Forever
A Grey's Anatomy fic by Gigi
Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own anything. Stop breaking my heart by making me repeat it.
Chapter 12: A Toast
A/N: This is important, so please read: I received a rather unsavory review for my last chapter, ninety percent of which focused on and belittled me for my spelling of Addison's mother's name. I direct that person to read Gorgeous, in which I spell her name correctly. I know how to spell her name. I realize the correct spelling is "Bizzy," but I, for one, find that spelling to be rather hideous. I preferred to model the spelling after that of the actress, Busy Phillips. I do not appreciate condescension and implications that I'm stupid over something as minor as the spelling of a name. I don't mind constructive criticism, but there was nothing constructive about this. Please, if you wish to correct my spelling, do not do so in such a distasteful manner. I really don't appreciate it.
A/N 2: Sorry for the killjoy Author's Note, but that needed to be addressed. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the one chapter I actually outlined before writing! Don't forget that Callie and Mark didn't really become best friends until season 4.
The Captain walked into his office almost immediately upon his return to his home in Connecticut. On his desk rested a sizeable pile of tests, which needed grading from his class in the Yale School of Medicine. Sighing, he shrugged out of his heavy coat and draped it over the back of one of the straight-backed chairs sitting opposite his mahogany desk. Almost as soon as he'd settled himself in his leather swivel chair behind the desk, a knock at his door sounded.
"Come in," he beckoned, removing the first test from the pile and retrieving a red pen.
The door opened to reveal his wife, Busy. "How was your trip?" she asked quietly as she walked further in the room to stand behind the chair with his coat on it.
"It was fine," he answered. "Nothing really extraordinary took place. I talked; they pretended to listen."
"I'm glad." Silence followed as Busy entertained herself with the buttons of his coat.
The Captain looked up at his wife, noticing the tightness around her lips. His eyes looked lower at her hands. She never fiddled with things. "Busy?"
She continued playing with the buttons for a few seconds more. "When was the last time you spoke to Addison?"
A puzzled look settled on the Captain's face. "I don't know," he responded, "maybe a few months ago? She never really relishes talking with me, Busy. You know that."
"Why did you allow such a rift to open between you two?" Busy's tone was suddenly very sharp. "You two used to be quite close."
"When she was six," he clarified.
"So what changed?"
The Captain hesitated. What changed was that Addison matured enough to become aware of his numerous instances of infidelity to his wife and resentful towards him for making her lie on his behalf. But he couldn't tell Busy that, no matter how alike they were on that regard. It was an unspoken promise between the two of them. "She…disapproved of my less endearing qualities."
"You never made any effort to reconcile with her," Busy accused. "You just let her drift away."
"What's this about?" The Captain was not one to take such accusations lightly, especially coming from the woman who committed the exact same acts as he. He returned his attention to the paper in front of him and was about to mark on the test when—
"Our daughter is getting married again," she declared. The Captain's head whipped up, his expression changed from one of irritation to one of sheer shock. "Our daughter is getting remarried, and I found out when I received the wedding invitation for six weeks from now. Next time you leave town, don't be too busy to answer your cell phone. We're going to Seattle on the first of June."
With those last words, Busy turned around where she stood and walked out of the office, leaving a bewildered Captain in her wake, red pen suspended in the air.
8D
"Joe!" Alex bellowed as he and Addison made their way to the bar. "Beer for me and a vodka martini for my fiancée, please!" Addison beamed at the man walking alongside her. It was so nice to hear him call her that without any implication of the word "fake" in there.
Joe eyed the pair curiously before obliging, setting a beer bottle on a napkin on the counter and beginning to mix the martini. "Any occasion?"
Addison took a seat at the bar and sent the blue-eyed bartender a dazzling smile. "You know how people sometimes renew their wedding vows?" Joe nodded. "Well, we just did the engagement version of that."
"Deserves a toast, don't you think?" Alex added as he joined the redhead.
"Wait, so you just renewed your engagement?" Joe asked, placing the finished martini in front of Addison. The pair nodded in excitement. "I don't get it. How do you do that?"
"He proposed to me again," Addison announced, "to get me to stop stressing about all the wedding planning."
"You two are strange," Joe commented as he beheld the sheer elation in the two surgeons' eyes. "But I'm happy for you two. First round's on the house."
"You're golden, Joe," Addison declared, shooting him yet another delighted smile. Her eyes fell on her fiancé—that made her smile widen even more. She loved that she no longer had to remind herself that they weren't really engaged. That ring on her finger now completely and utterly belonged there. "So, what should we toast to?"
Alex pretended to think for a few seconds, putting on a thoughtful face as he held his beer bottle in the air. "How about to no longer being blind idiots?"
Addison couldn't help but laugh at the truth behind his words. "How about to the no-longer-fake us?"
"I like that. To the no-longer-fake us!" Alex raised his beer and clinked it with the glass of her martini before they both took lengthy swigs from their drinks.
Three hours later found Addison and Alex in those same stools, Alex fumbling with his wallet and Addison hurriedly gathering her things. Giggles overcame the redhead as she decided—again—to drop everything and give him a very wet, very passionate kiss.
"Addie," Alex groaned against her lips. "I really have to pay if you want to continue this at home."
Addison heaved a dramatic sigh and once again began to gather her belongings. "Fine."
Five minutes later, Addison was all but tugging him out of the bar, passing a disgruntled Mark Sloan nursing a scotch neat. The bell on the door jingled as it was opened from the outside. Callie began to enter the establishment when the inebriated couple almost ran into her in their eagerness to get back to the hotel. The orthopedic surgeon finally made it inside just in time to watch Mark throw back the rest of his drink with a vengeance.
"You look happy," she said dryly, approaching the table.
"Not now, Torres," Mark growled. "Or should I call you O'Malley now?"
"Callie would work, too, Mark," she answered. "What's with you?"
"I don't want to talk about it." Callie stared at the grumpy plastic surgeon before walking off. Mark heaved a small sigh of relief when she did, but it was too soon. Within five minutes, he heard the familiar thump of glass being set on wood and looked up to see the raven-haired surgeon settling herself in the seat next to him. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
"You're moping." Callie pushed a fresh glass toward him. Mark looked down. Scotch neat. "Joe told me what your drink was," she explained, taking a sip of her mohito.
"That's still not answering me question," he grumbled as he reached gratefully for the scotch. "That was what I'm doing."
"Look, I don't know you that well, but this isn't you," Callie indicated, gesturing to his hunched form. "You're annoyingly confident usually, and the second you see Addison walk by, you wallow in self-pity."
"Hey, who said anything about Ad—" he began indignantly, only to be cut off by a pointed look from Callie.
"It's Addison. The whole hospital knows it's Addison, so stop saying it isn't."
Mark hunched over even more in agitation. "What the hell are you doing here, Callie?"
Callie took another sip of her drink. "Cheering you up."
He rolled his eyes. "You're married, Callie. I'm not going there again," he said.
Lowering her drink, Callie fixed a glare on the glum surgeon. "Not that kind of cheering, you manwhore," she hissed. "As surprising as it seems, there are other forms of support than sympathy sex."
"None that I'm interested in," Mark grumbled.
"Would you just grow up for like fifteen minutes?" Callie asked in exasperation, finally earning a stunned stare from the man. "You really need to stop pining over Addison. Didn't you, her and Derek all use to be best friends?"
"Yeah, so?"
Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. "The longer you torment yourself and her with your mooning over her, the harder it'll be to get your two best friends back."
Mark shot her a scathing look. "Sorry, but my feelings for her don't really have an on/off switch."
"Well, you're just going to have to try," Callie continued in a strong, firm voice. "Addison misses being able to come to you without worrying that you'll try to win her back. She's getting married again, Mark. Accept it and move on. You don't want to help her break another marriage, do you?" Grudgingly, he shook his head. "And you want her to be happy, don't you?" Even more reluctantly, he nodded. "If Alex is who makes her happy, wouldn't you be better off letting her go and going back to being one of her best friends?"
Mark thought about her question for a time with his jaw clenched. He knew what his answer should be, what it was going to be. But that didn't mean he appreciated having to say it. He didn't want to let her go. But he missed her. Callie's words made sense. The more he chased Addison, the farther she seemed to drift away. "You suck, Callie O'Malley." Callie merely smiled around her straw.
8D
The sunlight filtered through the tangled locks of red hair hanging in front of Addison's face. As her eyes fluttered open, a headache the size of the Space Needle began drilling away at her brain. A groan escaped her lips as she struggled to push herself off the bed. For some reason, it was much harder than usual to carry out such a simple task.
Once her feet were finally free, she plodded to the window and gleefully yanked the blinds shut, enveloping the hotel room in welcome darkness. She made her way to the bathroom carefully in the dark. The disgusting film that coated her teeth needed to be brushed off as quickly as possible, and then she really needed to find her bottle of aspirin.
Her hand searched the bathroom wall for the light switch, finally finding it after a few minutes of randomly sliding along the wallpaper. As light flooded the bathroom, Addison squeezed her eyes shut with another groan. She stood like that for some time after blindly finding her toothbrush and holding it, wishing for the headache to recede to no avail. Slowly, she opened one eye and then the other. The sight that greeted her made them continue to open until they were as wide as they could go.
She saw her reflection in the mirror. Naked. And with various hickeys scattered across her body. The sound of a gentle snore coming from the bedroom had her looking out of the bathroom in that direction.
Right. She'd slept with Alex. That was okay. They were engaged. For real.
Her eyes fell to the floor. Random articles of clothing littered the floor, starting from the door to the hotel room and meandering in a definite trail toward the bed. Tentative steps back into the bedroom and searching eyes revealed one distinct absence.
There was not a condom wrapper in sight. Addison's eyes went even wider in realization.
They hadn't used protection.
A/N: Yes, yes, I am evil. For the first time in I don't know how long, my fingers actually followed my outline! And aren't you proud of me for updating within two weeks? I'm quite proud of me. Anyway, I think you should REVIEW!