AN: So I know absolutely nothing about police stations. I've only been in one once and that was totally not because I was arrested or anything and I don't really remember exactly what it looked like so this is completely made up. And I really have no idea what the description should be like so yeah.

Addison and I stumbled through the airport doors exhausted, starving and overwhelmingly curious. It's amazing what a plane ride and a cryptic phone call can do to someone. The initial adrenaline has started to fade, leaving me more inquisitive than ever. Instead of just the casual, far-away knowledge that Meredith did something illegal, there's this pounding, unrelenting voice in the back of my head asking me what the hell she did. Addison looks just as nervous as I probably do, she's picking at her nails and her leg hasn't stopped tapping in a shaky rhythm since we ran into each other on the airplane.

We hail a cab and give the driver the directions, both of us feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. This is like when we lived in the brownstone, Addison and I, hailing a cab in New York City.

"What do you think they did?" Addison asks, brows knit together and an unreadable expression on her face.

"No idea. Probably not something too horrible. I mean, it's Meredith."

"It's Mark."

"Good point."

I let a sigh escape, shutting my eyes for a moment. The next thing I know Addison's shaking me awake and telling me that we're here. We're here, at the New York City Police Department. I rub the sleep out of my eyes, mentally slapping myself awake. I need to be awake, need to be awake for Meredith, my pregnant girlfriend who got arrested. The laughter threatens to escape again, and I fight back a smirk while we drag ourselves up the steps. We're both losing our momentum, and I'm beginning to question why I wanted to come here in the first place.

We go up to the desk and I find myself face to face with blue uniforms and flashing badges. I've never really been in a police station before, I don't know what to expect.

The officer nods when we tell him why we're here and rises to his feet to lead us to Meredith and Mark. He guides us down the hallway, his shoes clicking against the spotless tile floor. Earlier, right after Meredith's phone call, I had pictured her in a prison, with barbed wire surrounding the grounds and inmates with spider- web tattoos curling up their arms. It's funny, thinking of that image now. It's funny because this building is probably close to a complete opposite of a prison. It's two cells, one of them occupied by a sleeping man in hobo gloves and a ratty scarf, the other holding a sleeping Meredith and a bored-looking Mark propped up against the cement wall.

"Finally!" Mark says as soon as he sees us, "What the hell took you so long?"

Addison and I exchange a confused look, our jaws dropping simultaneously. Addison finds words before I do, her face turning scarlet and her eyes flashing dangerously at Mark.

"Finally? Finally? We flew across the country to bail you two out and you don't even say thank you? You were the one who wanted to come to New York. You were the one who just expected us to fly out here and then you have the nerve to say finally?"

Meredith's eyes flutter open from the cot and she yawns, stretching and rising to her feet in one fluid movement so easily that I wonder if she was ever really asleep in the first place. She notices us right away, shifting her eyes to meet mine, her expression apologetic. She mouths 'I'm sorry' to me and I nod, not willing to give her anything more. As far as I can tell, Addison's still yelling at Mark but my eyes are locked on Meredith as she gently shuffles closer to me, as she curls her long fingers around the bars.

"You came," she says simply, sounding mildly surprised.

"I came."

Addison turns to glare at me, like I'm fraternizing with the enemy or something. When I give her a neutral shrug she whirls back around to face Mark.

"What the hell did you do?" She demands, and Mark looks like he's actually grateful that there are bars separating them from us.

"We…um…" Meredith stammers, biting her lip, "It's a little embarrassing."

"We were playing truth or dare with friends-"

"Savvy and Wiess," Meredith adds.

"Oh, god," Addison moans, slumping.

"How are they?" I ask, my tone, laced with genuine curiosity, completely inappropriate for the situation. Addison throws me another glare.

"They're fine. So we're out with Savvy and Weiss playing truth or dare and they have this new 'seize the day' thing-"

"Carpe Diem," Meredith says.

"Whatever. So we're doing crazy stuff that's on the brink between legal and illegal-"

"The brink," Meredith emphasizes.

"Would you stop?" Mark growls under his breath, breaking his stare with Addison and glancing towards Meredith, "You're getting me confused."

Meredith playfully zips her mouth shut and sinks back onto the mattress-less bed.

"So we're playing this game and all of a sudden things get…a little out of hand."

"What do you mean 'out of hand'?" I ask, my voice skating on ice as I remember back to the last time I bailed Mark out of a not-so-good circumstance.

"We printed out fake parking tickets and put them on a whole bunch of cars, okay?" Meredith blurts, then adds in a voice almost too low to hear, "And I flashed someone."

"I told you to stop doing that!" Mark grumbles from the corner of the cell, "I like telling stupid stories."

"He's just hung over," Meredith stage-whispers to me, cupping her mouth with her hand; probably trying to chase away the fact that she was arrested for indecent exposure. "He was fine an hour ago."

I'm too stunned to react, although Addison's obviously not, she's cradling her stomach in one hand and letting out peals of laughter that bounce off the cold, cement walls, alerting the guard and cutting short our stay.

"Aren't you going to get us out of here?" Mark complains to our backs as the guard reminds us in a bored voice that visiting hours are over.

"We'll let you spend the night," I call back over my shoulder, "Think of it as character building."

I hear a dull thud as he falls back against the wall and his low, muttered assurances to Meredith; "they'll be back."

--

I know I should be mad at them. I should be threatening to whisk Addison away to some seductive, secluded island in the middle of nowhere without Mark or Meredith. I should be pacing and deciding how I should get back at her for this, how I should pay her back for making me fly across the country for her. I should be, but for some inexplicable reason, the only emotion I can conjure up is…humor. The laughter sinks in, yet again, once Addison and I have checked in at a nearby hotel and sunk into our separate beds in our separate rooms. The soft, glaringly white pillow currently propped underneath my chin and nose is absorbing most of the sound. The light, happy sound of me alone in a hotel room, thinking about my girlfriend crouching next to the rim of a car, fake parking ticket in one hand and a devilish grin splayed across her lips. I can imagine her scanning the street for witnesses before slipping the paper discreetly underneath the windshield wipers of the car, her eyes glinting underneath the light from the streetlamp, waiting for Mark's signal. The image is so…Meredith that I have to laugh, have to love the fact that some cop probably saw her with her shirt off.

I push away the thought that trails behind a cop seeing her. I push away thoughts of Mark, and how he probably got more of a view than he was anticipating. I push them away, instead focusing solely on the cold pillow and the soft bed, and of Meredith playing truth or dare with a pair of my oldest friends, already at home with the life I left behind.

AN: This weekend's prom, so don't expect an update. Sorry! But I did find out what to make them arrested for. Like? Don't like? Let me know, por favor!