"What Else?"
by Bleu
He told himself when he saw her standing at the nurse's station, bent over a chart but not reading it due to the fact her fingers were scrubbing at her eyes, he sidled up next to her because he was sick of Sloane's bullshit.
Not because he hadn't actually spoken to her in a week.
Not because she didn't even spare him a glance anymore and he forgot the exact color of her eyes.
Not because she hadn't smiled in a very, very long time.
None of that even crossed his mind.
He was sick of Sloane's bullshit. Plain and simple.
What else?
"Hey." He offers stupidly, pretending to read the chart in front of him.
"Does Sloane need a consult?" she asks, ceasing the tense eye rubbing but not looking at him.
"Uh, no." he finds words a little difficult to come by. "He's doing a follow up. No action there." He adds, trying to keep in character. It works, because she only snorts.
"Of course not. No action, No Karev, right?" she comments bitterly, still not looking at him and collecting the contents of the chart before her in a move that looks dismissive. In a rush of worry he chalks up to desire for a break from being Sloane's coffee bitch, he slaps his chart shut.
"Got something?" he asks, and she raises an eyebrow, but at least looks at him.
"Yes. A vagina." She returns, and he realizes this is going to be difficult.
"Well, you'll need an intern to handle that, won't you?" he presses, and wonders the hell why, following her when she stalks off, her heels decisively clicking on the floor. She turns mid-step and flashes him an "I told you so" grin he's not sure what he wants to do with. He knows he'd like to wipe it off her face, but he's not entirely sure how…
"Sloane giving you Hell?" she asks, tease tugging at her voice that was still quite cutting. He rolled his eyes.
"Hell? No way. The guy's a genius. But he's not running off to surgery, right now, unlike you." He hopes this sounds convincing breathless, because he has to quicken his step to keep up with her. Her legs are long enough that even in heels, she gets places fast.
And apparently, stops even faster.
Before he could adjust his speed, she came to a screeching halt before the elevators, and as a result, he crashed full into her. He had been moving fast, and that plus the weight of his body compared to that of hers sends them both sprawling, a tidal wave of charts, pens, ID badges, one of her shoes, and a lot of long, confused, groping limbs.
"God, Karev!" she snaps with a slight shove, attempting to disentangle as a crowd gathers. He blinks rapidly, trying to assess how the hell he had suddenly ended up on the floor in a rather provocative position atop Addison Montgomery, when a strange sensation clenches at his stomach. He chalks it up to embarrassment.
What else?
Though, for a moment, all he can do is stare down at her confused, flushed face, surrounded by tousled red hair.
"S-sorry." He mutters, rolling off of her finally at the behest of her struggling beneath him that was getting a little…personal. Once he is safely off of her, sitting on the floor like a child after a tantrum, she brings herself to her knees next to him.
"Are you okay?" she asks, worriedly, rubbing her own elbow and attempting to stand. He tries to respond but before the word can leave his lips, her other heel snaps and she's back on his lap in an ungraceful "Agh!"
Instead of focusing on his newest injury (her elbow made hard, direct contact with his stomach), he finds himself protectively closing his hands around her waist.
He tells himself it's to steady her so she doesn't harm anywhere else more sensitive.
What else?
"Are you all right?" he asks gruffly, clearing his throat a bit and pulling her gently to the side so he can look at her face. Her hair is an explosive swirl around it, but with a few quick hand motions, her startled, embarrassed, and…something-he-can't-quite-place-eyes are revealed to him.
"Um, yeah." She says finally, holding his gaze as she drags out the last word a little longer than normal.
A very strange moment passes as they sit in this position on the floor before a hand reaches down and a male voice asks, "Here, let me help you."
Alex follows the arm to the navy scrub to the girly hair and sees Shepherd. He sneers a bit, on instinct, but releases his grip on Addison's waist so she can safely stand.
"Thanks," she murmurs as she stands, but looks back down at Alex queerly. He returns the look, but jostles himself to his feet.
"You okay, Addison? Karev?" Shepherd seems concerned. Addison purses her lips in a fashion they both recognized as her signal of discomfort. Shepherd frowns, and ticks his eyes between them.
Alex speaks before he can comment. "We're good, right?" he looks to Addison, imploring her to school her features a little better.
She gets the message.
"Yes, fine." She bends down quickly, picking up the charts. Alex takes a breath, a beat passes, and then he bends to help. Shepherd saunters off, eyebrows raised.
As the crowd disperses, Alex and Addison engage in a silent, mad scramble to collect their strewn belongings.
Only when they both simultaneously reach for her ID badge and their hands accidentally (what else?) close around each other's does either of them speak.
"Uh, here." He lets go, slowly, as they both stand, eyes locked. His eyes are a bit squinted in confusion, and hers are wide with it. They hold this gaze for a moment, and her mouth opens slightly as if to speak.
"…Dr. Sloane." She says finally, and Alex's face contorts.
"What the…" but then he knows.
"Karev!" Sloane barks, emerging from behind him. "Done body-tackling the female staff?" he asks, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes somewhat suspicious in their glare. Alex looks from Addison to Sloane and back.
"Uh…" what the hell had happened to his command—however tenuous—of the English language?
Head trauma during the fall. Must've bounced off the tile.
What else?
Sloane saves Alex the trouble of speaking.
"Addie," he says deliberately, sidestepping Alex to attend to Addison.
"What?" she asks, alarmed. He touches the growing red spot on her lab coat at her elbow. She follows his eyes, as does Alex, and her mouth forms a surprised O shape.
"Oh, jeez!" she struggles to get out of the coat, but Sloane smoothly eases it from her shoulders, revealing a black scoop-necked top and matching skirt. Alex swallows, with difficulty.
"Let me take care of that." Sloane says, pushing her sleeve up for her.
Addison's eyes, for some reason, go to Alex.
"Actually, Karev and I were about to go to surgery. It's not too serio—ouch!" she exclaims with a whimper that makes Alex grit his teeth, when Sloane reveals the wound and presses around it.
"Well you don't need stitches, but at least let me clean it. You can't do a good job from your angle." Sloane decides for her, taking her other arm and easing her towards the empty exam room. Alex stands silent, watching, and as Sloane turns to follow Addison, he glances to Alex.
"Oh, by the way…I didn't get my cappuccino." He tells him with a glare that was less about caffeinated beverages and more…territorial.
Alex only smirks and nods.
When Sloane and Addison disappear into the exam room and Alex stalks off scowling, he blames the heated irritation flushing his cheeks on Sloane's condescension, and the tight clench in his stomach as residual pain from Addison's elbow.
After all, what else could it be
I'm not going to lie. I pretty much loved tonight's episode (Episode 4, not sure of the title?). Everyone was just…great. And I got inspired to write something fun and pointless after I begrudgingly finished a cursed philosophy paper about Kant.
But about what would I write? I quite didn't know, until I watched a clip of the last exchange between Addison and Alex. Then I knew. (devilish smile)
This was a lot of fun to write, total guilty pleasure. Hope you enjoyed it, too! xo Bleu