Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or anything remotely attached to this show, only the basis of this story.
CHAPTER ONE
OH, BOY.
For a woman of her age, moderately young, and her job, stressful, April Kepner sure had managed to maintain a good health regimen, the only trace of her overwork being the frown lines spread out across her forehead.
She runs the tip of her index finger over the creases, shifting her eyebrows up and down to watch her face change.
Maybe she should work less, maybe she should take a break every once in a while.
Lexie always says how she'd overworked, her constant need to handle anything and everything the reason she's so wound up all the time.
Going out w/ Mer 2nite, u wanna come too?
She reads her friend's text aloud, rolling her eyes at the use of common slang. How hard is it too type properly?
Oh, she bites her lip, getting it now. Perhaps she is a little bit tense and touchy and antsy.
But her job requires her to be as close to perfect as she could possibly get, the need for everything to be spot-on eating at her insides every damn day.
If the flower arrangements are only one petal away from perfection, the florist is fired. If the catering isn't on point, the chef is a goner.
April Kepner is a wedding planner.
She likes weddings. She likes flowers, with colour and vigour. She likes romantic music to sway to. She likes grooms with pristine suits and brides with jaw-dropping gowns. She likes the idea of marriage, but fate has never worked in her favour.
Always the bride's bitch, never the actual bride.
But it's not like she'd never had the opportunity.
A couple of years ago, she'd come close to walking down the aisle with a fiancé of her very own. They were both from Christian backgrounds, but he'd somehow convinced that they should have pre-marital sex before their nuptials.
She'd given in, agreed, surrendered her treasured virginity to a man who swore he'd marry her, love her.
But, so he said, things weren't the same after that, and he'd claimed that maybe they "weren't so compatible after all".
Matthew Taylor deserved to rot in hell.
Since then, she'd only had a handful of dates, usually with half-handsome nobodies she'd meet at weddings. But there was no sex, no romance, no chemistry.
Her faith had slightly altered itself with her heartbreak. She figured that pre-marital sex couldn't be so bad to engage in now anyway. She was already virtue-free, what would it matter?
But even offers for a night of casual sex were limited, and nobody clocked her fancy.
Maybe she was doomed to be unloved, forever envious of glowing brides on the happiest days of their lives.
Sure.
She types back a quick reply to Lexie, sliding her phone back down on her desk after a moment. "Might as well." April breathes out, pulling her long red locks into a loose ponytail and pulling open the cover of her planner.
She checks her schedule for tomorrow, eyeing the circled and highlighted name scrawled across the 11:00AM entry.
Edwards. Montgomery Plaza. 11:15AM.
The redhead nods to herself, picking up her pencil and scribble a few notes with extremely neat penmanship and a Post-It note attached to the top of her page.
Wear sthg cute.
She rolls her eyes at the text, watching as she screen flashes before her.
Like what?
She stands up with her phone in hand, walking around to locate her purse.
Idk.
"Thank you, Lexie. That was so helpful." She groans, slipping her phone into a new clutch purse and sorting out the contents before popping open her wardrobe.
Her work attire usually consists of an ironed blouse and a pencil skirt with some kind of design printed on the front and some kitten heels, low but not elderly.
"Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute." April rummages through her clothing, lips pursed and eyes squinting. She doesn't do 'cute', she does 'nice.'
With a final flick of her dresses, she spots a just-above-the-knee-length pale green dress, a curve-hugger and shoulder-barer.
Tilting her head to the side, she eyes it carefully. It's shorter than her regular knee-stopping skirt, but long enough to not come across as slutty. She'd have sex if the opportunity arose, but she's in no hurry to find a one night stand to hit it and quit it with.
"It'll do."
"Well, don't you scrub up nicely!" Lexie mocks, holding out a glass full of red wine with a smirk on her pink lips.
"I always scrub up nicely." April retorts back, brow raised and hazel eyes wandering the room.
She dabs her tongue against her teeth as she brings the glass closer to her lips.
"So, that's a nice choice." Lexie waves a hand down at her green ensemble with an approving smile. "Hoping to get some?"
"No." She keeps a straight face, avoiding her friend's gaze.
"You can, you know? I don't think God would mind at this point. Heck, he's probably got some money going in our wager." The brunette giggles, sharing a look with her sister a few stools down.
"Wager?"
"Uh." Lexie pauses, holding up a finger with a deer caught in headlights expression. "Nope. No. I don't know what I was saying." She shakes her head regrettably, "So, yeah. Let's get you laid, shall we?"
"So, Cliff, where are you from?" Lexie sups on her tequila, eyeing the man carefully.
The blonde haired man tugs on his tie, diverting his eyes back from April's cleavage. "I, uh, Michigan. Moved here back in November." He clears his throat, wipes the sweat from the bridge of his nose.
Lexie stiffs back a laugh at his obvious anxiety. Maybe he doesn't talk to girls that often.
"D'you wanna take me back to your place? Maybe show me around your bedroom for an hour… or two?"
April giggles, failing to hide her evident grin with her wine glass. "Lex."
He gulps a breath, "I'm not sure my mom would like that."
"You live with your mom?" Lexie squeaks, looking down to April briefly.
"That's…cute."
"It was nice meeting you, Cliff." The brunette pulls on April's arm before she can get another word in, dragging her back towards the bar where Meredith is waiting for them.
"Success?" The light brunette leans back against the counter.
"That guy would have either murdered one of us, or gotten his mom to do it for him. No. That was not a success."
Her best friend Cristina pops up from behind the bar then, a five dollar bill in her hand. "Do I owe money, yet?"
"Nope. Red still hasn't scored."
April frowns, placing her glass down on the bar and folding her arms over her chest, clutch tucked beneath her bicep, "Are you all really betting on this?"
"Of course." The curly haired woman behind the bar smirks, shaking her money around smugly, "You getting laid is like Moses parting the sea." Cristina nods to reaffirm her comparison, "Nobody sees it, and yet we all believe it. If you're getting some, I want my share."
"That makes no sense, but whatever, I'm going to ignore you now." April spins around to watch the club goers dancing, prancing, chatting.
She's not jealous of them. She's just a little envious of what might happen.
Wait, is she- Is she horny? Well, this is a rare occurrence.
It's either her hormones on full drive or she is as cranky as Lexie says she is. Maybe a little bit of both, even.
"Hottie, two o'clock." Her friend nudges her side, with a bony elbow poking her in the rib through the thin material of her tight dress. "This one doesn't look like a creeper."
As soon as she peeks across the room, April spots a tall, dark-haired man walking over to them. He has the features of a Hollywood movie star, the body of an athlete, the style of a erotica novel heroine's dream.
Damn it. This fine specimen can't possibly be for her.
"Hey."
"Hi." She chews on her bottom lip, ignores Lexie's stare from the corner of her eye.
"I gotta say, you look amazing." He grins, holding out his hand, "D'you wanna dance, maybe?"
He's forward, and she's a little swept off her feet.
She doesn't tell him that she doesn't dance like he probably wants her to, that she's used to ballroom dance classes and wedding hall waltzes.
April walks off with him after only a second's thought, after quickly passing Lexie her clutch and watching as Cristina hands Meredith her five dollars with a chuckle.
Done deal?
Not so fast.
She hears the sound of a familiar eighties' song playing in the background, one she used to listen to as a young girl. And it kind of wrecks the mood.
"You got moves?"
April wants to cringe at the cheesiness of his question, but instead manages to keep a moderately straight face. "I, uh- Not really. I'm more of a ballroom dance kind of woman."
She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, flicking her lashes and lowering her gaze to her hips when he drops rough hands to her waist.
"I bet I can change that."
"Uh, okay." She fakes a smile, slightly regrets following him away from the safety of her friends.
She does straightforward men. She likes straightforward men. But she almost loathes egotistical assholes.
His hands tighten on her hips, squeezing her body in his hold and forcing her hips from side to side.
She lets him continue for a moment, faking a smile and shifting her shoulders to same rhythm.
But then his grasp pulls her closer, and she's thrust against his hard chest, and he,s trying to kiss her neck.
With a shove of her hands against his abdomen, she tries to pull away from the man, but to no prevail as he refuses to let her go.
"Come on. We were just starting." He frowns with a slight smirk and grimaces at his look.
"Let me go."
"Nah, come on. We're just dancing." She feels his breath against the side of her neck, and feels the internal need to vomit.
This is disgusting. This is revolting.
She finally shoves him hard enough to push him a good step away from her, and before he can grab her again, a deep voice comes to her defence.
"Leave her alone, man." The intruder shakes his head, steps between the two of them, with his body half turned towards her.
He raises both brows, green eyes deepening as the older man snarls.
"Who the hell are you?"
"That doesn't matter. Walk away." He moves a hand out, ignoring the looks of a few people around them.
The handsy man shrugs, backing off, "Whatever. Have fun with that one." He points at April, and she ducks her head to avoid his eyes, almost disgusted with herself for letting him touch her.
The other guy nods as the man walks away casually, and then he turns to face the redhead with a somewhat concerned stare. "Are you okay?"
She nods once, licking her lips as she glances up to face the stranger, taken aback by his handsome looks and deep smile.
"I'm fine. I think I had him sorted anyway, but… thanks."
The darker skinned man nods, offering a hand for her to shake. "Well, I'm glad you're alright, …" He trails off his words, waiting for her to continue.
"April."
"April. I'm Jackson. Hi." The green-eyed man smiles, noticing her faint blush at his handshake, probably feeling the same spark he did upon contact.
The planner moistens her lips with her tongue then, flicking him a quick look, "I should, uh, get back to-"
"Not to him, right?"
"No. No, not to him." She almost giggles at his joke, pushing her hair behind both ears with flushed cheeks. "Gosh, no. To, uh, my friends, at the bar."
"Right." Jackson grins, finally letting her hand drop and sliding his hands into his trouser pockets. "So, are you guys leaving now, or-"
"Uh, no." April knits both brows, folds her arms over her chest. "Why?"
He licks his bottom lip, "Because I have to do something quickly, but if you're still not busy after that, then I'd like to buy you a drink."
"Oh." She nods once, twice, again.
What does Lexie always tell her to do? Play hard to get?
"I'll guess you'll have to come and find me then."
She teases with a soft smirk, long lashes flickering as she turns to walk away, leaving Jackson to watch her stride back towards her group.
Oh, boy.
"Who was that guy you were talking to that wasn't the guy you walked away with?"
Meredith rests an elbow against the bar, eyes the redhead carefully with motherly eyes. She's definitely the designated mom of the group when she wants to be.
April stills, quickly downing the rest of her abandoned wine resting at Lexie's side. "An improved version of the first guy?" She tries, innocently smiling behind the glass. "He's perfect."
"I know, I saw those dimples!" Her best friend turns to gush, dish, point out another detail she knows April will fawn over.
"Well, if he is as amazing as you think he is, then how about you bang him…and I can get my ten bucks back?" Cristina shows off a toothy smile, childish but smug.
"Ten? I thought it was five!"
"Well, Mer bet that you'd head off with the first guy. Then Little Grey decided that you'd probably end up getting swooped off your feet by some other dude. And I changed my bet to you getting it on with Dude Number Two, so…yeah…that makes me ten bucks short."
April nods, though she fails to see how this is amusing to her friends.
She doesn't believe she's as stuck up as they seem to think she is, and while she's never been too sure on the idea of having a random fling with some guy she just met, this one is seeming like a pretty perfect candidate for a hook-up.
"Where is Mr Handsome, anyway? What, he just chats you up then takes off?"
"He said he'd buy me a drink if I was still around. He just had something important to do first, I don't know." The redhead shrugs, maintaining a cool façade and careless expression. "Screw him if he doesn't come back." Figuratively, of course. She doesn't need him anyway. He'd just make a nice…second…knotch on her bedpost.
"Any chance you're still thirsty?"
She almost chokes on the final sip of her red wine when she hears his newly familiar voice behind her, low and husky and already powerful enough to make her weak.
April turns around slowly to face him, "Hi." She trails the "i", her cheeks reddening as she realises she'd spoken aloud. "You're still here."
"I can leave, if you want? Yeah. You know what, I'll leave." He points a finger out towards the exit, amused grin tugging at his lips.
She tries not to let her gaze linger on his mouth for too long. She fails. No shocker there.
"No, no. Stay." Her shoulders drop, her eyes widening as her own lips part to talk. He fails, too, for whatever that's worth. "I'll have that drink now. If you'll still have me." She can't help but smirk bashfully at her suggestion.
"I would have you any way you like."
"Did you just-"
"Day! Any day you like!" He ducks his head briefly, rubbing a hand down his face. "Should we just drink or something?"
She giggles, steps closer to him and away from her friends, "Yeah. Let's do that!"
"Your couch is, uh…couchy?"
A couple drinks and an offer to drive her home, and she'd ended up at his place after begging him to see the new designed he'd been talking about. She liked design, perfection.
His face creases in bemusement, watching as she lightly bounces up and down on one of the leather seats.
"Is that a new way of saying it's comfortable?" He jokes, sitting down beside her, on the arm of the two-seater, passing her a small glass of scotch.
"It's my way of saying it's uncomfortable." She reasons back, head tilted as she catches his eyes, bringing the glass up to her lips.
Ah, alcohol. Thankfully, she isn't drunk. Or, is she? Well, if she is, then he is, too. Which makes this double the fun, double the trouble.
"Right." Jackson nods, turning his body sideways to face her side directly. He digs his feet into the empty leather seat, glass of scotch resting in his palm. "Well, on behalf of the couch creator, I am truly sorry for purchasing such madness."
She snorts with a laugh, unintentionally, and her eyes widen. Then she laughs, aware of her little slip of noise. He smiles down at her, admiring the freckles spread across her shoulders and the crinkle in her nose when she laughs.
"And, well, please tell me if there's anything I can do to make it more comfortable for you." He swallows a breath, notices the way she places her glass down after only the smallest of sips. Thankfully, they aren't drunk. Or…okay, maybe they are a little bit.
"I'm very imaginative, you know? I'm…somewhat…of an artist." She half lies, half considers her profession an art. Chewing at her bottom lip, April spins around on the couch to face him more clearly, dress raising up her lap as she tucks her legs beneath her body. "I could think of a few things you could do."
"Yeah?" His eyes are darker than before.
Resting up on her knees, April shuffles onto his side of the new couch, palms flat against her thighs.
She's nervous but alcohol provides a kick. And he's charming, and attractive, and he likes her.
Just play hard to get.
"You could lie me down, have me any way you want." She teases, referencing his earlier slip of the tongue. With a sly grin, April straightens her back, leans up to draw herself closer to him.
His breath an inch away from her pert lips, Jackson sighs deeply, unable to tear his eyes away from her own deep hazel ones. "You're drunk."
"So are you." April responds snappily, moving her hands to finally grasp at his shirt, fingertips curling around the collar, touching his skin slightly. "Do you not want me?"
"I want you very, very badly."
Pushing her forehead against his own, she whispers, "Then take me." A soft smile graces her lips as she continues. "Or, you know, Jack, you could draw me like one of your French girls."
He falls into laughter at that, hands moving to cup the sides of her face in adoration. "Never quote Titanic to me when I'm going to kiss you." His lips curled, he leans down to capture her own lips, thumbs sweeping her cheekbones lightly.
She feels herself nod involuntarily at his kiss, letting her mouth drift open, hands moving to grasp at his neck hungrily.
It's either alcohol or stupidity that has him lay her down on his new couch, under his touch and in complete control.
"You sure we should do this?" He manages to breathe out after a second, when she's already unzipping the back of her dress and pulling down the thin straps to bare her strapless bra.
"No. But neither are you, so I think we'll be fine. Two negatives make a positive, right?" She gulps, wrapping her legs around his backside and pulling him down on top of her. "Kiss me again."
Alcohol or stupidity.
When she wakes up the following morning, all she really feels is a pounding in her head, the ache making her throw a hand up to rub her temple gently.
The second thing she notices is that she's not alone in the foreign bed, a tanned man with amazing biceps lying naked beside her.
The third and final thing she feels is that she isn't clothed either. The sheet is rubbing freely against her breasts and she grasps at the material securely as the man begins to move.
"Hey." He squints from the blinding sunlight creeping in through his shutters, and he throws an arm over his face as he turns to lie on his back.
April smiles gently, trying to keep a steady heartbeat. How the heck did she end up finally scoring…with him?!
"Hi." She shyly replies back, brushing her fingers through her red curls to check her appearance. She smells her breath on the back of her hand and cringes, disgusted at the alarming scent of alcohol. "Does your breath stink, too?"
He groans, shrugging against his pillow and peeking one eye open at her, "Probably." Jackson turns to face her, moving a hand to her face and caressing her cheek delicately, "Who cares?" He smiles, kisses her quickly, sweetly.
She pulls away with minor hesitation, "I should probably go home."
"Do you want me to drive you?"
"No." She replies back almost too quickly. "Not…it's not you. Or, I don't know, maybe it is." April shakes her head swiftly against her pillow, licking her lips to soften their dryness.
He lingers closer, "Because if I take you home then you'll let me in and we'll have morning coffee and sex? And you don't want that?"
"Not today." She confirms.
"What about if we just have coffee here? Or just sex?" He suggests. "Or, you know, coffee and sex, I'm sure we could find ways of making that work." The man teases her again, poking at her naked side with a finger, tracing the freckles along her ribcage.
April clenches her stomach, tingly from his touch. "That sounds amazing." Her breath hitches on the last word when he leans down and kisses along her side, starting with the skin beside her breast, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses down to her hip.
"Sex?"
Her chest pants heavily as he nears her thighs, gleaming up at her through his lashes, wicked look in his eyes.
"Work." She shifts out from under him at her own disapproval, resting her hands on his broad shoulders to pull him up alongside her. "Don't you have stuff to do?"
"I can work the bedroom, if you'd like?"
She rolls her eyes at that, glaring at him as she stands up.
"Okay, fine. I have a meeting in a couple hours, but- Oh, come on!" He kneels up, dragging the sheet around his waist as he admires her naked body redress. "You can't just do that and then leave!"
"Do what?" She raises a brow, pulls on her abandoned panties from the night before.
"That." He nods as though it's obvious, "I want you back in my bed. Right now."
April smiles proudly. Playing hard to get is clearly working for her.
She leans down to pick up her bra, waving it around briefly. "Is this killing you?" She bites her bottom lip, takes a step closer to him so he can touch her, fingertips wrapping around her backside.
"Stay with me."
"I'll leave you my number, okay?" April kisses the top of his teasingly before pulling away and slipping her bra on over her chest before retrieving her dress across the room.
She slides the green material over her shoulders, pulling down the hem and looking around for her shoes.
"I'll be calling you later today."
"I believe you." Deciding that her lost shoes would be somewhere in his living room, she aptly decides to bid him farewell. "Thank you for last night, Jackson."
He grins, throwing himself back down on the bed, "No. Thank you."
She closes his bedroom door then, determined to get her shoes back and leave him forever.
The whole point of a one night stand is to hit it and quit it, right? So why does she feel so compelled to write her number down for him like she said she would?
Slipping on her forgotten heels lingering by the sofa, she eyes the pad of Post-It notes on the coffee table.
It's only when she arrives home that she realises she'd forgotten her purse last night.
But luckily Lexie is the best friend she could have ever asked for because she finds her clutch sat on her kitchen table once she enters her apartment, after finally retrieving the spare key from under a random plant pot.
"I want details. Here's a decaf." There's a small note attached to a Starbucks coffee and April smiles.
Checking the time on the hanging clock above her doorway, she realises that there's only an hour left until her latest appointment. She really isn't in the mood to lose a client because of one drunken night out.
"Great." She quickly whips around the bathroom, through a quick shower and a thorough teeth brushing routine with mouthwash and floss.
Remove any trace of alcohol, of unprofessionalism. Hide all evidence of what happened last night.
When she's finally picked out an outfit fit for her meeting, a pink blouse and cream skirt, she slips on her favourite pair of heels and checks over her appearance.
Hair half-down, faint barely-there makeup, and a watch as the only accessory. Perfect.
She hitches a cab ride to the Montgomery Plaza, spotting the time on the cabby's clock as she goes. 11:10AM. Oh, boy.
He drops her off at the entrance of the building, and she quickly tips him before she has to speed walk and elegantly jog towards the ballroom. Files in one hand and coffee in the other, she's on a mission.
These are the days April Kepner likes best, believe it or not.
She makes it on time, just arriving as the bride to be is turning around to face her.
She's beautifully dark-skinned, with long curly black hair and a fancy dress sense.
"Stephanie Edwards?" April stops in front of the slightly younger woman, holding out a hand to shake.
The brunette smiles agreeably, shaking her hand in delight. "April Kepner, ah! I finally get to meet you!" She gushes, "Sorry, it's just… You did my friend Jo's wedding and she said you were amazing, so I'm eager to get started!"
"Same here." April laughs, tucks some hair behind her ear, "So, the Montgomery, huh?"
Stephanie nods with a proud smile as she glances around the amazingly decorated ballroom, "It's amazing, isn't it? My fiancé is friends with one of the owners so they're letting us use it as our venue."
With a nod, the redhead's smile widens. "That's incredible, wow! I'm not sure I've ever been dealt with a wedding this grandiose before."
"Well, we don't want anything too extravagant, though. You know? And, I mean, I say 'we' but it's mostly just 'me'. My man doesn't like this kind of thing. He's more of the leave-everything-until-the-last-minute type." Stephanie purses her lips with a soft giggle. "Rough night?"
April looks over at the bride-to-be with a confused frown until she points at the redhead's neck, finger aiming directly at a hickey at the base of her throat.
"Oh." The wedding planner coughs, sniffles, "Yes. That." She smiles politely, eyes wide as she changes the subject. "So, where is your groom?"
She opens the page of her planner, scribbles some words down for tomorrow's date.
"He's here somewhere." She shrugs, "I don't know. He said he had a late start to his morning. I guess he was just watching TV or something."
"Right. Yeah." April nods, "So, should we look around now, or wait for hi-"
A melodious voice interrupts her before she can finish her sentence, and April pauses, her body turning cold.
"Sorry I'm late."
The woman's fiancé stops beside his intended bride, hands on his hips and hood thrown over his head.
"Would you take that thing off, Jack? I don't want our wedding planner to think you're a hobo." Stephanie muses, flicking a look to April.
The redhead plasters a smile on her lips, refusing to admit defeat in her job.
The groom turns to face April then, face draining of all colour when he spots the gorgeous crimson haired woman.
"Hi."
"Hello." She offers her hand, ignores the spark that shoots through her when he shakes her hand falsely, pretending he hadn't been caressing her skin with his lips less than two hours earlier.
Liar. Cheater. Pig. Asshole. Idiot.
"Jack, right?"
"Jackson." He confirms, straight-faced and throat suddenly dry.
April licks her lips, forcefully pulls her hand away from his own.
Oh, boy.
"Great. Let's get started then, shall we?" She mutters with a false smile through gritted teeth.
Play hard to get, they say.
Fuck that.
Things couldn't get any harder if she tried.
NOTE: I know, I know. I have plenty more fics to update before I even think about starting a whole new venture. But when inspiration strikes, it strikes, right? It's best I just write what I feel when I feel it, and don't force any updates that'll only be half-arsed. I hope you enjoy this fic, and it's definitely taking a different approach than the movie did. Thanks for reading (and reviewing) :)
I imagine some lovely guest reviewers will have some harsh words to say about this because it doesn't feature rape, or unicorns or rainbows, or women portrayed as submissive creatures to their men, and well, it's by me. You hate me for no reason whatsoever, rude Guest reviewer who combines my name with Annie's for no reason whatsoever other than that you're severely deranged, so please read something else by someone other than myself. Excuse me for actually being able to write something good, of substance, in-character. Leaving anonymous hate is laughable. Have fun.
