Author's Note: I found a prompt and I ran with it. This is set somewhere in season 2 while Addison and Derek are still trying, but Mark also works at Seattle Grace. Enjoy this ridiculous fic!
The surgeons of Seattle Grace Mercy West had gotten complacent. At least, that was the thought process of the Chief of Surgery, Richard Webber, who had demanded Owen Hunt lead both the attendings and residents in a new Trauma Team Challenge.
"This is ridiculous," Derek huffed to Miranda as he made his way to the trauma training, "None of the attendings need trauma training. And I heard Hunt is going to make this a competition between surgical teams. Like that will help boost morale."
"Afraid I'm going to kick your ass, Shepherd?" Addison teased, breezing by Derek and Bailey on her way up to trauma training and smiling good naturedly over her shoulder.
"And why would I be afraid of that?" Derek asked, voice flat and annoyed with Addison's antics.
Addison turned around, "Didn't you hear? You and I are team captains today." And with one long smirk over her shoulder at Derek's surprised expression, she whisked away towards the ambulance bay for Hunt's training session.
"Alright," Owen began, gazing out at the two teams of doctors he had assembled for his trauma training challenge, "Each team will have the same challenge, and to be fair to our team captains," here he looked pointedly at Addison and Derek, "the trauma patient body dummy, you are receiving is a 30 week pregnant mother with a brain injury. When you finish each section of the exam on your patient I will check your work. If, at any point, you hear any distraction, keep moving and do not stop surgery, they are here to distract you and train you to be alert in triage. One the count of three, you may begin. One…Two..Three!"
Each team of doctors began their tasks. The speed at which Derek and Addison move, the estranged but steadily repairing couple destined to beat each other, is remarkably fast.
The teams made it through several steps of the procedure and had thus far ignored all the distractions. There were airhorns and ambulance lights, even emergency protocols of other patients who may take precedence. Both Shepherds remained focused, each neck and neck towards the end of their treatment. Both were so focused on the task at hand, they did not notice Richard Webber walk into the room and bring a delicate red whistle to his mouth.
"PHWEEEEEEEEEE!"
Abruptly, as though both Shepherds had been stung, they each jumped away from their patients with alarming speeds. Both of their hands shot into the air, in a position that one could only describe as being held at gunpoint, with their hands where everyone could see them. In their jumping away from the body dummies, they quickly turned towards Webber and the source of the whistle, their shoulders tense and their eyes frightened.
"I didn't do anything!" Addison yelled as she turned.
"Not me!" Derek shouted at the same time.
All of the residents and attendings on their teams looked at each other in bewilderment. Why, when both Shepherds had persevered through so many other obstacles, had one plastic red whistle made them stop their fake procedures?
"Drs. Shepherd!" Hunt yelled at their abrupt stop, "Why are you stopping?"
However, Addison and Derek didn't seem to hear him, staring solely at Rochard Webber and his whistle.
"Drs. Shepherd?" Webber questioned calmly, staring at their still forms, "Why did you stop?"
"Richard…" Addsion began slowly.
"You blew the whistle." Derek finished her sentence.
"The whistle?" Richard asked confused, "Why would you stop for one silly little whistle?"
"Chief!" Mark shouts and comes busting into the room, nearly tripling over himself, out of breath with his forehead glistening with the beginning of perspiration, "I'm here Chief! And fully clothed!"
Richard holds a hand to the bridge of his nose, as if concentrating very hard on not getting a headache, "And why Dr. Sloan, would you not be fully clothed?"
"Chief…" Mark begins slowly, gesturing with his chin as his hands have taken on the same position as Addison and Derek's, "You blew the whistle. You remember…" he lowers his voice, glancing at the teams of doctors surrounding them before whispering quite loudly, "The…Shepherds Sex Whistle?"
"Hey!" Derek yells, insulted at the insinuation, "That is not the Shepherds sex whistle!"
"Yeah!" Addison joins in, horrified by the whistles nickname, "That's just the regular sex whistle!"
"Yes!" Derek agrees indignantly, in a surprising show of support for his wife, "Why else would you come running if it was specifically the Shepherds sex whistle?"
Mark rolls his eyes, hands not leaving their up-right position as he prepares himself for another interrogation. He sighs loudly, but concedes, "Ok fine, technically it is just the 'sex whistle', but becasue you two are the most frequent perpetrators of the crime," here he pauses and makes eyes at both Addison and Derek, "everyone in New York unofficially termed it the 'Shepherds Sex Whistle.' Almost every time you heard the whistle being blown, you knew Addison and Derek were caught doing it somewhere. They were worse than me!"
"Worse than Mcsteamy?" Cristina whispered incredulously to Meredith from their place next to the practice dummies, "You and McDreamy must have been wild."
"That's ridiculous!" Derek cries.
Addison, at least, has the decency to look sheepish, turning slightly red and staring resolutely at the ground.
"Well…" she trails off, eyes slowly moving away from the ground and towards her estranged husband.
"Oh, not you too," Derek groans, "Addison! You cannot take their side in this. We did not get caught that many times to deserve naming the whistle."
"Oh you totally did," Mark chimes in, pointing a finger between the two of them, "You two were worse than me, and that is saying something."
Even Richard concedes with a loud sigh, "The two of you were…spirited. In fact there was a time I could probably describe Derek naked better than my wife."
"That's not fair!" Addison chimes in, seemingly back on Derek's side. He gestures to her wildly, as if to say 'see she disagrees!', before she continues, "We were newly weds! Red-blooded 27 year-old newly wed residents! It was hard to adjust from honeymoon bliss back to long working hours!"
Derek slaps his hand to his forehead in exasperation. That was not the argument he wanted her to make.
But Addison's still on a roll, "Plus we worked very hard as residents! Richard, you always used to say that Derek and I were machines!"
"Yeah," Mark sniggers, "In more ways than one."
Derek glares at him, one so fierce it could probably kill a lesser man.
But Mark Sloan is not a lesser man. "Come on, that was a compliment! Your recovery time and stamina was incredible in the mid to late 90s."
"Oh my god," Derek mutters horrified that not only are his best friend and boss commenting on his sexual stamina, but that they've decided to do it in front of all his colleagues.
Addison, however, has the nerve to laugh.
Derek turns on her, "Oh you think this is funny? I don't remember you laughing this much last time we had the whistle blown at us when you offered to let me try—"
"No!" Addison shouts horrified, interrupting Derek's train of thought, "Do not finish that sentence!"
"Try what?" Karev dares to ask snarkily from his place among the group of the residents, who despite the trauma challenge, have now given up on tending to their fake patients.
"Nothing," Addison and Derek shoot back, once again in sync with each other.
"Deny it all you want," Mark chimes in again, "But that's the Shepherds sex whistle. The two of you were like rabbits, nowhere was safe. Not the locker rooms…"
"The on-call rooms," Richard chimes in.
"Yankee stadium," Mark continues.
"Adele's and my 25th anniversary party."
"The 33rd medical awards ceremony."
"Oh that was bad," Richard confirms.
Mark looks at them knowingly, "Didn't Addison have to accept her award in a partially ripped dress?"
"It was a surprise award!" Addison defends.
"And she looked great," Derek offers, trying to win Addie's support back to their defense of the whistle's name, "There weren't any visible marks on her neck or anything."
"I'm sorry," Dr. Hunt interrupts, "As riveting as it is to hear that Derek and Addison have such a healthy sex life that they have an anti-sex whistle named after them, the two of you as department heads should know that you should not have stepped away from this exercise for any reason."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Hunt." Addsion apologizes. Derek stays arrogantly silent.
"We…" Addison looks to Derek for support, who offers none, "We promise to not stop with a real patient, or–," she continues at Hunt's stern look, "this very real and important trauma training challenge for the purpose of the Shepherds sex whistle."
Derek makes an indignant noise next to her, "Don't give in and call it that!"
Addison turns to him, "Honey I think we may have to admit that we need a sex whistle. Or needed a sex whistle." Her eyes trail downward at the reminder of the boring sex they had two weeks ago, a reminder that stunk up their sex record, even if they tried to repair it with creative shower sex.
"Hey," Derek whispers, pulling her aside from the training challenge and touching her face with his newly ungloved hand, "We can..", it looks like it pains him to admit, "We can work our way up to whistle."
"I know," he continues, "I know things aren't exactly stellar between us right now, with what happened in New York–"
"Don't." she stops him with a well-placed hand, voice sounding pained, stomach curdling with guilt, "Please don't bring it up again."
"Ok," he concedes uncharacteristically, "But…if we're gonna try, I think the goal of needing a whistle again is a good place to start."
"Really?" Addison asks, eyes alight. It's been weeks and weeks of trying with Derek, but mostly of her trying and him, going through motions with wayward glances between her and Meredith Grey, glances that seem powerful enough to shatter each of their relationships with him.
Derek smiles back, "Really."
Addison's relief seems to burst through her smile.
"So…" Derek continues, his ungloved hand removing her scrub cap and pushing a wayward strand behind her ear, "What if right now we abandon this dumb truma trianing challenge to find an on-call room and go show Richard why he needed the Shepherd sex whistle in the first place?"
Addison smiles anew, something bashful mixed with something wicked that evolves into more of smirk as she reaches for his other hand to lead him towards the stairs.
"Well, we certainly can't let anyone else rename the whistle."
Author's Note: Told y'all Greys had inspired me recently. Many more ridiculous fics like this to come! Read, review, comment, kudos, they all make my day :)
