Yes, yes, I know, The Game, but. I finally got to watch the finale (thank you, TiVo), and I am livid with Meredith. So no, I refuse to write an Addison being scarily nice to Meredith chapter right now.
Anyway, this is probably the shortest conversation I wrote, mostly because I also can't write a nice Derek characterization at the moment, either. It operates on the hopefully true assumption that Meredith picks Finn.
Disclaimer: I thankfully do not own Grey's Anatomy, because I'm on a writer-bashing-rampage right now.
"Is Preston okay?"
Derek shook his head. "What?"
"Is Preston okay?" Addison asked again.
"Yeah, yeah he's fine." She looked at him. "Are you fine?"
"Of course I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," she said critically.
"What are you talking about, I'm fine." He tossed his jacket on the floor. She wanted to hang it up, but knew that it drove him insane when she did. It drove her insane when he left things on the floor.
"Okay then. You're fine."
"Beyond fine," he went on. "Perfect, in fact, absolutely smashing, let me tell you, because tonight was the first time I've felt okay in a very long time." She searched his face, but couldn't find any trace of humor.
"Derek, Izzie Stevens cut an LVAD cord to get a heart, her fiancé dies, and then she quits. Meredith Grey shows up with her vet, Preston Burke gets shot, and you're okay?" He frowns, but smiles at her.
"Sure," he said. He got into bed, and they lay on opposite sides. "Night." She opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn't. The paranoid feeling in her chest returned, but she couldn't ask, because it could be nothing, and she would look like a hovering fool. She turned out the light on her side of the bed and turned away from him.
"Night."
Review, fool.
