I'm baaaaack!!!! At the one month anniversary of my hiatus too. Happy?

Thanks to all who have reviewed, you make my day.

Fork in the Road

If you need a job to give you a life, you either need a new job, or a new life.

—Richard Webber

She walks to the Chief's office, form in hand, and raises a hand to knock. But the moment of bravery she experienced suddenly fades, and she drops the hand and walks back into her office. Gathering her thoughts she tries again, but still can't bring herself to knock, and walks back.

Groaning in frustration she sinks down into a chair, tossing the papers onto her desk. One day. She has one day left. Tomorrow her contract expires, and she's either going to give Richard the contract renewal form, or say goodbye.

And being the overanalyzing freak as usual, she still can't make a decision.

Six months ago it wouldn't even have been a choice; she had been sure then, and if not for her desire to present herself as reliable when it came to contracts, she would probably be in L.A. with Naomi and Sam already (and of course, she's not going to think of Pete). But now, after she promised herself that she wouldn't change her mind, she's back to square one.

She groans again, shaking her head in disgust. Why was it always him? He was the one that had sent her scurrying across state lines in the first place; he's the one that had to pick her for sex. And he's the one that had to be so nice to her and not be interested at the same time

Really, she might as well give up now, and accept that she's always going to need a man to define who she is.

Her pager beeps, and for once she feels relieved. She won't have to make a decision just yet. There would more time to think, later. For now, there are babies to save.

But after three surgeries and she still can't decide, she thinks that maybe she needs some help. Callie and Miranda would probably want her to stay, but well, listening to them would probably be better than hearing Richard say "It's all up to you, Addie" one more time.

So at lunch she tells them, as she plops down on a chair.

"My contract expires tomorrow," she says, "And I don't know if I should renew it or not."

Miranda looks up from the medical journal she had been reading, and fixes her with a look. "Nice to see you too, Sunshine," she says, sarcasm dripping, "Did you have a question now?"

She of course ignores this, and turns to Callie instead, "Callie?"

Callie doesn't even have time to look at her, so intense is the staring contest between her and back of Izzie Stevens's head.

"Callie!"

"What?" she turns around, and, of course thinking that they had been talking about her problems and her life, says, "He's still sitting with her. After he told me, and I took him back. After—

"Callie," she interrupts, "My contract?"

"Huh?"

She rolls her eyes. "No, do continue, Callie," she says, "Because obviously me leaving Seattle is less important than O'Malley's affair half a year ago."

"You're leaving?"

"Addison," Miranda says, shooting her another glare, "Be nice," and then, to Callie, "She wants us to help her decide whether or not she should leave."

Callie sits there and says nothing, but has the decency to turn the teeniest shade of red.

"Personally, I don't see why you're so conflicted," Miranda says, turning back to her, "Seattle Grace is one of the best hospitals in the West Coast. The longer you stay here, the better your reputation becomes."

She sighs, and reminds herself that Miranda actually is more than just a colleague, and cares about her personal as well as professional needs. "But Miranda, the rain," she says, gesturing vaguely at the ceiling, "I hate the rain. And the men. Mark and Derek and Karev—

"Uh-uh," Miranda cuts her off before she could say more, frowning, "We are not talking about Karev. Bad enough that you slept with one of my interns, but now you're using a one-night stand as an excuse to leave?"

"But it's not―" she stops before she can spill the whole fiasco with Karev out, but Callie catches the words anyway.

"But it's not what?" She's not talking, but the silence only seems to encourage Callie more, "What's going on between you and Karev?"

"Nothing," she replies, and winces, realizing that she had spoken too quickly.

"Uh-huh," Miranda says, leaning forward, eyes narrowing, "Tell me."

She groans, but stands up instead. "You two," she says, glaring at them both, "Are not helping. You," she says to Bailey, "Go order someone besides your boss around. And you―" she says to Callie, "Don't you have the back of someone's head to stare at?"

She leaves, but not before ducking as a carrot suddenly comes whizzing over her head.

He's not sure how he ended up standing at the doorway of her office.

Really, there's no reason.

But hell, Torres just flicked a carrot at her in the cafeteria, so he figures that it's enough of a reason to end up staring at her shuffling papers.

When she notices him, though, all the reason leaves, and all he's left with is an incredible sense of embarrassment and stupidity.

She smiles and beckons him in, but he still feels the heat in his cheeks, and can't figure out what to say.

"Want to get something to eat?" the words get out as if his mouth had functioned without utilizing his brain, and really, he can't blame the surprised look on her face, because not only is it two o'clock and he knows she just ate lunch, but didn't she just tell him two days ago that she wasn't interested?

But the words were out, so he plows on, "Not right now," he stutters slightly, mentally kicking himself for sounding like Bambi, "Later. When your shift ends. And I know you're not interested," he rushes ahead as her smile fades, "it's just a friend thing. No strings."

She relaxes, but shakes her head, though he likes to delude himself in thinking that he can see a trace of regret. "I'd love to…but I have a decision to make tonight," she nods at the papers on her desk.

He steps forward and takes one of them from her, and it takes only about two seconds for him to recognize that it's a contract renewal form. Confused now, he looks up at her, frowning. "What decision do you need to make about renewing your contract?"

She sighs, and takes off her glasses. "That's the problem," comes the reply, "I don't know whether I should renew it or not."

He must have looked as incredulous as he feels, because she flushes, and says, "Seattle Grace is a great hospital, but there's a lot of things I have to deal with here. A lot of baggage―" and he flinches slightly at this, knowing that he's part of the baggage, "that I need to move on from. So I can't really figure out what to do."

Her eyes seem to search his, and he knows that this is the part where he acts like the friend that he's supposed to be and convince her to stay. But for some odd reason, just when he wants the words to come, they can't.

Because he looks at the hope in her eyes, and suddenly he's back to six months ago, Ava's eyes boring into his. And it hurts, to remember what had happened last time.

It hurts too much, so he snaps back the spine he had grown miraculously a couple of minutes ago, and retreats back into his little castle of callousness and insensitivity. "Well, maybe you should go," Ignoring the look of surprise on her face, he continues, "I mean, we'll miss you and all that, but it might be good, you know? To get away from all this crap."

Her face is changing, going fifty miles per hour from expectancy, to surprise, and finally settling on disbelief. He cringes slightly, expecting her pull an Ava.

But she doesn't and he realizes that he's forgotten that she and Ava are actually not that alike. He didn't create her and pick out a face for her, and she doesn't throw a fit when he calls her the wrong name. She doesn't have a kid, probably never even been pregnant. She's not Ava, she's Addison. Best neonatal surgeon in the country, and kick-ass professional. His boss.

So instead of saying "Did you sniff too much glue as a child?" like he half expects her to, she simply nods, and smiles at him as if that had been the most worthy piece of advice she had ever gotten.

So he tells himself that it's what's best, for both of them. She would leave and be happy, he would find someone else to screw, and everyone would be fine.

But of course, that theory only holds well if he doesn't think about how or why all of a sudden he feels like crap.

You know, I keep an ax beside my bed, just in case anyone's naughty and doesn't review.

Just saying.