yeah, another oneshot. what can i say? they just kind of write themselves. i'm not sure this is exactly great, since i wrote most of it sleep deprived and procrastinating, so yeah...
it's not mine.
Addison could always hold her liquor well. So obviously it always takes more alcohol to get her drunk. Most of the time she is thankful for that, but tonight it frustrates her to no end. All she wants is to get drunk, go home, actually go to the hotel, in a cab, forget about today, and hopefully never, ever, remember it. And right now, she's well on her way to achieving at least part of that goal. Teetering on the razor thin line between tipsy and drunk, she's just sober enough to feel mortified when she realizes the reason for her drinking binge has just sat next to her. So she tries to ignore him and contents herself with staring at everyone through the warped view of her glass. It amuses her for all of five minutes, four minutes and fifty-five seconds longer than it should have. Then she orders another drink and concentrates on that instead of him.
"Hey," he says.
"I," she announces, "am not talking to you. Because talking to you tends to make something in vinsity… vinicity… vitisiny, why is that word so hard? Something in the general area of my heart hurt, so I'm not talking to you."
"You," he replies, "are drunk."
"Not really. Not drunk enough to slap you, which I really should, by the way. Give me five minutes to work on that," she retorts, and gets up, stumbling the minute she tries to take a step. Fortunately he's there to catch her.
"You're drunk," he repeats.
"And you are not my boyfriend so back the hell away from me," she retorts. He looks a little hurt, a fact that she notices and quickly latches on to. "Yeah, doesn't feel so great does it? Almost a little painful, huh? Well, here's a little demo to put things in perspective for you. That little tiny twinge you just felt? Yeah, multiply that by eighty gazillion and you've got a rough estimate of what I felt earlier."
He either feels the pain he inflicted earlier, or does an excellent job of faking it, because his face looks like a mirror of hers earlier. "Addison, I-"
"Oh no, it's not Addison anymore. It's back to Dr. Montgomery for you, buddy. I'm revoking your first name privilege, Karev. Sucks to be you."
He rolls his eyes and starts over. "Dr. Montgomery, I just want to say… I'm sorry."
She frowns and sighs. "I'm listening."
"It's just that… hell, I don't know where to start."
"How about with the beginning. You can start with why you screamed at me in a supply closet," she suggests, sounding surprisingly sober.
"It's complicated."
"I got all night, Karev."
"Look, I just… I didn't want to hurt you."
"Wait, let me get this straight, you didn't want to hurt me so you drag me into a supply closet, scream at me, take just about every little shred of dignity I had left, and basically crush me? Somehow, I'm not seeing the logic here…"
"It's too complicated."
"So simplify it."
"I- I would end up hurting you. And I don't want to. So it's better like this."
"Okay," she says. "Is that why you wouldn't come back to my hotel with me?"
"What?"
"The whole refusing sex thing. I don't get it. Because I mean, you're you, and I'm me, and it just… the whole thing doesn't make a lot of sense. Because you're kind of a manwhore and I was basically granting you an all-access pass. And you said no. I don't get it. I mean, I've been telling myself that you're probably secretly gay, but I don't really think that. And now I'm confused, because you're a manwhore and I'm pretty hot. I mean, that sounds vain, but admit it, I'm hot."
He laughs. "That's why," he answers.
"You said no to sex because I'm hot?" she asks, confused. "What kind of strange, delusional planet do you live on in that head of yours, Karev?"
"It's not just that you're hot," he replies, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone's listening. No one is. "It's that you're smart, and one of the nicest, most genuine people I've ever met, and funny, especially drunk, I should mention, and I… care about you. And that scares me."
"See, now if you had just said that in the first place, I never would have thrown myself at you," she says. "How come you didn't tell me?"
"The only reason I'm telling you now is because I know you probably won't remember a thing tomorrow morning," he confides.
She shrugs. "Okay. But I would just like to go on record and say that I think you're an idiot. Because what you say… you sound a little in love, and it's stupid to pass that up."
"So you're saying I should try to get you to go out with me?" he asks.
She thinks about it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I am. Because I'll tell you, that hurt I was talking about earlier? The one in my heart? That feels a little like love, and it scares me too. So we can be scared together," she finishes with a shrug and a smile.
He laughs. "All right. But I think I'll ask you when you're sober. Because then I know it's not alcohol-induced."
"I can handle my alcohol really well, thank you very much," she replies haughtily.
"Yeah? How do you do with the hangovers? Because you are going to have one hell of one after tonight. Probably time to stop."
"Another excellent idea from the brain of Alex Karev," she smiles. "Hey, Joe!" she calls to the bartender. "I think it's time for me to go home."
Joe walks over. "Do I need to call you a cab?"
"I got her," Alex informs him. Joe shrugs and Alex leads her, rather slowly since she's having difficulty with the straight line concept, out to the parking lot. "Let's get you home," he says as he lets her into his car. She fumbles with the seatbelt, taking two minutes to try and get the thing to lock. Alex finally leans over and does it for her. Another two minutes and she's passed out in the passenger seat. When they arrive at the hotel he searches her bag for a key, finds it, reads the room number and carries her gently to her room. He lays her down on the bed, glances around, puts a couple things on her nightstand, scrawls a note and leaves.
She wakes up in the morning to a pounding headache and a wave of nausea. Then she finds that she can't even remember the night before, past a lot of empty glasses. A little panicky, she opens her eyes to affirm that she's in her own hotel room and not the room of, oh say, Mark Sloan, for example. She's not, but there is a glass of water and a bottle of Advil on her nightstand with a note. Focusing on the note takes immense will power, thanks to her headache, but she manages it. It reads simply, "Thought you might need these. Alex." What the hell was Alex Karev doing in her hotel room while she was very, very drunk?
She asks that exact question of him the next day. He smirks. "You know what? I think I'm going to let you figure that one out on your own," he replies. She groans but says nothing.
The next day he asks, "So you over that hangover yet?" She rolls her eyes and nods. "Ready for another one?"
"No."
"Good, because the plans I have for tomorrow night involve no alcohol, if you're interested."
"Are you inviting me…"
"On a date?" he finishes. "Yeah, I guess I am."
"I'm not your girlfriend, remember?" she says with just a touch of bitterness
"I thought we already went over this… Actually, you were drunk, so I guess I went over it. I'll recap what happened. I care about you, didn't want to hurt you, don't want to hurt you, so I lied and said I wasn't interested. But I got some pretty good advice the other night."
"Give me one reason why I should believe you this time."
"Because this time I'm telling the truth."
"Alex, after… everything…. you can't just come up to me and say these things and expect me to… to… to trust you again! It doesn't work like that!"
"I'm not asking you to trust me again, I'm just asking you to go get something to eat with me. Look, I know that I've hurt you, and treated you like crap, but I want to make that up to you. Please?" he says earnestly.
She looks like she's considering it, then hesitates. "You don't want to get mixed up with me, it's not going to help your career any."
"Who said anything about my career? This isn't about my job, this is about me and you. Come on, Addison," he teases, "everyone's doing it, you know you want to."
The problem is she does want to. She takes a deep breath. "Why not? But you get one chance, Karev, don't screw it up."
so you know the drill by now.
-Juli-