It was just once, Derek swore – when Addison visited after the shootings, and he was weak and depressed, and she made him feel like he used to -before his long recovery.
The only real lie was the last part, since really, she made him feel like SHE used to, before her 'just once' with Mark, which carried on for a month.
Meredith heard the 'just once' story from Owen, too, before Cristina dumped him the second time – or maybe the third, she'd stopped counting by then - and she knew the term was like spandex, stretchy and elastic.
It was just once a week later, too, when Addison returned to Seattle Grace for a consult, and the rich silk bedding at the Archfeld Hotel tickled Derek's scar, and she wasn't even a dirty mistress, since a post-it note, like being close in horse shoes, really doesn't count.
Just once flew in from LA again a month later, when she accepted a temporary work contract at the hospital, to help Richard smooth over the merger.
It was just once four times a week at first, then five, then more then once a day, until she took a job on Park Avenue, and Derek joined a practice in Manhattan, and they returned to the Brownstone she'd never sold - because she never forgot how Derek made her feel, either, and he'd always left out the part about how New York had ferry boats, too, and that's where he fell in love with them, originally.
He left Meredith the Range Rover, though, and the land, because that's what he always offered women when he could no longer offer himself.
They again, that's why Addison still had the Brownstone.
Meredith tried to be more upset then she was, as distraught as Dr. Wyatt thought she should be – though not as much as her mother. She'd never be Ellis, because she'd seen this story before, and she always knew Addison would be back to claim what she thought was hers.
Meredith could even offer to send her a pack of multi-color post-it notes, since every dirty mistress knows that 'just once' is just code for 'until next time.'
It had been just once for Meredith too, after all, the first week Alex was home.
He'd been wounded worse then Derek, been hospitalized longer. But instead of weak and depressed, he was raw and desperate, like her, and that was the only post-op equation that worked, after the 'just once' she never thought she wanted to begin with became just another 'never,' as the blood pooled in her shoes.
Just once came again a week later for her, too, because she sometimes preferred the stand up shower to the claw foot tub, and Derek could never keep his footing in there, and Alex just smirked when she climbed in with him.
It was 'just once' again often for weeks after that, while Derek waffled between women again – as if the real problem wasn't that one would never be enough for him – and she wasn't a dirty mistress this time, because Izzie had left Alex on the curb with the trash.
It was 'just once' once a day tops, though, until Derek left for good. Then just once was whatever Alex's stamina would allow, and whatever his skin could withstand of her nails, and however much he could handle of the tears that washed over him afterward, until he made her shriek or laugh or roll her eyes again, or hauled her back to the shower.
Months of just once follow, as she celebrates being Chief Resident, and he declares for Peads. Years of just once continue, as they build their own house on a hill overlooking the bay, and he becomes an Attending, and she takes over as head of Neurosurgery, and three of the extra bedrooms fill, because sometimes 'just once' runs full term.
A decade and then some pass, and it isn't even going to be 'just once' ever again –more like 'never again'- on a chilly Saturday morning in October, when she wakes too early to the riot of their thundering herd. People lie about hearing the pitter patter of little feet, she's sure, since the feet sound more like stampeding Elephants wired on too much sugar as they charge down the steps, and she sighs as Alex stirs beside her with a tired groan.
It's definitely his tired groan, not the groan she heard the night before as he shuddered beneath her – which is a whole different animal – and 'just once' is still 'never again' until he crawls sleepily out their bed to hunt down his clothes. She still smirks admiringly at the sight, even with the scars, and 'just once' is back to 'maybe once more' until he catches her gaze and tugs her up with a familiar smirk of his own. Then 'maybe once more' becomes 'how much damage can three kids do, really, with cereal and cartoons?" again, while she pulls him to the shower.
'Just once' returns to 'maybe just once' a few weeks later, on a windy November Sunday night, when he drops into bed aching and stiff from building that death trap fort with their twin 11 year old sons, and she's aching and stiff from chasing their 8 year old daughter and the puppy they now have only because the boys have Alex's eyes - and have known how to use them on her since birth - and her daughter has Alex wrapped around her sneaky little finger, and he's already snoring before she finishes rolling her eyes.
It's definitely 'not even once, ever again' the following month, though, because there are bikes to build and hospital Christmas parties to navigate and raging disputes with his demon spawn – Cristina was SO right – about helmets and traffic and speed and jumping ramps. And yes, she does know better - since she's an actual brain surgeon and sees what happens to brains when ambulances scoop them off the sidewalk and rush them to the ER. And sure she's exaggerating, but Alex just smirks and the spaghetti illustration works, and Santa's never visiting this house again, if they don't stop smirking at her -like someone else that she knows- when she demands that they do their math homework.
It's way more then 'just once' again toward the end of that following January, it's more often in general, since it's cold and dark and the nights are longer and it's a world away from the hospital gossip about another merger. Sleep away ski camp for the kids was a great idea, too, and the empty house has five fireplaces and balance is less of an issue when she's sprawled across the thick, plush carpeting in the cozy den and it's 'again and again' until he's snoring softly beside her as she pulls a puffy down blanket around them.
It's 'just once' again for Valentine's Day, though, wedged in between busy work schedules and lunch in the cafeteria and dinner at Joe's, where Cristina swings by with Burke – since they've been back warring for five years and counting, ever since he returned to Seattle – and it's not romance and roses, it's a raucous darts match and tequila and beer and toasts to weddings gone awry and to marriages crashed and burned and to post-it notes recycled, and to how right they all were to avoid rings and vows this time.
March shifts 'just once' into 'never again' territory – as in maybe even separate beds 'never again,' - because she has five rainy days of Spring Break at home with the kids-while Alex operates on children who are drugged into submission, something that almost tempts her – and she curses the school for paroling them.
'Never again' even sounds too soon toward the end of that week, and she reminds him as he walks in the door that she spent 57 hours, 36 minutes, and 42 seconds in labor having his children – they have this number memorized because she mentions it often – and she tells him to call for a pizza in twenty minutes as she shoves a mop in his hand and snaps that she's going to her office at the hospital to get some peace and quiet.
April always brings a yearly threesome – her and him and the tax collector – and 'just once' definitely becomes 'not tonight,' and maybe even 'not this month.' Alex is always even grumpier then usual in April, because he'll always think she's mad that he paid for his sister to go to college, while he's still paying off his own med school loans – though Meredith's never said a word about any of it - and that always shows up on the forms, typed neatly in bright black ink at tax time.
But 'not this month' actually ends by the 6th of April, usually, because Amber's a television weather lady in Iowa now, which - Meredith has it on good authority, is way cooler then being a brain surgeon - and Meredith's proud of her, and she's proud of him, she's proud of both of them, she's proud of a lot of things, really, and 'just once' settles back into their usual routine when he finally stops being so damn stubborn.
It should be 'just once' as usual in May, and it almost is until she overhears an off hand remark from a nurses' aide about an accidental anniversary. She can almost forget the date, and she walks absently past the small stone memorial in the court yard every day without a second thought, and no one mentions it much anymore.
But his familiar scars ripple under her fingers in the shower, and she wonders if Alex forgets, and it's amazing what any 'just once' – a one night stand, a non-descript mole, a gun shot – can set into motion, and she's used to it, the whole idea, and she's over it, the date. But its several times that day, twice in on call rooms even, and she's still coiled tightly around him afterwards, and she tugs him even closer after he drifts off, because even after all this time, that 'just once' might have been all it took to change everything.
'Never, ever again,' like as in separate wings of the house 'never again,' returns in June, because it's getting hot and the kids are out of school and she thought she finally had it covered this year, until the twins get booted from the summer camp that she spent hours researching. Jacob and Kevin swear they did nothing – with the same look they have whenever their sister comes tearing into the house bleeding or crying – and it has to be even worse then she can imagine, since the camp manager gives her a full refund and the staff can't rush quickly enough to pack up her car when she arrives to retrieve them.
Their eviction remains shrouded in mystery, despite her interrogations, and they're mini Evil Spawns – and Cristina just chortles, but Karma will fix her since she's due in five months, and Meredith hopes to hell she has triplets, just to shut her up - and she'll never get the whole story out of them, and they just look at her with Alex's eyes, and it reminds her that 'just once' was all it took to end up with two little Alex clones, and that's probably why all those science fiction movies about cloning are so chilling.
July heats up further, unusually so for Seattle, and now just once is 'never, never, never again,' because the two little criminals and the siren in training and even the dog all beg for a pool – as if Seattle isn't wet enough. She puts her put down firmly, but it splashes right through the surface, and now it's wet towels everywhere and Super Soaker Wars and dripping thundering herds, and it will be 'never again' for him with her - or with any other woman, since she can handle a ten blade – if he ever, ever deliberately upends the blow-up raft she's floating on again – amid one sun streaked giggle, and three identical smirks - as if his swimmers hadn't wreaked enough havoc.
'Just once' was twice, technically, she recalls in August – since one round with his swimmers ended up as twins – but the 'just once' that happened twice was never even supposed to be once, and that was probably Karma, too, for some unspeakable crime.
That's the only explanation, because she has two late surgeries that day and Alex is home with them – however she counts them - and it occurs to her while scrubbing out that brain surgery is easier, and she almost sympathizes with her own mother.
It's still hot when she arrives later that evening, and Jenna's in the pool with her friends, and the boys are hamming an addition onto their fort – a rickety structure that she's still sure will be the death of them – and Alex is fiddling with the grill, and all she can think is to rush into the house before anyone sees her and check their fire and fort insurance.
Just once is 'many, many more times then once' in September, because they all survive another summer, and there were no broken bones this year, and the fort still stands, and the wet towels have dried, but bed times are earlier, now that school has started, and the nights are clear and cool, and she finally sees the merits of the hammock he'd hung the month before, and its bright stars and light breezes, and it would have been 'once more' that night, too, if his heart wasn't beating softly under her ear, as he dozed peacefully.
A full moon looms over the bay, though, and she knows what's coming – pumpkins and plastic spiders and the candy he claims to buy for the kids – as if she'd never met him – and silly costumes, like the Jedi master out-fit that Jenna had conned him into wearing the year before. It was just once, he swore. But 'just once' was infinitely elastic, and Jenna had Jedi powers of her own, and Meredith just smirked as her lips lightly brushed his hair, and she imagined what 'just once' would have him dressed up as this year.