Disclaimer (because I forgot on the first two parts): I don't know Izzie, Addison or any other characters. They all belong to Shonda.

A/N: Here's the third chapter! This one was written to the prompt "We shouldn't". I hope you'll enjoy :)

03. Muffins

Forty-eight muffins.

That's four batches of muffins. A ridiculous amount of flour, eggs, baking powder, butter, chocolate, milk and coconut extract. And sugar. Lots and lots of sugar. And Izzie knows she has enough. Enough muffins for herself, Meredith and Alex, enough to give some to Joe and Walter, enough to even give some to George and his wife. Enough muffins. But she opens another packet of flour and gets ready to make another batch. The fifth. Sixty muffins. And this isn't right.

It's not right to spend her first free day in weeks baking insane amounts of muffins. But it was either that or drinking herself into oblivion, and she doesn't think she could pull off the drinking thing as well as Meredith does, anyway. And here's no way she's going to Joe's, because Dr. Montgomery goes there sometimes – with Callie, no less – and drinking home alone is just too sad. Sadder than sixty muffins? She doesn't know, but at least you can't get cirrhosis from baked goods.

She could have pulled a Cristina and refused to leave the hospital. At least that way she wouldn't have baked at all. But she needed the day off. She really, really did. She needed to stay away from the hospital. From the place where Dr. Montgomery works with Alex and Izzie tries to stay away from them. From the place where Dr. Montgomery kissed her – and Izzie kissed her back – six days ago. So, muffins aside, she's glad she has the day off. At least now she can try not to think about her. About the kiss. Kisses, now. She can keep telling herself they meant nothing even though, deep down, she thinks they did.

The doorbell rings when she's in the middle of beating all the ingredients in a big bowl, and she stops for a second to think about it. Nobody uses that doorbell. Ever. Cristina just walks inside whenever she wants to, and George still has his keys. McDreamy comes attached to Meredith – who also has keys – and there are no more possibilities. A quick knock on the door startles her back to reality, and she walks to the door with the bowl of batter still in her hand. "I'm coming!" But she stops mid-step when she sees who's waiting on the other side of the door. Dr. Montgomery. And she hates whoever invented glass doors. Because, sure, it's really useful to be able to see who's on the other side, but you know what? They can see you too. So Izzie has to open the door, because Dr. Montgomery has seen her, and she can't really run away now.

"Hi, I… I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your day off, but I have the day off too, and… well, maybe we could talk."

And she almost drops the bowl, because she really doesn't think talking would be good. Couldn't they just pretend it never happened? Pretend there was no kissing whatsoever and go on with their lives? But, of course, Dr. Montgomery has to be an adult about it. She couldn't be an adult when it came to not kiss Izzie back. Or to not kiss her, period. But, now? She's a freaking adult. And she hates Dr. Montgomery a little bit for that. "Oh. Sure… come on in." And Izzie steps aside and lets Dr. Montgomery walk into the house, secretly wondering if the universe will implode the moment she sets foot inside. Because of her dark forces colliding with Meredith's vital space. Maybe she should stop listening to George when he tells her about his dorky comic books.

But the universe doesn't implode, and Dr. Montgomery sort of begins to take off her coat, so Izzie figures she should offer to take it. "Oh, here, let me…" But the bowl is on the way and she really isn't doing a good job at balancing it on one hand while she tries to help Dr. Montgomery off her coat with the other, so Dr. Montgomery stops her. "That's… I'll just… okay, I'll do it myself. Thanks." And she sounds slightly mad, which Izzie assumes comes from seeing her coat so close to being dipped in the muffin batter. If it was her coat – if she had a coat that was worth more than all her personal belongings put together – she would have been mad too. "Sorry." And Dr. Montgomery half-smiles in a very awkward way that matches the general atmosphere and gives a small shake of her head, letting her know it's okay.

"So…" And she looks at the bowl in Izzie's hands with a confused expression on her face that makes Izzie wonder if she's ever used a stove in her entire life. She guesses the answer's no, not that she blames her. "Were you baking?" Normally, Izzie would have rolled her eyes at the obvious question. But the look in Dr. Montgomery's face – that look that tells her she's really trying to comprehend the mysterious mechanics of cooking – is too endearing to be mocked. "Yeah, I was. Muffins." And she's not quite sure why she doesn't seem to be able to form coherent sentences, but she hopes whatever it is changes soon. "Oh. That's nice. Muffins are… nice." And Izzie's pretty sure Dr. Montgomery has never stopped to think about where muffins come from, but she appreciates the compliment, anyway.

When the silence becomes unbearable, Izzie decides to speak. Even though she's not quite sure about what to say. "You wanted to talk?" And she wishes her voice hadn't sound that cold, but it was either that or a stuttering mess, so she'll settle for cold. Even though Dr. Montgomery's startled look made her regret it more than a little bit. More than she's managed to regret the kisses, wrong as that is. "Yes. Yes, I… you can keep baking, if you want. I won't be too long." And Izzie nods and leads her to the kitchen, because she figures baking will keep her calm while Dr. Montgomery tells her whatever it is that she wants her to hear.

"Wow. That's a lot of muffins."

And Izzie blushes from head to toe, because it's one thing to be slightly crazy and bury your problems in mountains of muffins, but it's a whole different thing to let Dr. Montgomery see said mountains. "I… I'm giving them to friends and family." A lie. She's probably going to eat them all as soon as this talk is over. Two at a time. But Dr. Montgomery really doesn't need to know the extent of her insanity. "Well, that's nice of you." And Izzie nods as she resumes beating the batter, and another silence begins. Luckily for her, Dr. Montgomery breaks it this time. "What I want to talk about is… our professional relationship. Or lack thereof."

Izzie beats faster, because she doesn't really know what's going on. She didn't want Dr. Montgomery to talk about the kisses. She really, really didn't. But now – now that Dr. Montgomery was apparently ignoring the fact that they ever happened – she feels slightly hurt, in some twisted way. She wishes the attending would at least act as if they'd affected her in some way. In any way. But she's being strictly professional – which is not surprising – and Izzie just nods and half-smiles, as if she'd been thinking about the same thing. "I want you to work in my service again. If you're still interested. I think you have talent, and I know we've had bad experiences… but I'd hate to see you waste your talent in another specialty just because you hate me for what I did with that quintuplet."

And Izzie stops for a moment, trying to wrap her mind around that. Dr. Montgomery really is ignoring the kisses. She's actually ignoring the past two weeks completely, by the looks of it. And it's not that she doesn't resent her for what she did with Emily – she does, she really, really does – but Dr. Montgomery surely knows that's not the reason why she's been working extra clinic hours, right? "That's… I don't. Hate you, I mean. I don't hate you." And Dr. Montgomery nods softly, almost shyly – if she was capable of anything resembling shyness – as if she already knew. And Izzie thinks she does. She thinks she knows what's going on, and she just chooses to ignore it. And, seriously, denial? Not so adult, for a woman who visits people to talk things through.

"Good. I… I'll see you tomorrow before rounds, then." And Dr. Montgomery is fiddling with her hands, and Izzie feels slightly sorry for her, because she at least has her baking to keep her entertained, but Dr. Montgomery is doing it all by herself. And she'd probably kill for something to do with her hands right now. "Yeah. Tomorrow." But Dr. Montgomery doesn't make a move for the door, and Izzie doesn't stop working on her batter, and the situation is both awkward and comfortable, confusing as that is. And Izzie is really trying very hard not to let Dr. Montgomery's look get to her, but the attending is looking at her hands with a concentration nobody had ever had when looking at any part of her body, and this is really not all right.

"You make that look really easy."

And Dr. Montgomery does that thing with her hands, the thing that's like a cross between pointing and waving, and Izzie can't help but think it's impossibly cute. And she really shouldn't be thinking about that. She shouldn't be thinking anything about Dr. Montgomery cute, but she does. And she figures it's at least better than finding her sexy. Except it isn't. Because sexy is shallow, and cute is more than that. Cute implies some feeling, and she just can't have that. So she cracks a joke. "I could say the same about you and intrauterine surgeries." And she realizes it was both stupid and unfunny, but it's too late to take it back now, and she just wants the batter to swallow her whole like some sort of sweet quicksand.

But Dr. Montgomery laughs – she really, really does – at her joke, and Izzie can't help but let a beaming smile appear on her face. Because she's made Dr. Montgomery laugh. And not a sarcastic laughter like the ones McSteamy gets from her, or a forced laughter like the one she uses around McDreamy. We're talking real laughter here. The one that reaches Dr. Montgomery's eyes and makes her sort of tilt her head back just so, so that a few strands of shiny red hair fall on her face when she looks at her again. And it's all Izzie can do not to reach for them and tuck them neatly behind her ear, but she stops herself. Because that? Is exactly why she needed the day off in the first place. Because Dr. Montgomery makes her think inappropriate thoughts. And the worst part is, those inappropriate thoughts make her smile widen and her stomach do flip-flops. And that is far from right.

"Well, I'll tell you what." And Dr. Montgomery tucks her hair behind her ears and leaves her coat hanging neatly from the back of a chair. "I'll let you watch my next intrauterine surgery if you let me watch you bake those muffins." And the look in Dr. Montgomery's face – a look that's relaxed and friendly and completely different from the ones she sports at work – makes her giggle and nod, because she doesn't think anyone could ever say no to that. "I'll even let you help me, if you want." And Dr. Montgomery's face lights up as if an offer to bake muffins was the best thing in the world, and Izzie can't help but think Dr. Montgomery is something special. And she sort of hates her for that, because it makes it all even more difficult for her.

"Ok, here. You can make the frosting." Izzie hands Dr. Montgomery a small bowl and the ingredients, and the smile in the attending's face falters as she looks at it. And Izzie realizes she probably has no clue what she's supposed to do. "You… mix it all. It's easy, really. Just follow those directions in the book for the quantities, and mix it all. Sort of like Chemistry." And Dr. Montgomery glances at the book and cocks an eyebrow as if suddenly everything made sense in her head. "Like Chemistry, huh? Now, that I can do." And Izzie giggles again, because seriously, Dr. Montgomery? Is fun to hang out with. Which is both awesome and terribly, terribly bad for her.

And she tries to focus on her batter, but watching the always confident surgeon's hands tremble slightly as she adds the ingredients to the mix is nothing short of adorable, and Izzie has a soft spot for adorable. So she looks at her, and at her hands. And she just takes her in, because Dr. Montgomery truly is gorgeous, even when she's squinting slightly in concentration. But Dr. Montgomery finishes mixing it all and looks up at her, a proud smile on her face. "Well…?" And it takes Izzie a moment to come back to reality and realize Dr. Montgomery wants her to look at the frosting. So she looks at it and notices it's somehow too liquid and not thin enough, all at the same time. But she can't bear the thought of Dr. Montgomery's smile disappearing from her face, so she smiles and nods and pretends to admire the attending's work. "That's… really something, for a first try. Great job, Dr. Montgomery."

"Addison."

And Izzie looks at her, startled, because she wasn't expecting that. "It's Addison. I'm not Dr. Montgomery here." So Izzie smiles and blushes slightly, and hands the chocolate frosting back to Dr. Montgomery – Addison – as she takes the muffins to the oven. "Addison. Okay." And it's not okay, really. The way saying her first name is making her feel. But she doesn't want to think about it, and she sets the oven and closes its door before going back to her original place. "This is crap." Izzie looks up from the book at that and sees Addison dejectedly stirring her frosting. "It's not crap, it's…" But the attending doesn't let her finish. "No, it's crap. It looks nothing like the one in the picture. It's not smooth. It hasn't reached spreading consistency!"

Izzie has to make a great effort not to laugh then. Because it's both adorable and hilarious, and it's extremely hard not to burst out laughing at Dr. Montgomery's cookbook drama. "It's really not so bad, Dr. Montgomery, it's…" But she's cut off, once again. "I won't learn if you sugar-coat your criticism. I need to know exactly what I did wrong so I can improve my technique! And it's Addison." And Izzie smiles as she goes over to where she's standing, taking the bowl from her and stirring it slightly. "Addison. It's really not terrible, you know. You just… you have to stir it like this, see?" And she starts demonstrating it, the frosting quickly reaching "spreading consistency" under her experienced hands. "See? Once again, you make it look like anyone could do it, Izzie!" And the sound of her first name coming from Dr. Montgomery is enough to make her hands shake and her knees weaken, and the bowl – with the frosting – lands on the front of Dr. Montgomery's shirt.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, sorry, Dr. Montgomery! Let me…"

And she starts trying to clean it with her apron, but she's only making it worse. "It's Addison." That's all Dr. Montgomery says, and her breath tickle the skin on Izzie's face when the words leave her mouth, and Izzie really can't concentrate right now. So she keeps rubbing the stain – and spreading it – because that's the only thing she seems to be able to do. Until Dr. Montgomery places her hands on Izzie's to stop her, and Izzie looks up at her, and Dr. Montgomery speaks again, softer than before. "I don't think that's working." And Izzie nods but doesn't move, and she swallows hard – so hard she swears Dr. Montgomery has probably heard her – and has to make a physical effort to talk with her suddenly dry mouth. "You can borrow one of my shirts. That one's ruined."

And Dr. Montgomery nods softly and keeps her hands on Izzie's, and Izzie decides she'll gladly risk another week without surgeries as long as she gets to kiss Dr. Montgomery just once more. So she does. She kisses her, and this time the attending returns it almost as soon as their lips touch. And this can't be anything but right. Because Izzie's fingers are now tangled in Dr. Montgomery's hair, and her tongue is tracing Dr. Montgomery's lower lip, and she's beginning to feel slightly light-headed from just how right this kiss feels. And Dr. Montgomery pushes her slightly against the counter as she deepens the kiss, and she suddenly feels the urge to touch and feel and kiss more of her, but the clothes are on the way right now. So she moves one hand away from the soft hair and undoes the last button of the stained shirt, and she has to control herself not to do a little happy dance when Dr. Montgomery doesn't pull away. And then the oven's timer rings.

And Izzie has never hated an inanimate object as much as she hates that oven right now, but she can't really ignore it if she doesn't want the muffins to become little pieces of coal and the house to light on fire, so she reluctantly pulls away and looks into the attending's eyes. "Uh… I should… get those." And Dr. Montgomery nods and brushes her hair with her fingers before straightening her shirt and buttoning it once again. And the moment is – for the third time in three weeks – gone. She places the muffins on the counter and tries to think of something to say, but she's got nothing and she almost wishes Dr. Montgomery would leave already. Except she doesn't, really.

"You were saying… about the shirt?"

Izzie looks at her in silence for a moment, trying to crack whatever code Dr. Montgomery is using, and she suddenly remembers and shakes her head. "Right. The shirt. I… come upstairs, I'll get you one." And she leads her upstairs, to her room, and opens her closet looking for something Dr. Montgomery could borrow. She picks one of her best shirts – one that's worth around the same as one of Dr. Montgomery's socks, but that's hardly the point – and hands it to the attending, smiling awkwardly at her. "You can have this one. I think it'll fit you, I hope it will…" And Dr. Montgomery nods and reaches for the shirt, but their hands touch and neither of them pulls away. And, seriously, this is getting ridiculous.

Looking into Dr. Montgomery's eyes, she knows – she doesn't know how or why, but she does – she's not the only one who's feeling whatever it is that she's feeling. Because Dr. Montgomery bites down on her lower lip just so, and Izzie's knees go weak again. But she's not the only one. Because she can feel Dr. Montgomery's hand shaking slightly against hers, and the look in her eyes lets her know there's definitely going on inside the attending's head. So she leans in again and kisses her softly, their lips barely touching, and she feels chills down her spine when Dr. Montgomery's hands move to her waist, pulling her closer. And she decides this may be wrong – technically – but she wouldn't change it for all the right things in the world.

What started as a soft kiss quickly turns into an almost desperate one, and Izzie has had enough. Or not nearly enough, depending how you want to see it. So she moves her fingers back to Dr. Montgomery's shirt and undoes the buttons, and the stained shirt quickly joins the clean one on the floor. And Izzie's hand travels to Dr. Montgomery's stomach, and she can't help but let out a quiet sigh when she finally feels Dr. Montgomery's warm skin against her own. She draws intricate patterns on Dr. Montgomery's stomach as she lets herself melt into the kiss, but Dr. Montgomery's lips suddenly leave hers, and she has to resist the urge to let out a whiny sound in protest.

But the attending's lips move to Izzie's neck, and Izzie closes her eyes and tilts her head to the side to give her better access, because Dr. Montgomery is really good at that. A soft moan escapes her lips when she feels Dr. Montgomery's teeth grazing that sensitive spot behind her ear, and she decides enough is enough and starts pushing her towards her bed, slowly and gently, until Dr. Montgomery falls on her back on top of the covers, and Izzie crawls on top of her. Dr. Montgomery kisses her again as she starts pulling up her top, and Izzie breaks the kiss just long enough for Dr. Montgomery to slide the piece of clothing off and throw it on the floor. And Dr. Montgomery smiles at her - a genuine smile - and Izzie feels a mix of emotions bubbling in her stomach and decides to make sure they're not going to regret this afterwards.

"Dr. Montgomery, we shouldn't…"

But her voice sounds far from convincing. "Addison. And I know." And Addison kisses her again, which is exactly what Izzie needs. Because now, she knows. She knows this isn't right, but it feels so. And that is enough. Especially now that Addison's fingers have just snapped her bra open, and it soon joins the rest of the discarded clothes on the floor. And she should feel more self-conscious – she really, really should – but she can't. Because Addison's hands are on her breasts, and Izzie's mind is too clouded to form any thought as complex as the ones that come with self-consciousness. So she decides to relax and enjoy, until she realizes the bare skin on Addison's stomach is far from enough for her, so she reaches behind her and undoes her bra, and she slides one of her hands up Addison's body until her fingertips graze the underside of one of her breasts, and she thinks she may lose her mind right then and there.

Because this is happening, and it doesn't feel wrong. Or weird. And it should, really, but it somehow doesn't, and this is more than she can wrap her mind around. But she decides this is not really the best moment to try and do that anyway, so she goes back to kissing Addison as if she needed it to live. And, when the lack of air becomes an issue, Izzie pulls away slightly and opens her eyes to look at Addison, and Addison smiles at her, and everything is right in the world. And Izzie leaves a trail of soft kisses from Addison's lips to her neck, because something inside her tells her this may be her only chance, and she's not about to risk not being able to taste Addison's skin.

Addison's breath catches in her throat when Izzie's tongue replaces her lips on Addison's skin, and Izzie can't help but smile against her neck, because this feels impossibly right. Ridiculously right, even. So she continues her exploration of Addison's body and kisses her way down to her breasts, earning a quiet moan from her. And Izzie's mouth gives its undivided attention to Addison's breasts while her fingers fiddle with the button on Addison's pants, and she can feel the mood begin to shift as the curious exploration is replaced by lust and Addison's fingers dig into her back. And she pushes Addison's pants down her legs and runs her fingertips along the soft skin on her way back up, feeling goose bumps on Addison's skin.

But Addison is apparently not interested in letting Izzie take the lead, because Izzie's jeans have somehow joined the rest of their clothes on the floor, and Addison's hand slowly slides under Izzie's panties just when Izzie began to pull Addison's down her body. And Izzie doesn't know exactly what she did or how she didn't, and she's not even sure what Addison did or how, but whatever it was, she wants to do it again. And she wants her to do it again. Because she'll never forget the sound of Addison's voice begging her not to stop, or the feeling of helping Addison ride the waves of pleasure that went through her, or the sound of Addison moaning her name when she came. And she'll never forget the feeling of Addison's fingers inside her, or the raw lust on Addison's eyes as she looked at her, or the proud smile on Addison's face when she screamed as she came.

And they fall asleep afterwards, content and exhausted, Addison's hand covering hers on Izzie's stomach, and Izzie's back pressed against her chest. And Izzie – who feels slightly dizzy from all the emotions she was feeling at once – dreams of red hair and long legs again, and it's even better than before. Because she knows – even in her subconscious – that she has those long legs tangled with her own, and the red hair sprawled over her pillow.

Izzie wakes up hours later, and she feels suddenly cold when she realizes Addison isn't there. She's alone on the bed, and she's terrified of the possibility of Addison having left. Or of it all being a dream. And she looks around and spots Addison pulling up her pants, and she smiles sleepily at her as she speaks. "Hey." Addison smiles back, but her smile is tense, and Izzie can feel a tight knot forming on her throat. "Where are you going?" Addison puts on her bra and picks up her stained shirt without looking at her. "Home." And it feels like a punch to Izzie's stomach, but she wills herself not to cry or make a scene. It's bad enough that Addison regrets it; she doesn't need any more humiliation, thank you very much. "Oh."

And she decides being careful now is both useless and stupid considering they had sex hours ago, so she forgets all about politeness and being appropriate when she speaks again. "Come back to bed." And Addison still refuses to look at her, but Izzie swears she can see a hint of struggle on her face, and she tries again. "Please?" And she can't believe she's begging, but something inside her tells her this is one of those moments when begging is more than worth it. "We shouldn't…" And Izzie nods, because she knows Addison's right. They shouldn't. But she can't say she cares. "I know, Addison." And she does look at her then, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, as long as that's clear."

And Addison climbs back into bed after taking off her pants, but there's an awkward silence in the room while they lay next to each other looking at the ceiling, and Izzie decides to try and lighten the mood. "You're lucky you're good in bed. Your frosting was crap." And, once again, Addison laughs – she really laughs – at her joke, and Izzie feels as if there was nothing in the world that could go wrong. Not while Addison's laughing. And not when she rolls on her side and looks at Izzie as she runs her fingers through the intern's blonde hair. "What are we doing?" And Izzie shrugs slightly, because she really doesn't know. And she knows she should, but she doesn't. So she answers with the only thing she does know. "You can stay here tonight." And Addison stays in silence for a moment, and Izzie knows she's going through the pros and cons in her head. She just looks like that kind of woman. "All right. But my frosting wasn't crap." And Izzie giggles and Addison pretends to be offended as she wraps her arms around her once again.

And this just can't be wrong.