie, gasping a little as Addison sprinkles a few petals over her stomach and runs her tongue around Izzie's nipples, nipping at one sharply.
"Yellow roses?" Addie half-asks, continuing her way down Izzie's chest. "What about them?" gasps the blonde.
"Love golden," finishes Addie, and touches her tongue to Izzie's clit. Izzie yelps. "It's still red, Addie. What are the red roses?"
"Ahh, the red roses . . . " Addison flicks her tongue and Izzie tangles her hands in the flame-coloured hair, pushing as Addison works harder and harder until Izzie comes spectacularly, to the point where she sees stars in front of her eyes. She doesn't realize it, but she screamed a little, there.
Addison comes up, rests her head on Izzie's chest, hears her lover's heartbeat slow down. "Red roses . . . are love triumphant."
Izzie smiles, lazily, sleepily, and utterly happily. "Love triumphant. Yeah, red roses are the best."