I am, actually, still alive. This is evidence. It's not one of my favorites, but it was fun to plan out.
Pre-Maddison Maddison. I will probably revise and repost this once my inspiration pool replenishes.
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy doesn't belong to me. I hate unintentional rhyme.
It was one of those days. Addison Montgomery rested her head against the wall. Mark Sloan stood beside her in the same position.
"Did yours die too?" she asked. He nodded. "So that's four already."
"Deaths come in threes and sevens," he muttered, his eyes determinately shut.
"Three more before the day's over."
"Glad to know you can count." She sent him a glare, but he didn't see it. Mostly out of not being able to see.
"Derek looks stressed." He was stalking in and out of an empty room, seemingly in an argument with the surgical resident.
"His is still breathing," Mark said in explanation. "But the resident's superstitious and thinks they should put off the surgery until tomorrow."
"She'll die."
"He knows. Well, Derek knows." An obscenely cheerful voice reached Addison's ears and she groaned. "It's too early for her."
"What's going on here? Come on, heads up! The day hasn't even started yet and you're drooping already. Here." The tall blonde handed both of them a steaming cup.
"Oh thank God," Mark sighed. "I was hoping that they'd fixed the coff—What is this?"
"It's a tradition here." Addison distinctly heard him say "so what I just poured into my mouth was tradition."
She elbowed him in the side, but if their advisor noticed she didn't let on. "Every time there's a day like this, we pass out the hot chocolate." Whatever the surgeon was hoping for her interns, it was not the utter look of despair on their faces.
"Oh my, after swallowing that burning hot Not Coffee, I feel like a new man." He deadpanned. The red head grinned fixedly at her cup lid.
"Hey. Don't diss the juju, drink it. I'll be seeing you guys in your rounds in an hour. Perk up!" Addison waited until she was out of earshot, and then a little longer.
"Did she just—"
"Yes. Yes, she just used the word 'juju.'" He scowled at his non-caffeinated drink. "I hate that word."
"So do I."
"Cary says juju."
"That's why I hate her."
"It's not because hers is still alive, is it?"
"Why would you ever think that?" Mark eyed her hot chocolate for a second.
"Are you gonna drink yours?"
"Nope." She passed it to his free hand.
"Didn't even have to ask."
"Nope." He knocked his forehead against hers.
"Hey. Derek's will live."
"Course she will. He's a doer. We're not." She knocked back.
"You just used the word we." She had closed her eyes and was trying hard not to fall asleep. It was made infinitely harder now that she was actually trying.
"Sure. Whatever."
"You never use the word we."
"Mark. You're my friend. Of course I use we."
"Oh, so we're friends now."
"Mark. Drink your juju."
-end-
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