I have NO IDEA what to say. Half of me wants to put an arm over her shoulder and comfort her like I would to Izzie or Cristina (okay, maybe not Cristina, because she would slap me), and the other half of me wants to yell at her to suck it up and be grateful that at least she HAS Derek.

"I guess you guys just need time," I say finally. I wonder if I mean it.

She bites her lip slightly, looking away and blinking hard. "I guess." Her eyes are shiny, and it's totally obvious she's willing herself not to cry.

"I mean… he loves you," I say with difficulty.

She looks directly at me. "Not as much as he loves you."

"That's not true," I protest weakly.

She starts twisting that ridiculously nice diamond ring around on her finger. "I don't know. Sometimes he seems like he's trying, and then the next second he's staring at you like a puppy."

I know she's right… and so there's not really much I can say to make her feel better.

I can't help thinking that it's kind of sad that we're both so tormented by one stupid man (one stupid but perfect man) who can't make up his mind completely one way or the other.

"He doesn't want to hurt either of us," she says, reading my mind.

"Well, I guess he thought it would be easier to hurt me," I say with a little bitterness.

She raises an eyebrow. "Do I look like I'm having the time of my life, Grey?"

I can't help smiling a little.

"I really hate elevators," I say conversationally, deciding that we've had quite enough talk about Derek.

"Why?"

"I just feel like I've spent my entire life in them. Looking for my mother, and riding them up and down when I waited for her to get out of surgery. The elevators were like my only source of entertainment in the hospital. I'm just sick of them. And they provide for a lot of awkward situations." I leave out the part about making out with Derek.

"Like, for example," she pretends to think hard, "Being trapped on one with your ex-boyfriend's wife?"

"Yeah, there's that." I glance at my watch. "Oh my god, it's been like an hour."

"Great." She rolls her eyes.

"So do you hate elevators, too?" Might as well keep talking to pass the time.

She shrugs. "No, I kind of like them. They give me time to think and be alone when I have days with people in my face every second."

"That's true."

And now we've run out of things to say again. Addison is still twisting her rings around, looking thoughtful.

"Truth or dare?" I ask suddenly.

"Seriously, Grey?"

"Truth or dare?" I repeat.

She sighs. "Truth."

"Who do you hate the most in this entire hospital?" I look at her expectantly. "You have to answer. And don't say me."

"I already told you I don't hate you," she said. "I just hate what hap – never mind. Okay, who do I hate?" she mused. "Oh, god, I know. That nurse. Bianca. Wallerstein or something. She makes my life absolute hell."

"I think she's nice."

"She hid all my charts last week on purpose. I had to run around like a madwoman to find them." She looks seriously pissed, and I laugh out loud. "Okay, your turn," she says. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," I say boldly.

She pauses. "Come on. Grey, we're in an elevator. What am I supposed to dare you to do?"

I shrug. "Be creative."

"Fine. I dare you to tell me what made you think sleeping with O'Malley was a good idea."

My mouth drops open. "How do you know about that? And that is SO not a dare."

"I was being creative. Answer the question."

I sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I was feeling vulnerable. Maybe I just wanted someone to hold me. Or maybe I'm just a total bitch like everyone says. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah, actually, I do."

"Good. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"You are so boring," I tease.

"I'm old, sorry," she shrugs.

"Okay, fine, you asked for it. Who's better in bed, Derek or McSte- I mean, Mark?"

Her eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

I nod, trying to keep a straight face because it's absolutely hysterical how uncomfortable this is making her.

Oh, this is fun.