Disclaimer: You may sue me if you wish, but it isn't worth the legal fees. I own nothing, particularly anything related to Grey's Anatomy.
A/N: Another post-finale, Burke/Addison ficlet. More of a frienship with possiblities premise, and not nearly as well-written as the others in this genre already posted. Please let me know if you think I pulled it off, though. This piece was a bit outside of my comfort zone. Thank you for reading!
x x x x x
She knew she would find him there. This jazz club was one of the few downtown bars not frequented by Seattle Grace staff, which had, initially, been the basis of its appeal for her. After running into him here, though, he had guided her into a true appreciation for the music itself, and it had become a tradition of theirs to meet at this place about once a month (when Christina was on-call) as a break from the small world of the hospital.
She spotted him at a dark corner booth, absently stirring his drink. After procuring a martini for herself, she worked her way through the crowd toward him. He didn't even look up as she slid into the booth.
After a moment in empathetic silence, both nursing their drinks, she murmured, "I'm sorry."
He shook his head, not meeting her gaze.
"I really thought she would go through with it."
"She would have." He quietly responded.
"What?" She must have heard him wrong.
"She would have, but she wouldn't have meant it." He met her eyes for the first time. "She would have been doing it for me. To humor me. So I would be happy."
"Preston, I'm so sorry." Addison placed her hand on the table, not quite reaching him. The two of them had an oddly honest friendship, but neither was particularly touchy-feely with non-patients.
"I just couldn't. Not when I would never really know if she wanted to be married to me. I couldn't abide that kind of doubt."
His words hung heavily in the air as the two listened to a soulful alto sax solo.
x x x x x
"Derek told me that the Chief didn't pick him."
Addison's eyebrow lifted. "That doesn't make any sense."
"That's what he said."
"Well, it doesn't add up. If the Board was looking for an outside hire, we would have heard more about it."
"Maybe Richard is staying."
"With Adele recovering from massive surgery, I doubt it."
They lapsed into another ponderous silence.
x x x x x
"I'm leaving Seattle," Addison stated.
"Because you didn't get Chief?"
"Yes and no. I would have stayed if I had gotten chief, but I'm not leaving because I didn't get it," she tried to explain, as her words tumbled over each other in her relief to be discussing her decision. "Am I making sense?"
"I think I understand," he replied. "Where will you go?"
"L.A. When I went down there for vacation, my friends from med school offered me a job in their private practice. It isn't hospital work, but I'll still be far from on the sidelines, and I think I need a change of scenery. At least someplace with some weather variation."
His lips turned slightly upward in response to her shot at the Seattle rain. "It sounds like you've given this a lot of thought."
"I have. I really have," she said. "I just think I need to do it. Give myself a chance to start over. Be someplace where people might actually learn my name before labeling me as 'McDreamy's Satanic, cheating ex-wife.'"
"I know your name, Addison," he stated in his characteristic deliberate manner.
"I know, Preston," she said. "Thank you."
"You know," she continued, "L.A. is a great vacation spot, and Callie turned down my offer of sitting shotgun. The seat is all yours if you want it. I even have a few jazz CDs."
Her teasing tone belied the earnestness of her offer, but Burke recognized the sincerity of the gesture. "I don't think I'm ready for L.A. quite yet," he told her, "but, once you're settled in, I'll have to drop by for a visit, and I'll expect you to take me to the best jazz club in the city."
She smiled. "Deal."
x x x x x
The band was in their last set; this was usually the part of the evening where they would close their tabs and begin the process of returning to their respective, separate lives.
As Addison began to slide out of the booth to track down the waiter, she was surprised to see a hand held out to her. She was surprised because the hand was attached to Preston Burke, who had somehow manifested in front of her without her realizing he had left the booth.
"A dance before you go?" he requested.
"Yes," was all Addison could say as she took his hand.
Despite having met at this club over a dozen times, they had never danced together before tonight. It was one of their (many) unspoken rules governing their non-publicized, uncomplicated friendship.
As Burke held her close and moved them to the slow beat of the music, Addison briefly thought that the no-dancing rule had probably been in place for good reason, before she just enjoyed the sensations of dancing with the man in front of her.
She was wasted on Shepherd, Burke thought to himself. She had excellent rhythm, not entirely unexpected considering her natural grace, but pleasing all the same.
The song seemed to continue forever, but still ended too early. Burke held her coat open for her and led her through the crowd with his hand on the small of her back.
x x x x x
"Thank you for the dance," Burke said while they walked to their cars.
"You're welcome," Addison replied with a flush spreading across her cheeks. She opened her car door, but, before she could climb in, she heard him speak again.
"Addison," she liked the deliberate way he said her name.
"Yes, Preston?"
Even though they rarely discussed her divorce, or Mark's presence in Seattle, just as they had never discussed his tremor, he knew this was the last time he would see her before she left. He would see Dr. Montgomery at the hospital a few times, perhaps, but he would not see Addison again.
"Shepherd, Sloane, Karev," he listed as he walked toward her. "Are all imbeciles and are completely undeserving of even knowing you."
"Christina cannot appreciate what she lost," she answered with a fact of her own.
"Good-bye, Preston," she kissed him lightly on the cheek.
"Good-bye, Addison," he mimicked her action and helped her into her car.
As Addison drove to her hotel, she couldn't help but masochistically appreciate the god's twisted sense of humor that had restored her faith in Seattle men after her irrevocable decision to leave them all behind.