so here's a nice little oneshot to brighten up your weekend, which, if your life is like mine, could definitely use some brightening.

hmmm... glasses, tan skin, hips and a small waist, a frame that could drop a couple of pounds, brown hair, and eyes that are ringed with yesterday's eyeliner. if this is what shonda looks like, then yes, i am shonda and i own grey's.

It's been a year since Addison left Seattle and the hospital. A year that she's spent in LA, trying to piece her life back together. And if she's perfectly honest, a year that she's spent running from the memories of everything that she experienced in Seattle. That's twelve months of carefully editing information that she's compelled to reveal. Twelve months of pretending that there wasn't a specific reason for her leaving. A year of telling herself that she's not over Alex Karev, because there was never anything to get over in the first place. On those rare occasions when she stops telling herself stories about her departure and her feelings for her intern, then she'll concede that there might have been just a tiny thing to get over, but she's completely over it now. Too bad that's a lie too. She just hasn't admitted it to herself yet.

She's gotten so good at running, she's forgotten that she's doing it. By the time a year has run its course, she's become convinced that there really was a myriad of reasons she left, and that Alex Karev was only the breaking point, not a major factor.

By now, she's used to the slow pace of the Wellness Center. If she's good at telling herself stories, she's absolutely brilliant at finding things to do between appointments that won't make her tell them. Most of them involve a certain alternative medicine specialist who tends to annoy her more than anything. That's his appeal; when she's around him, she tends to get so frustrated with his smartass retorts that she forgets about everything else. Plus, he's hot, which certainly never hurt anyone. She's convinced herself that what she feels for him is actually more than she does. At first it made her feel guilty, but she's always been persuasive, and she's persuaded herself that her stories are true. That's why when he breaks it off with her, it hurts so much.

The night he breaks up with her, she sits at home and finally allows the memories that she's been keeping back to wash over her. After all, she was trying to make herself better for Pete, and apparently that was all for nothing. All of that running away, not facing her problems, acting un-Addison-like, it was all for just about nothing. And that sucks. So she resolves to actually try and look her problems in the eyes, although only metaphorically.

The first thing she acknowledges is that Alex Karev played more than a minor part in her departure from Seattle. In fact, he probably was fifty percent of the reason, Mark being thirty percent and Derek being twenty. And the truth is that she's not over what he did to her. It's difficult to remember everything between them without tearing up. How could something that had felt so right at the time go oh so very wrong? No matter what she tells herself, she still has feelings for him once she digs past all the stories and facades. But that doesn't matter now. He's probably with Ava, or Rebecca, or whatever, now. And if not, then he's probably with Izzie Stevens. Either way, he probably hasn't given her a second thought.

0ooo0

He tries telling himself that the reason he's finishing up his residency in L.A. has nothing to do with his old boss living there. The problem is that in the lying to himself department, he is nowhere near as good as Addison. After the whole Ava/Rebecca fiasco, he was forced to recognize that while he thought he wanted someone who needed him, because he was so used to it, what he really wanted all along was someone independent. Someone that he may need more than she needs him. And at the top of that list is a certain redhead neonatal surgeon.

It was pure luck that he heard about the opening in LA, he hadn't meant to stalk her down here or anything. It had sort of just happened. With Ava in the psych ward, taken care of and out of the picture, and with Addison gone, the days had looked like an endless cycle of changing bandages and suturing in Plastics. So he had the Chief about the possibility of transferring somewhere else, anywhere else really. He was probably going to go to hell for it, but he used Ava as an excuse, although, aside from distracting him for a good year, she had nothing to do with it. Taking pity on him, the Chief had suggested a few places, the highest profile job being in Los Angeles. It seemed meant to be and who was Alex Karev to argue with fate?

He had been in Southern California for more than a month, settling in, giving himself time to get used to everything. In truth, he was trying to build something for himself, in case he found her and found her moved on and happy. And the longer he's down here, the more he thinks that possibility likely. Which terrifies him, but he didn't come down here to not try. But his fear makes him procrastinate and slowly the weeks slip away.

0ooo0

She's finally grown accustomed to the fact that she isn't over Alex Karev and has become very good at hiding it from everyone else. Although, that isn't particularly difficult, since no one's looking in the first place.

It's awkward with Pete at work, but not nearly as bad as it could be. It would be worse if she could muster up the least bit of dislike. But she can't, he doesn't deserve it. Even if he was the one who broke it off, she was the one who had feelings for someone else. They're trying the tentative friend thing, but it's a little difficult to be friends with someone when you can still picture them naked.

She's sunbathing on the beach when someone trips and kicks sand all over her. "Hey! Watch it!" she exclaims, sitting up to brush the sand off. And then she freezes when she follows the leg of the sand-kicker up to the face. She struggles to keep her mouth from dropping, but it's a losing battle.

"What?" he asks. "Do I have something on my face?" That damn smirk.

She shakes her head, trying to clear it. What are the odds of Alex Karev nearly trampling her on a beach in LA? Slim to none. Obviously, it's not him. "N-nothing," she stutters. "You just… you look like someone I know. Er, knew. I knew him. Not know. I haven't talked to him in over a year. It's complicated. I'm rambling. I'm going to stop now."

He laughs. "Same old Addison."

Her eyes widen behind her sunglasses and her mouth reverts to its open position. And then his words register. "Hey, who're you calling old?"

He laughs again. "Not you, that's for sure. You'd probably kill me."

She smiles. "Damn right. What're you doing here anyways? In LA. With me. I mean, not with me, obviously. On this beach, I mean."

He hesitates, just a second. "I transferred. I'm finishing up my residency here."

"Oh." She's dying to ask why but refrains. Besides, she has a more important question to ask. "How's Ava? Or Rebecca."

"She's fine. In the psych ward. So I guess not great, but she's better."

Addison's heart plummets to the pit of her stomach. Not only is he still with Ava, he basically abandoned her. "Your girlfriend's in the psych ward and you transfer to LA? Nice, Alex, real nice."

He sits in the sand next to her towel. "Not my girlfriend. I broke it off a couple months ago."

Addison frowns. "Why?"

He shrugs. "I got sick of lying to myself and waiting around for the one person I really wanted to come back." He gives her a half smile. "She never did, by the way."

Addison blushes and looks away. She can tell from the way he's looking at her, he's definitely not talking about Izzie Stevens. "Oh?" she manages. Barely. But she manages it. Talking has become surprisingly hard, due to the butterflies who have decided that now would be a great time to practice their gymnastics in her stomach. And these butterflies are going to the Olympics and taking gold, judging by the flips they're doing.

He nods, but doesn't say anything. How is it fair that he doesn't seem nervous at all, while she's flipping out? She knew she had a thing for him, but she didn't think it was this bad.

She trails her fingers in the sand, drawing something mindlessly, allowing her fingers to take control. "You know," she says while she does this. "LA's not such a bad place."

"Yeah, I like it," he replies.

It's her turn to nod. She looks down and sees that her fingers have scribbled a big heart. She quickly wipes it away before he can see. "There's one thing I'm having trouble with," she says.

"What?"

"Why should I trust you? I mean, you do have this history of saying perfect things and then destroying hearts. It's hard, knowing that."

He shrugs. "I don't know. If I were you, I wouldn't trust me. But I'm really hoping you're not like me." She raises an eyebrow, which he sees and automatically keeps going, trying to keep his case alive. "Look, I don't have a reason for you to trust me, other than it's three strikes and you're out, and I've only used up two."

She smiles. "Okay," she nods.

"Okay?"

"You make a rather compelling argument, even with the sports metaphor." She smiles, "Plus, I may have missed you. Just a little." And then she's kissing him, figuring that there's nothing more to say, and even if there is, her lips can do the talking for her.

Maybe, just maybe, all of that running was worth something after all.

soo, like it?

-Juli-