I always knew I was different. Different as in something is wrong with me. I always ignored it. My differency. I pretended that I was just a normal person. I was a weird person. I always have been. For Gods sake I played in a morgue. I was weird! I practically lived in the hospital until I was sixteen. Because then I started driving and started staying home, deciding to dye my hair and listen to metal music as loud as my stereo could go. Whenever someone would ask, "How are you?" or "Are you okay?" I would always reply, "I'm fine." Until one day I wasn't. Today I wasn't. Today I wasn't okay. I wasn't fine. I was... I was crazy. I had gone crazy. I am crazy. I don't know what happened, I just couldn't deal with it anymore. Derek, or my mother, or my daddy issues. I couldn't do it anymore. So I broke down. In an on-call room. Just pacing around the room, sobbing. And then I fall to the ground, hugging my knees, crying and letting out awful sobs and whimpers.

The door opens and there stands Addison. I laugh at myself and wipe my eyes. "Are you okay?" she asks. Typical. Are you okay? I laugh again. I furiosuly wipe at my eyes, trying to rid my cheeks of wetness. "I'm fine. Great I'm fact." I stand up and laugh again. "Look at me. I'm crying in a on call room infront of my exboyfriends wife," I say. "Exwife," she corrects. "Right." My vision starts to blur again. "I'm sorry," I say, "Just a bad day." She smiles, "You want to talk about it?" I chuckle, "That's the last thing I want to do. Especially with you. You probably hate me." "I don't hate you." I shake my head, "I'm not going to dump my problems on you." "Hit me," she challenges. I scoff. "Seriously dump away." I take a deep breathe and sit on a bed. "There was a time when I was just a kid. When I would just go to school and ride the bus to the hospital. I wasn't the slutty intern. The intern who fell for an attending she obviously had no chance with. I was just a kid. A kid who had no care in the world and didn't even know what sex was. Then I wonder how I was ever so innocent. Now I'm a Dirty Mistress. People circle around me and whisper, 'Poor girl.' or 'She must be so heart broken.' I was just a kid. I want to go back there." I sigh. I look up at the redhaired woman. Only then did I notice how beautiful she actually was. How her hair fell perfectly around her shoulders. Meredith stop it.

"I'm broken," I whisper. "Everyone breaks sometimes," she says back. "No. I'm broken not sometimes I'm unfixable. Beyond repair." She says nothing. I stand up and sigh. "Told you I shouldn't dump my problems on you." As I'm reaching for the handle she places a hand on my shoulder and spins me around, pressing me hard against the door. Her lips crash onto mine. My hands instinctively find her cheeks, pulling her harder into our kiss. When she pulls away we're both gasping for air. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that," she whsipers "Really?" I ask. "Really."

I lean into her chest and she kisses me again. And then again. And then my shirt is off. And then her dress is off. And then my pants are off. Then we're on the bed. And then we're naked.

The next morning I wake up on top of Addison under the sheets of the on-call room. I close my eyes again and beneath me Addison ask, "What does this mean?" I sigh. "I don't know." I roll onto the space beside her and stare up at the bed above us. I prop my head on my hand. "Does it mean anything?" she asks. "It means a lot," I whisper. "So is it a one time thing?" she asks. Then I realize she doesn't see me as a dirty mistress. She sees me as Meredith. Just Meredith. No one has ever done that. Not even Cristina. None of my friends see me as just Meredith. I am known for my crazy one night stands. "I hope so." She looks over to me. "Me too."