I know I should be writing my stories. I know it. But I'm not. I sat down to brainstorm a chapter of YCSBMWTWCD and this is what my over-caffeinated brain gave me. But even though it distracted me from my stories, I do hope you enjoy it, because I had fun writing it!

Disclaimer: I know we all wish I owned Grey's. Sadly, I don't.

Addison stares at him in shock, his words echoing hollowly through her ears. You're not my girlfriend. In approximately five seconds, those four words have repeated in her head about a hundred times. She wants to scream or cry— anything that might give her a little relief from the hideous wrenching pain she feels cutting through her.

He had gotten her hopes up once again. One would think that she would have learned by now, but one would be wrong. She had been taken in by his easy smile, his sweet words, as if he hadn't already attempted to destroy her heart before. She had kissed him. She had kissed him and he had yelled at her. And then he had managed to worm his way back into her good graces as if nothing had ever happened. He had messed with coffee and comforted her in moments of doubt. He had made her think that maybe she might be something more than his boss. So she had slept with him. The decision itself was impulsive, but she had been thinking about the possibility for a couple of weeks now. It had meant something to her—she didn't do sex without feelings, and she had never gotten people who could. But apparently he was one of those who could.

How could he just use her like that? Could he really just use her and then throw her away like a used paper towel? The thought makes her want to cry—Addison Forbes Montgomery is no paper towel, at least she hadn't been until now, apparently.

She wants to get up and leave. She wants to drive to some new bar and get drunk. She wants to pick up some new man and see just what this whole sex without meaning thing is all about. She wants to do all these things. Instead, she just sits there in shock, making the whole thing even more awkward.

"Okay then," Alex says awkwardly, slowly getting up. And then Addison gets mad. No, she becomes furious. She won't let him treat her like this; she wouldn't let anyone else treat her this poorly, so why should he be an exception?

"No," she snaps.

"What?" he asks.

"No," she repeats. He gives her a look, somewhere between thankful and remorseful, but she doesn't stop to question it. She doesn't stop to think about anything—she's mad now, and nothing's going to stop her from letting him know this fact. He goes to move around her, but she barks, "Sit your ass down, Karev. I'm not finished!"

Surprisingly, he obeys, looking more and more regretful, and more than a little shocked that she's finally standing up to him.

"You don't get to do this. You don't get to use me and then discard me. I am not your whore. I'm some easy slut you can bang in a supply closet any time you feel like it. I'm a woman and I deserve respect. I don't give a rat's ass if you care for me—I can find someone else just as easily—but if you don't care for me, then you will respect me," she orders, her eyes blazing with anger, and hatred, and, yes, a small amount of passion. "You don't get to tell me that I'm not your girlfriend. I wasn't asking to be your girlfriend. I have no delusions of that. But now I am asking for an apology and you are going to give me one."

For a full minute, there is silence. Actually, that's not true, there is the background noise of a busy hospital, but neither of them notices it. In their bubble there is only Addison's heavy breathing and Alex's downcast eyes. "I'm waiting, Karev," Addison reminds him.

He looks up, sincerity evident in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he apologizes.

Addison nods stiffly. Now that her rage is starting to wear off, she's becoming aware of the scene she just caused. "Thank you," she says curtly before turning to walk away.

This time, it's his turn to stop her. "Addison," he calls her name. She turns. "I wasn't finished." She waits in silence, lifting her eyebrow in anticipation. "I shouldn't have treated like I have. I shouldn't have done what I did, and I shouldn't have said what I said. I just…"

He trails off, and Addison hastens to fill the gap. "I know," she says, wanting nothing more than for this conversation to be over.

He shakes his head. "No. You don't. You don't know what it's like for me."

"What?"

He takes a deep breath. "I don't do this. At all. I don't know how to… how to talk about feelings or whatever." He says feelings like an arachnaphobic might say spider. This time Addison doesn't step in to help him. He dug himself into this mess, now he can dig himself out. "But I like you."

"Alex," she whispers. "Two minutes ago—literally, two minutes—you were telling me I'm not your girlfriend."

"That's because you're not," he says. She turns her head away. In case you were wondering, it doesn't hurt any less the second time around. "I don't do girlfriends, Addison. I screw up with girlfriends, and then no one's happy."

She nods slowly. "Okay." Once again, she turns to walk away, but at least she understands him a little better this time.

"Addison," he says her name again. Addison shivers at the amount of feeling in one word. "Maybe…" He trails off and she whips back around, holding her breath as she waits for his next words. "Maybe we try this thing. Just you and me. No labels."

She stares at him, trying to figure out if he's just trying to use her again. She sees nothing but sincerity and hope in his eyes. "Yeah. Okay," she agrees. He nods. They stare at each other in silence. "So," she says to break the quiet. "You sure you don't want to see my cards? I'm a great teacher."

He grins. "You know, Dr. Montgomery, I think that might actually be a good idea."

She smiles back. "Okay then. Follow me." She beckons and leads him out to the parking lot. Okay, so maybe it's not the smartest idea to invite him back to her hotel room when just ten minutes ago she was certain that he had used her. And maybe it's not the smartest idea to let him get away with the no labels idea, but if that's where he's comfortable, she's fine with it. Right now, he's a man and she's a woman, and that's really all the labels she needs.

So I hope you liked it, and I hope that you'll tell me you liked it! Or didn't like it- that works too.

-Juli-