Kinda from Addisons POV, just strange ramblings from my plotbunny.
"Hey."
The voice of Addison Forbes Montgomery startled Izzie.
"...hi."
Awkward silence.
"Is there something you want, Dr. Montgomery?"
Yeah. You.
"No, I was just saying hi."
"Oh. Ok. Uh, well, I have patients to check on. Pre-op. Post-op. That sort of thing." Izzie turned to leave.
"Wait, Izzie." Addison paused. "Wanna grab some lunch together?"
Izzie stared at her.
"Oh. Uh, I don't...uh...you aren't my..."
"Oh!" Addison laughed, a light, bright sound. "No! Not like that." If only... "I'm trying to get to know my residents. We're co-workers now. Colleagues."
"Uh..."
"Please? C'mon, it'll be a good chance to get to know each other."
Izzie sighed, then smiled a small smile.
"Fine, you've convinced me. See you at the cafeteria at half one?"
A nod from the red-head, a smile from the blond.
Izzie took a chart off the desk and walked towards her next patient's room.
"See you then!" called Addison.
"Caesar salad, eh?"
Izzie [rather ungracefully] sat down in the seat next to Addison.
"Yeah, well. Trying to be healthy and all that. I hate fetta cheese, though. Don't know why they put it in. Ruins a perfectly good salad..."
"I'm not really a cheese fan, either," Izzie said brightly as she started eating her sushi. "Just cheddar. Maybe mozzarella, if it's on pizza. For the stringy...ness."
"I think that parme- Oh, God. We're talking about cheese. The only way this conversation could be any duller would be if we talked about faeces."
Yeah, just because you're a world-class neo-natal surgeon doesn't mean you have to call it by its technical name. Poop is fine.
"Actually, that reminds me of this case I had. This really huge guy-" Izzie broke of into laughter as Addison groaned.
They both smiled.
"So. Isobel. Izzie. Iz."Too far. "...Izzie. Tell me about yourself. If I'm going to get to know you, we need to talk about something other than cheese and excretion."
"Ok, but on one condition. Whatever I tell you about me, you have to tell me about you."
"Deal."
"Good. I grew around Chehalis, in Washington. Me and my mom lived in a trailer park. My mom was so great. She called me "Cricket". Anyway, I worked as a waitress when I was a kid and saved for college, but my mom ended up spending all of the money I made...and the money she made...calling psychics, so I started modeling [hence, Dr. Model, as Alex calls me] and ended up paying most of our bills with that money. This kinda made us a bit...estranged. So, when I turned 18, I left home and never looked back. Sounds corny, I know, but it's true. I went to the University of Washington, and used money from the Bethany Whisper shoot to pay for it."
"Wow. Sounds like it was...uh...unique."
"Well, tell me about your childhood, then. We can compare."
"Yeah, sure. Oh, but...don't you have a daughter? It's just that I heard someone say something last year..."
"I don't talk about that."
End of story, goodbye, the end. Such finality in that sentence.
"Sure. Ok, well, I grew up in Manhattan, and my family were-"
"Loaded?"
"Sh, Izzie, don't interrupt," Addison said in a mock stern voice. "Anyway, yes, they were loaded. They were the sort of parents who were a bit too focused on their careers than their daughter. I had a nanny until I was 15. We had butlers, cooks, maids and three pool boys. One for each pool. Anyway, my parents paid for my med school, at Columbia University Collage of Physicians and Surgeons. I met Derek there....and, well, the rest you kind of already know. Married to Derek for 11 years, had an affair with Mark, Derek left and hooked up with Meredith...so on."
The second awkward silence between the two of them.
"I, uh, I specialise in neo-natal surgery, pediatric surgery, fetal surgery, OB/GYN, maternal-fetal medicine and medical genetics."
Jesus, what a crap line to break the silence. Now she thinks I'm a show-off.
"Well, thats...uh...impressive."
"I completed an OB/GYN residency, then returned to complete a surgical residency and a fellowship in pediatric surgery. Maternal-fetal medicine stems off as a sub-specialty of obstetrics where neo-natal surgery can stem off of pediatric surgery. Fetal surgery is a super sub-specialty of pediatric surgery. I completed a Ph.D in medical genetics, and therefor can also practice as genetist."
"I'm...I've drilled burr holes into a semi-conscious guys head?"
"God, I'm so sorry! That must have been really snobby and pretentious of me. Sorry."
Addison ducked her head sheepishly.
"No, its fine. So, I'm not really sure which specialty I'll pick. I've been told I 'show promise' in OB/GYN, Cardio, and Neurology."
"Oh, go with OB/GYN! It's the best. And, if you had me as your teacher, you'd be studying under one of the finest neo-natal surgeons in the country. I mean, I'm one of the-"
Izzies' pager began beeping wildly.
"Code..." Izzie muttered to herself. "Gotta go! Uh...but...maybe you wanna...get dinner? I had a great time."
Yes! Ah ha ha! This is fantastic!
"Sure. Meet you at Joe's around eight?" Addison looked up at her.
"Yeah. Seeya!" Izzie waved and ran off.
Red satin, to complement her hair. Green eyeshadow, to clash with the hair and dress, and to complement her eyes. Red lipstick, same shade as the dress.
This is what Izzie imagined Addison wearing. It would make her look so beautiful, so incredible, so amazingly elegant. Instead, when Izzie got to Joe's she saw Addison wearing a light blue, low-cut top and jeans.
She still looked amazing.
And Izzie had to admit she wished Addison had meant having lunch as more than friends. Well...she kind of wished. A little bit.
"Izzie!" Addison patted the seat next to her.
"I thought it would be nice to just relax at Joe's, you know? Not have to get all dressed up and fancy. Relax."
"Fair enough. So, what do you want to order?"
"Just a cocktail, for now."
Izzie cocked her head slightly.
"Huh. Ok, I may as well have a beer."
Two hours later, two very slightly completely almost drunk MDs sat at a table in the corner, laughing so much they were almost on the floor. They laughed so much they cried, and the tears seemed to cling to their eyelashes. After a few minutes they stopped.
"Why were we laughing?" Izzie asked breathlessly.
"No idea."
Izzie began laughing again, seemingly at the fact they had been laughing at nothing.
"Hey, Addie," the two of them had become very comfortable around each other after the last 6 drinks, "you know how you said we should come here to relax? Well, I reckon we could relax even more at my house."
"Why, Izzie Stevens are you inviting me back to your house?"
"Yesh."
Addison snorted at Izzies inability to speak, but when she tried to stand up, she promptly fell over.
Izzie laughed at Addison.
"I'm sorry I thought you were hitting on me this morning," Izzie said to her hands after they had stopped laughing.
"Well...I think I might have been...I can't really remember. But I know I like you..."
Izzie looked over at Addison.
"Really?"
"...yes."
"...I like you, too."
They avoided eye contact for a while, both too awkwardly happy to look at each other. Eventually Addison spoke up, sobered by Izzie's confession. "Iz, does the offer of going to your house still stand?"
Izzie looked up at Addison and grinned. "Most definitely, champio surgeon."
"Champio?"
"Yesh."
Addison grinned. "Then let's go, champio intern."
They stood up, drained their drinks, paid Joe and headed towards Izzie's house.
"Just so you know, I live with George and Meredith. And Mer sometimes has Derek over to, uh...to sleep."
"Then we'll have to be super-careful, won't we?"
They grinned at each other before going into the house and sneaking into Izzies' room.
"Well, considering we only properly talked this morning, I'd say this is a good, fast-paced, fun day, wouldn't you?" Addison said as they sat on Izzie's bed.
"Oh, it has. But it's about to get a lot more fun," Izzie whispered and crashed her lips onto Addisons.
Sorry about the ending. Crap to the max. Anyway, please R&R, I'd appreciate some feedback.
KTD.
