I'm baaaack.

Sorry for the delay. Exams. And then I felt it necessary to sit Shiva for team Canada for a couple of days. That's twice we've been robbed by a CONCACAF official. I'm not saying we would have won had the goal been allowed, I'm just saying it sucks that it wasn't. Also, I did feel some momentum shifting towards the end of the game. And how much would that have sucked for Landon Donovan if Canada had won in extra time? Anywho, no one knows what I'm talking about because Yanks have very little appreciation for The Beautiful Game. You like that other Football. The one where no one uses their feet. You also like that game where everyone stands around in a peculiarly shaped field waiting for a man to hit a ball with a stick. Can't remember what it's called right now. Yeah, I'm not much of a sports fan in case you couldn't tell. But I have been known to weep like a middle aged European man over "soccer".

So, here's the story:

Oh, just a warning, in case you're opposed to reading scenes of a sexual nature... Well, that's what I wrote. I'm hoping it's tasteful. Pretty much if you were okay with PRAM!SEX (that's "prom sex" for those of you who speak English) you'll be down with this. Oh, who am I kidding? As if anyone could ever be against Addisex.

Chapter Eighteen: Yes or No?

Mmm. Bad... Bad idea. What am I doing?

Addison parted her lips and let his tongue slide over hers.

I'm kissing Alex.

She wound her arms around his neck and let him pull her closer.

Okay then.

His hands were on her waist now, inside that ridiculous jacket she was still wearing. She could feel his entire body pressed against hers through the thin material of her dress.

And somehow she'd gotten backed up against a wall, which was a good thing because with Alex's mouth on hers the rocking of the boat seemed augmented and standing upright became difficult, but now she didn't have to worry about loosing her balance.

So she leaned into the wall and pulled him against her and his arms went around her waist, wrapping around her to draw her even closer. And she could feel him breathing against her. And her hands were tugging his shirt from the waistband of his pants and slipping inside to touch his warm skin. Running up his back and across his shoulders, fluttering over his ribs to his stomach where his muscles tightened under her fingers.

And he was still kissing her. Soft, searching kisses. Sliding his tongue along her bottom lip and into her mouth. Caressing, touching her tongue with his and sending shivers through her body.

And she could feel herself slipping away from reason, spiraling into a vague haze where all she felt was Alex's skin under her fingers and the scorching trail of his kisses down her throat and further... Down her chest as far as the fabric of her dress would stretch. And all she thought was,

Mmmmmm. Ahhh. Alex.

And he was sliding the jacket down to her elbows and running his hands up her bare arms and showering kisses across her shoulders.

And then he was changing his mind and tugging the jacket back up and smoothing the lapels and tilting her chin to kiss across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

And then he was resting his forehead against hers, and they were both panting hard, chests brushing with every shallow gasp. And he was turning his head and whispering into her hair, nervous, breathless words,

"If we keep going like this, I'm not going to be able to stop."

And she was pressing her fingers into the back of his neck and putting her lips against his ear and whispering,

"Don't stop."

And,

Oh God, what am I doing?

She could feel him smiling against her skin as he kissed her temple. And then he was pressing kisses to her wrists, her palms, her fingertips and never taking his eyes of her. And she could see the barely concealed hope and genuine happiness smeared all over his face and,

Oh, that can't be good.

And something about Alex smiling at her like that tugged at the corners of her own mouth and made her want to laugh and cry and climb on top of him all at once. And her heart was hammering in her chest and there was a clamoring of alarms and sirens and warning signals inside her head, screaming Run away!

Because she more than wanted this. She needed Alex. And needing something that badly could not be good. That kind of sheer, dizzying need meant she was going somewhere she really didn't want to go. Not again. Not so soon.

And then it was all mixed messages and sensory overload and a fluttering in the pit of her stomach as Alex slid his hands up her skirt and dragged her panties down her legs. And as she stepped out of them it occurred to her that in less than a year she'd gone from discovering another woman's panties in her husband's pocket to leaving her own lying around in a very public place and,

Oh my God, we're in public.

Okay, time to...

Time to...

Time to shut up thinking.

Because Alex was kneeling in front of her, pressing kisses to her thighs and stomach through the fabric of her dress and running his hands up the backs of her legs. And her knees were going weak. And her hands were splayed against the wall behind her to keep her from crashing to the floor.

And she was just about gone. And she managed to get one leg around his waist and then the other and tucked her skirt out of the way before his mouth was on her neck and he was slipping inside of her.

Her head fell back against the wall at the first warm contact and a soft sigh escaped her lips. Her eyes slid from the strings of tiny yellow lights circling the nearby railings and across the water to the red and white glow of the Seattle skyline. Her arms went around Alex's neck and her face fell against the side of his head and the lights on the horizon blurred and faded away as her eyelids fluttered shut.

Afterwards they huddled side by side on the deck, backs against the wall. Alex had one arm around her waist, drawing her against his chest, and traced lazy patterns on her shoulder with the other. She had her head against his chest, breathing in the smell of him and waiting for her legs to stop shaking. A sense of bliss, a sweet fatigue, enveloped her and as her thoughts crept back into her head the first she idea she was conscious of was,

Maybe it could feel like this all the time. This feels good and right and...

This feels like...

Oh, that can't be good.

A bubble of panic formed itself in her stomach and began to swell.

Just relax. Deep breaths. You can do this.

She sucked air into her lungs, concentrated on breathing and on fighting the rising panic inside of her, concealing the physical signs of her internal struggle, the quickening of her pulse, the fidgeting, the sweaty palms. Alex's embrace suddenly felt too tight and she squirmed involuntarily in his arms. He pulled her closer to him and took a deep breath.

Oh God, Alex. Please, don't say anything. Not yet.

Then, like a bucket of ice water down her spine,

"Did that mean something... or were you just using me?"

Her entire body tensed to the point where she knew he had felt it.

"I don't know."

Alex sighed.

"That's not good enough. You have to figure it out."

"It's hard."

"You have to do it anyway." His voice was gentle, but firm. "Even if it's hard. I'm not going to let you string me along anymore, Addison. No more mixed messages. You have to decide what you want from me, because I'm willing to take the chance that this can somehow workout, but only if you're willing to take that chance too. So 'I don't know' isn't good enough. It has to be a yes or a no."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now. Yes or no?"

The bubble of panic inside her was threatening to burst.

And then from somewhere not very far off Mark's voice called,

"Addison, are you still out here?"

And then, before she knew what she was doing, she was standing up and slipping off his jacket and mumbling,

"I have to go," ignoring the hand he extended to her and refusing to meet his eyes.

The slap of her heels on the deck split the heavy silence like gunshots and she could feel Alex's eyes on her back as she walked away. She quickened her pace but didn't get far enough fast enough to escape hearing his angry sigh or the sound of his head bashing against the wall in frustration.

(Ducks hurtling projectiles)

Don't worry. I am going somewhere with this. I'm about to go to that place that Shonda calls "full circle". In a good way. I promise.

Also, there is only one chapter left! That means a resolution is coming.

Next Time: Someone professes something... sort of. Can you guess who it is?

I will try to have the final chapter up in a couple of days

IN THE MEAN TIME: read my other fics.

I've been writing a lot of self-doubting, indecisive Addison lately, which is great for creating suspense and helping my story along, but I am starting to miss KICKASS Addison. So I wrote a oneshot. It's inspired by Addisex back in the old days (3.4. 3.5, 3.6ish) and it's pretty fraking awesome. Ther's a little (okay a lot of) porniness, a little Addison/Alex mentor/protege dynamic, and a few delightful little details like Addison's oppinion on open toed shoes sprinkled in there. It's called "Dirty and Sweet". I highly recommend it.

I also have another multichapter fic called "Fallling Apart" (crap title but give it a chance). Which is a KID!FIC (I give Derek and Addison a kid). Probably my least favorite genre ever but "Falling Apart" is actually that story that is closest to my heart. Yes, closer than "Draw the Line" even. I suggest you check it out if your into seeing characters (Addison in particular) struggle with guilt, obligation and balancing personal needs with the needs of your family. And I managed to make it really angsty without raping, maiming or killing anyone! Actually at the moment it's just seven chapters of inner monologue and backstory from different POVs, but plot is comming and I'm very excited. Fans of Derk beware.