Okay, so a little back story is necessary here, I feel.
This story is a sequel to a previous story I wrote, "A Rush of Blood to the Head."
You can find that in my profile.
My idea here is, I'm writing in a very unrealistic arena in which Derek and Addison had a daughter, Sadie, very early in their marriage, and none of the messiness with Mark ever happened, so they're still in New York, for better and worse.
Everything is the same for the rest of the cast in Seattle, with a few minor differences, mostly to make up for the absence of the Drs. McDreamy.
I'd recommend reading "A Rush of Blood to the Head" if you really want a solid background, but I'll try to make this as independent as I can.
As for a ship, well, "A Rush of Blood to the Head" was Addek, definitely, and I figure this one will be too. Haven't decided what other ones I would like to incorporate, yet.
So that's it. Read, enjoy, and review. Thanks!
"Look After You"
by Bleu
"Dr. Bailey!"
I just…
"Dr. Bailey!"
…need…
"Dr. Bailey!"
…a…
"Dr. Bailey, are you in there?"
…minute.
The on-call room door banged open, nearly smashing Isobel Stevens in the face. She stumbled back a step as the very tired, very frazzled, and very unhappy Miranda Bailey faced her in the doorway, her eyes cloudy as she struggled to bring herself back completely from her brief dip in slumber.
"Sorry," she murmured offhandedly, rubbing her eyes quickly. "What is it, Izzie?"
Not noticing the resident's exhaustion, Izzie hurriedly flipped through the weighty medical chart in her hands, taking less than a second between pages to tap her finger on her tongue to hasten the action. Her smile was irrepressible.
"Two things, really," She began excitedly, but instead of awakening the usual surge of adrenaline that accompanied the potentiality of a cool surgery, all the intern's enthusiasm did was remind Miranda just how drained she was, and how hard it was becoming to keep her eyes open.
"…first, the Hanson case, the heart transplant that Dr. Burke scheduled for today, well, he needs an intern and he asked me to scrub in, but only if you said I could because I told him about the Ershler twins—,"
"It's fine, Izzie. Scrub in with Dr. Burke." Miranda informed her with what she hoped was an authoritative nod and gesture with her left hand. Izzie blinked, baffled by the ease at which her boss allowed her from her previously assigned case to such a high profile one. Not inclined to argue and threaten this permission, Izzie smiled and straightened.
"Thank you, Dr. Bailey, for having such faith—,"
"You said two things?" Miranda expelled harshly, leaning against the doorframe.
"Oh, um, yeah…Chief Webber was looking for you before."
With that, Miranda's entire body went rigid.
"When? For what? Where did you tell him I was?" she asked urgently, more out of worry than actual hurry, straightening and smoothing her scrubs unconsciously. Izzie bit her lip and frowned towards the main surgical lobby.
"Uh, I guess it was about ten minutes ago, by the board. I told him you were probably asleep because you had mentioned that your son was teething—,"
Before Izzie could finish the sentiment, Miranda waved an impatient hand and took off.
"Thanks, Stevens!" She snapped over her shoulder. Izzie raised her eyebrows, took a moment, and then shrugged, walking off to her surgery.
Making a mental note to remember to reassign the—wait, what case was it Stevens had just said she was transferring from? Damn. Something with twins.
As Miranda reached the surgical assignment board, she caught the name, scrawled in red dry-erasable marker. Ershler.
Reassign Ershler twins to O'Malley, or Grey. Whoever crossed her path first.
As she turned from the board and scanned the crowd of doctors on the floor, Miranda gnawed on the inside of her lip.
Will had been teething. Last night, the night before, the night before that, almost a week now. She and Tucker hadn't slept more than two of three consecutive hours, since.
But she was still a doctor. A capable, talented doctor. She could do her job.
She was not going soft. She knew that.
Unfortunately, she had been getting a very distinct feeling of late that her male counterparts and superiors did not feel the same way.
But she would show them, prove them wrong, because she knew she was capable
They didn't call her the Nazi for nothing.
Deciding the Chief must be back in his office, Miranda started for the stairs when she literally crashed into George O'Malley as he headed down the stairs, staring intently at his pager.
"Oh, sorry, Dr. Bailey!" he apologized sincerely, even putting a supportive hand on her shoulder to steady her. Still startled and not entirely alert but not wanting him to notice, she batted his hand away.
"Enough touchy-feely, O'Malley. I need you to take a case—,"
Damn it! She forgot the name of the case Stevens had given up, again.
The twins…a male and a female, two weeks old, six weeks premature…redhead for a mother, tall gangly blond father…
"You mean the Ershler twins, that Izzie was working on before she got pulled by Dr. Burke?" George asked dejectedly, obviously envious over the much more prestigious surgery that he had not been assigned. Miranda nodded quickly, as if she had said the words herself.
"Yes. Get on that. Prep the little boy for MRI in neuro, and test the little girl's iron levels again."
"You mean prep the little girl for an MRI and test the little boy's iron levels?" he asked confusedly. She pursed her lips.
"Yes! And after that, check the monitor on the little…boy's heart every half hour. And call neuro and make sure that little girl gets into surgery today!" She barked these orders at him, bounding up the stairs as she did so, not even bothering to look and see if he obeyed, because she knew he would.
She was Miranda Bailey, the Nazi. Talented, capable, tough. People listened to her.
She hoped so.
"Mom?"
I just…
"Mom, where are you?"
…need…
"Mom?"
…a…
"Mom!"
…minute.
As she acknowledged the fast, closely-set footfalls of her ten-year-old daughter on the hardwood floor, approaching the master bathroom where she was currently cloistered, Addison Shepherd hauled herself to her feet, swished some antiseptic-strong mouthwash cruelly across her gums, spit it out into the deep crater of a sink, and opened the door to the bathroom just as her daughter Sadie came to a screeching halt before it.
"Mom! Mrs. MacLeod just called and said ballet is cancelled tonight. That means after school I have nowhere to go." Sadie informed her matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over the starchy white shirt required as part of her school uniform. Addison rubbed the back of her hand across her mouth and sighed.
"How about going over to Kendall's until I'm done?" she offered sleepily. Sadie shook her head, causing the light to shimmy through the long dark hair that fell on her shoulders and curled ever-so-slightly at the ends.
"Kendall is in the Hamptons with her Dad for Thanksgiving break." Sadie returned in respect to her best friend. Addison ran a distracted hand through her hair, and moved past her daughter, who followed close behind.
"Well then you know what that means!" Addison replied, entering her bedroom and nearly tripping over a pair of Chanel sling backs. She cursed lightly, sheepishly eyed her daughter, then picked up the shoes and chucked them so they landed right below the dresser. As she made her way to the wide-mouthed doors of the massive closet, Sadie went to the fallen heels.
"That's no way to treat Chanel. Plus, last time you put your silver Manolo flats with the pointy toes here, Dad stepped on them and cut his foot." She remarked, picking up her mother's shoes adoringly and placing them in a safer place. Addison didn't turn around.
"Your father is clumsy." She muttered, not particularly to anyone. Sadie rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips.
"I don't want to go to Becky's house." She asserted as much as she could, with a touch of whiny as she emphasized the last word. Addison emerged with a black silk skirt and white camisole on as opposed to her previous terry cloth robe, looking a bit more like her professional self. She hoped it would help her feel a bit more like her professional self, too, instead of just a fatigued, nauseaus woman. She slid a pearl stud into either ear after collecting them from the bedside table.
"Sadie, I know you don't want to go to Becky's house. You never want to go to Becky's house, and you never let me forget that. But you're still too young to be home alone!" Addison said exasperatingly as she slid a blue button-up shirt that had been in a drycleaning bag on the closet door over her shoulders. Sadie's face collapsed into a pout.
"Why can't I just come to the hospital? The car could take me right to the front steps! I'll just sit in your office and read or something!" she pleaded.
Addison fumbled with the buttons on her shirt in front of her vanity, and looked at her daughter through the reflection in the three-way mirrors.
"No, Sadie. The hospital is not a place for you, and we only use it when we have no other option."
"We have no other—,"
"Yes we do! You can go to Becky Meyers's house until I finish my surgery, which will be at eight o'clock." Addison replied firmly, arching an eyebrow to warn her daughter against further argument.
A tense moment passed as Sadie pressed her lips together, broken only when Derek Shepherd stumbled into the room.
"Hello, ladies." He mumbled, scrubbing his face with his hands. He gave Sadie a paternal kiss on the forehead and his wife a loving kiss on the cheek en route to the mussed king-sized bed, where he collapsed fully clothed.
"Hi, Dad." Sadie murmured, intermittently pouting and glaring at Addison in unspoken strife. Addison scooped her hair into a clip, ignoring her daughter's accusatory stares.
"How did the craniotomy go?" she asked Derek, now tugging at the shirt, hoping the fact that it was a little tighter than it used to be wouldn't be apparent to anyone but her.
Derek sat up slowly, and began removing his shoes.
"Rocky start, lost him twice on the table, and it was hard getting him back. Eventually cleaned up, and got out about two hours ago. I could only close him three quarters of the way, from all the swelling. I'll have to go back in later tonight." He relayed for his wife, who nodded understandingly. Sadie edged over and sat next to him.
"What time tonight?" she asked innocently, picking at the Egyptian cotton sheets on the bed. Derek removed his watch and paused.
"I don't know, at the very least I need to give him twelve hours."
"That's eight o'clock tonight, right?" Sadie continued, shifting her eyes to Addison, who rolled hers.
"Yeah, about then, why?" he asked, looking between them.
"My ballet was cancelled, and Kendall is in the Hamptons, so Mom is going to make me go to Becky Meyers's house until she finishes her surgery, which is over at eight, but I don't want to, so could you pick me up at school instead and watch me until you have to go in and then Mom can watch me?" Sadie asked hurriedly, her words so rushed they fell quite ungracefully atop each other.
Derek blinked, smiled, and nodded.
"Sure, I will. I'll come get you when school is out." He assured her, kissing her forehead again. Sadie bounced with delight, and Addison sighed.
"Are you sure you can though? What if your craniotomy starts to bleed or the swelling goes down sooner?" she asked, crossing the room in front of them to collect the shoes she had tossed before to slip onto her feet.
"It'll be fine, Addie." Derek assured her easily, as Sadie got up from the bed and bounced happily between them. Addison fit the shoes on her feet, and stood, smoothing her outfit.
"Are you sure, Derek? I definitely won't be out of there before eight." She emphasized, placing her hands on her hips, imploring more seriousness from her husband than he was giving, as he laughed at Sadie, who he had ensnared and was tickling.
"Addie, relax!" he returned, laughing again as Sadie squealed with delight in his arms. "Everything will be fine!"
Addison sighed.
She hoped so.
There we go. The typical foundation-building first chapter. Hope it was enjoyable, even if a little dry? I'm going somewhere with this, I promise. Things should start falling into place in the next chapter. Connections, and whatnot. Stick with me! Thanks so much.
