Disclaimer: I don't own Dirty Sexy Money, Private Practice or Grey's Anatomy.
Author's Note: This is such fun to write, and yes, I know the updates are slow. It's the down-side of getting bored easily and thus, having loads of stories on the go at the same time. I hope you guys think I captured the personalities well in this chapter. Now query: do you guys want the next chapter to focus more on Derek and Meredith, with the usual whiney reaction from Meredith? Or on Addison and Karen, with hints at what's caused Addison to spiral down in a black hole of doom?
Thank You's: Lady Isabelle Black, QUEENADDEK, rosseyanna, Dontia, Echante, Addekted, McMuffin, ILoveSarahSophia, Leona, goldentail, lilio and esnad. Your reviews and/or favouriting makes this story all that much more pleasurable to write, and I just wanted to take the time out to thank you guys for your support. I hope you'll like this chapter.
Darling Addison
Chapter II
"Adddddison! You're drunk," There was laughter and warmth in Karen's voice as she pointed out the obvious; her fingers finding their way back to her hair, with flirtatious twirling. "In fact, I think you're very drunk."
There was a reckless laughter, that sounded a little jaded and...dark...in a way that Derek had never heard before but Karen clearly had because her fingers fell still at her hair (no more distracting twirls that seemed to hold him hypnotised), her eyes widened and her mouth even fell open a little. Who knew that Karen Darling could show shock like an ordinary person? (Although admittedly, he'd never thought about Karen Darling this much before...)
His thoughts were cut short when her laughter ceased and slurred, loud words came through. "I'm nooott drunkkkk." Denial was always the first stage of getting drunk, according to Derek. "I'm so beyooond drunkkkk..." Apparently, Addison wasn't in denial. Well, she'd never really been one to shy away from the truth. It was quite admirable, when it wasn't annoying. He sort of liked the overly emphasised 'k' at the end of Addison's 'drunk'. She had so many idiosyncrasies, all of them entertaining by endlessly teasing her.
"Wow, so you're beyond drunk? That's... erm... that's not you, Addison. At least, not anymore." The momentary concern on Karen Darling's face was replaced by an impish smile that spoke of years of drunken secrets, mishaps and undoubtedly fodder for the gossip columns.
"Oh nooooo, I'm not beyooond drunkkkk. I passed that like bottles of wiiiiines agooo. I'm fucking Bizzy!"
Derek's brow furrowed and he saw a similar mixture of concern and aghast wash over Karen's face. Bizzy mentioned in any conversation around Archer or Addison was a bad idea and for Addison to bring her up herself...
"Addison, I'm on my way to you. I'm going to my jet right now..." Karen matched her actions to her words, her long legs on long heels walking clippity-clop across the floor in a walk that was surprisingly brisk and business-like. At least, it surprised Derek but he supposed she couldn't really be an airhead if she was going to work in business. "...and I'll be with you within a couple of hours. Stay away from the Tequila, Whiskey and Sambuca, stick with wine, red preferably. White always gives you bad hangovers." Derek's lips curled upwards again, as he heard the advice Karen was giving, his legs following Karen's longer, sexier legs automatically as he continued listening to Addison's carrying voice. Admittedly, there really wasn't humour in the situation anymore, but there was a feeling that kept him listening, a feeling he ignored and refused to face, a feeling that was far too akin to concern.
"Kareeen, I fucked uppp. I fucked up reaaaaallyyyy badlyyyy." She gave something that sounded like a hiccup, before ending quietly and morosely on, "I fuckedddd upppp." It wasn't what she said that shocked Derek. It wasn't her horrendously drunken state or the crap she was coming out with or even the mention of her mother's name, which he'd only heard on previous catastrophic events. (Or events that seemed catastrophic to Addison, anyway.) It wasn't that her voice sounded angry or upset, scared or disappointed. It sounded horribly like acceptance. There was a painful constriction around his throat and his heart was beating too fast and too hard, and not in the enjoyable way at all. And he continued following Karen's long legs on long heels, wondering what the hell had happened to Addison, the one he'd loved and the one he'd hated?
"Oh, well, if you've fucked up, we can have a fucked-up-off, if you want? I'll drink Tequila, you drink wine, and we can see who's fucked up more?" Derek admired how Karen kept cool, though he did wonder if it was because she wasn't really emotionally involved at all. "Ooooh, and the winner gets bought Valentino couture by the loser, right?" God, she actually sounded excited about it now. What the hell was wrong with these crazy socialites, who weren't all stupid, as it turns out?
"Kareeeennnn, I'm realllyyy saaaad," Addison said, quite unnecessarily.
"I know, love, I know. I'll be with you soon and it'll be all fine. I promise." Derek blinked in surprise at Karen's caring and soothing tone. He was starting to think he really had badly misjudged socialites or maybe just this one in particular? After a long goodbye, full of various terms of endearments and Addison's long, slurred words with the last syllable overly emphasised, Karen put her mobile phone away and turned around so abruptly that Derek was within centimetres of bumping into her. He hated the fact that his heart beat didn't slow down all that much, even when he was stable on his feet, without any bump of any kind. "Why are you following me around? Is this some strange stalker behaviour I should get my bodyguards to deal with?"
"I just wanted to hear the end of that conversation."
"Why?"
Her question took him aback. Why? Come to think of it, why was he so curious about the conversation? "Because it was entertaining." Not quite the truth, but not quite a lie, he told himself, and very much the wrong answer.
"Entertaining? Entertaining huh?" Her hair was really shiny as she flicked it back impatiently. Why didn't normal girls' hair look like that? "So it's entertaining for you to hear how broken and sad your ex-wife is? It's entertaining for you to hear how my best friend, whose life is anything but fucked up, is drowning in alcohol because she thinks it is? So you think is entertaining-" She broke off with a disgusted snort and turned to face the elevator, impatiently tapping a pretty foot in blue shoes that had heels six inches long. When the door pinged open and she gracefully moved into the elevator, Derek had to actually force his eyes to move away from her feet, stepping into the elevator beside without knowing why.
"Where are you going?" She didn't remove her eyes from the ceiling. What exactly was she staring at?
Derek looked up, trying to work out what she found so interesting, before answering her briefly. "Down."
"And you're going down because...?"
"I have business down there." Lies, blatant lies but she couldn't prove them wrong.
"Fine, but just to warn you, if my bodyguards do see you following me, they won't think twice before shooting." He wondered at the sincerity of that statement. Surely they would think twice, maybe even thrice? "That's courtesy of numerous attempts at killing me or my other family members."
Ok, so maybe they wouldn't think twice. He followed her out of the lift anyway, as it reached the ground floor.
"Goodbye Dr. Shepherd." He blinked at the abrupt, formal statement, delivered by a lady who wasn't flirtatiously twirling her hair or had her head tilted childishly to the side. This was a very confident woman, one who was also distant and blatantly dismissing him. He summoned up his most charming smile and flashed it at her. "Nice meeting you, Karen."
Her eyebrow lifted with an expression of acute nausea and disgust mingled on her face. "Whatever." Her shiny hair swung around in an oval as she turned around and walked briskly away, towards the exit of the hospital. He hated that the smell that hung around him made him miss her company or that he stood and watched her long legs on her long heels walk clip-clop away. Most of all, he hated that tingling feeling that kept telling him that something was wrong, disastrously wrong, and he couldn't for the life of him work out what it was. He shrugged and turned to the lift again, ready to go to his office and focus on work. Socialites could be such distractions!
