Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's Anatomy.
A/N: You know, they should give me a medal for being the best procrastinator on the planet. Seriously, they should. Okay, I'm going to pay for making Addison and Callie roommates…I'm going to pay in spades. I have no idea why I did that, it just came to me, and then I wrote it, and then I kind of liked it, so I kept it. But, seriously, I have no idea where that is going. However, I do know what is happening next in this story. It may be a bit soon, because I know before I was all "eventually addek because they won't get together really fast", but, well, it's going really slowly at the moment, and so…well…you'll see.
Let's Play Pretend
It was a boring day at work, and there was no other way to describe it. Had Addison been interested in hospital gossip, it would have been a quite interesting day (something about Christina and Preston being caught naked in the on call room…again), but since she made it a rule to participate as little as possible in gossip, the day was boring. She had no surgeries scheduled, since her patient went into labor during the middle of the night and the c-section was done by the attending that was on call, and all of the other mothers and their children seemed to be doing well.
"You know, you don't have to be exclusively on my service, if you don't want," Addison informed Izzie, as they both sat in the NICU filling out paperwork.
"I know," Izzie replied without looking up from the form she was filling out. "But since I'm not allowed into surgeries, yours or others, until I deposit the check and my psychiatrist gives the hospital the 'okay', this is as good as anything else I could be doing."
Addison stared at Izzie. "You still haven't deposited the check?" she asked, slightly exasperated. She had allowed Izzie to scrub into her surgeries since the beginning, so it wasn't until two weeks ago, when she had wanted for Izzie to help her during an emergency surgery, that she had learned that Izzie wasn't allowed to until she deposited the check. "Well, at least you could scrub into a surgery, even if you couldn't participate," Addison reminded Izzie.
"As if there is anybody else who would even let me scrub in," Izzie said matter-of-factly, and Addison cringed, the point taken.
"Maybe if you deposited the check…" Addison began, but stopped when she received a glare from Stevens. Some subjects were better left alone and, since Addison knew of several subjects that she would avoid like the plague if Izzie brought them up, Addison dropped the subject, and both went back to their (seemingly interminable) paperwork.
After a long period of silence, Addison had finally finished the stack of paperwork she had to fill out. She stood up and walked to one of the incubators, looking down at the premature baby boy. "How is it that we get from there to here?" she whispered. "How is it that everything becomes so complicated?"
"Hmmm?" Izzie questioned, unable to hear what Addison had said.
"Nothing," Addison said, and, with one last look at the premature baby, sat back down in her chair. She flipped open a furniture catalogue, and looked at lamps. Her house, while not completely furnished, was getting close, and was definitely at the point where she could move into it. Actually, it had been at that point for a few weeks now, but she hadn't wanted to move in until it looked more like home. Besides, it was rather big, empty, and dark since she was the only one living there, and it was only partially furnished and had not nearly enough lights.
"I bought a house," Addison said finally, noticing Izzie's curious glances at her catalogue.
Izzie's head shot up, and she didn't bother to pretend she hadn't been trying to figure out what kind of catalogue Addison was reading. "Really?" she asked.
"Really," Addison replied. "Actually, I've had it for almost two months now, though I don't live in it yet."
"Really?" Izzie asked again, her voice expressing her curiosity, even though her body language did not.
"You're repeating yourself," Addison pointed out.
"Sorry," Izzie apologized. "It's just that, well, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but normally this kind of news gets around the hospital really quickly. The hospital practically lives on gossip, and it's actually kind of shocking that I haven't heard this before." Izzie tilted her head as she thought about what she had just said. "I don't mean it like that…" she began, but Addison just shook her head with a smile.
It was true, what Izzie said about the hospital, and, though Addison had only told three people before Izzie, she herself was a little shocked to realize that the news hadn't gotten around somehow. Gossip always manages to get around somehow, no matter how hard you guard the secret. "Well, not that many people know, and my friends tend to be good at keeping secrets," Addison said.
Izzie looked at Addison curiously. "In that case, it was probably a bad idea to tell me," Izzie said, only half joking. "I can keep secrets if I have to, but I'm a terrible gossip."
Addison shrugged. "It's not a secret," she replied, her voice even. "Not really, anyhow; I try not to tell anybody my secrets."
"Dr. Montgomery?" Izzie asked tentatively, "It's good to have somebody to talk to, sometimes, to have somebody to tell your secrets to."
Addison arched her eyebrows. "And I'm sure you go around telling everybody your secrets?" she questioned, her tone of voice more aggressive than she had intended. Izzie looked down at her paperwork, upset, and Addison felt guilty. "No, you're right, I guess, and if you have that, I'm happy for you. My oldest friends are in New York and, even if they were here, they have bigger problems to face at the moment. Besides, I'm okay…I'm good, even."
Izzie smiled, slightly unconvinced. "Me too," she said, and they sat in silence, both hoping that they were not lying.
"I just need a place to think, someplace quiet."
"Is that why you do paperwork in the NICU?" Izzie questioned softly.
Addison sighed. "Yeah," she said, internally berating herself for telling so much information to an intern—especially an intern who was friends with Meredith Grey. Biting her lip, Addison reminded herself sternly that she didn't hate Meredith, which, to her astonishment, was true. Before, even when she had claimed to not hate Meredith, it had been a lie, albeit a convincingly told one. Maybe time and contemplation do heal wounds, she thought.
"Me too," Izzie said, her voice almost a whisper. Both sat there, lost in their own thoughts, until Addison's pager went off. A quick glance told Addison that it wasn't urgent, so she got up slowly, relishing what could easily be her last moments of quiet until she went home tonight. Just as Addison was about to close the door behind her, she heard Izzie call to her. "If it's not a secret, am I allowed to tell people about the house?"
For some reason she could not explain, this caused Addison to laugh. "Yes, if you want to," Addison said, before laughing more. She was vaguely aware of the worried look on Dr. Stevens' face, but it felt so good to laugh (even if she wasn't sure what her reason for laughter was) that she waited for it to die naturally. When she was calm, she hurried off to find Bailey, who had paged her, aware that she had taken much longer to answer than she normally did.
When Addison found Bailey, she expected to be given a case, but instead was asked for a consult. Addison's work was done within a half hour, and she was left with nothing to do once again. Feeling slightly guilty that she wanted to perform surgery instead of feeling happy that her patients were doing well, Addison decided to go watch Burke's surgery.
Addison sat down alone in the back of the room; there weren't many people watching this surgery, because almost everybody else was busy. A few minutes later Derek and Meredith entered, holding hands and looking happy. They both glanced at her, and then took seats on the other side of the room in the front because, even though she tried to act civil and as if their actions didn't bother her, contact with Derek was painful for both of them, and was just plain awkward with Meredith.
Addison heard the door open, and turned to see who was entering. She cursed under her breath when she saw it was Mark, though they had been getting on much more civilly the past few weeks. Mark sat down next to her, and they sat in silence for a few minutes. "It's amazing, isn't it?" Mark said, referring to the surgery which, so far, was going successfully.
"Yeah," she said dismissively, hoping he would get the hint that she didn't want to talk. He seemed to, because they sat in silence for a while, the only noise in the room being Meredith and Derek's incessant chatter.
"Are you free tonight?" Mark asked.
"Yeah," Addison said absently, not processing what he had asked until several seconds later. "Wait, what?" she demanded.
"Do you want to come to dinner tonight?" he said.
"I'm sorry, Mark, I just can't," Addison told him, looking him in the eye.
"Please, Addie? It wouldn't have to be anything big, just dinner."
Addison saw Derek look at Meredith the way he used to look at her, as he pulled her closer and kissed her. Addison forced herself to look away; she was almost morbidly fascinated, despite the pain she experienced whenever she saw them like this. Actually, it was probably not in spite of the pain, but because of the pain—some small, irrational part of her believed that she deserved to be hurt, after what she had done to Derek.
Reminding herself that she was moving on, that she was getting over Derek, Addison looked at Mark. "Fine," she told him. "I'll have dinner with you, but you're picking the restaurant and you're providing transportation." Mark smiled at her, and Addison knew she was doing the wrong thing. It wasn't fair to her, and it certainly wasn't fair to Mark, for her to go to dinner with him. Though she tried to deny it, the only reason she agreed to go to dinner with Mark was because her heart ached from watching Derek with Meredith, and because a small part of her hoped that this action would upset Derek. It was payback in a sick, twisted way.
Throughout the whole day, Addison tried not to think about her impending dinner with Mark, an event which she absolutely refused to call a "date." When her day was over, she went back to the hotel to change into something more appropriate (since all of her clothing was still located at the hotel), and met Mark in the lobby. Mark drove her to dinner at a really nice restaurant, and they spent the evening reminiscing about people and places they knew in New York.
Addison was surprised by how caring and polite Mark had been all night, but she knew she really shouldn't be. After all, she knew from years of experience that he really was a good person. As they walked to their car in the parking lot, Addison smiled genuinely at Mark, both painfully aware that this was the first time she had smiled at him genuinely since before she slept with him in New York.
"Thank you, Mark," she told him. "This was really nice."
"It was," he replied, looking at her, and taking in how beautiful she was. "I missed doing things like this."
"I missed it too," Addison said, and she meant it. Mark could be a jerk, and she couldn't understand why he acted so abrasive and rude so much of the time, but, deep down, he cared. He had been a good friend for so many years; Addison couldn't bring herself to throw that away simply because she was mad at him.
Mark leaned toward Addison and kissed her, but she pulled away after a few seconds. "Mark, I can't…" Addison whispered.
"Addie…" Mark began, but was cut off.
"I can't, I just can't," she pleaded, hating how pathetic she sounded.
Mark sighed and opened the car door for Addison. "Okay," he said with a sigh.
Getting into the car, Addison tried to calm herself down, but didn't really succeed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Addison repeated over and over, unaware that tears were silently streaming down her face. "I can't…I don't know why…I just can't…oh, God, Mark, I'm so sorry."
Mark looked at Addison, watched her struggling with herself, and felt his heart break all over. "No, I'm sorry, Addie," he told her, and she looked at him incredulously. "I shouldn't have done that." He reached over and held her hand as she, remarkably quickly, regained composure. This was supposed to be his chance with Addison, Mark thought, this was supposed to be the time where he got to go off happily with the woman he loved. He hated to believe that they could never be together, hated to believe that she didn't want to be with him, but hated to see her upset even more, and so he apologized.
"We're both sorry," she said, now laughing slightly because, sometimes, when you're in an awkward situation you react in inappropriate ways. After a moment he started laughing as well, for the same reason. "Mark, we're still friends, right?" she asked.
"Yeah, I guess," he said, putting all of his energy into not sounding tired and sad.
"Good." They sat in the car, both thinking, until Mark finally decided to break the silence.
"So, are we going back to the hotel? Or are we going to some mysterious house that I didn't know you owned until earlier today?" Mark asked with a twinkle in his eyes. Addison covered her face with her hands, pretending to be embarrassed.
"We're going to the hotel. Did the nurses tell you about the house? You can't believe everything you hear in the hospital, Mark," Addison snickered.
"Not the nurses," he responded. "Actually, I learned it from a source much more reliable than the hospital gossips."
"Who?" she demanded.
"Dr. Karev told me when he came back with my lunch. He claimed to have just learned about it from your intern, Izzie Stevens. When he brought my lunch he told me that he knew something that I didn't, which could be new hospital gossip, but he wouldn't tell me unless I let him scrub in to the surgery I did today. The funny thing is that, well, I was actually going to let him scrub in anyhow…" Mark laughed.
Addison laughed as well, though she couldn't let the fact that Alex had brought Mark lunch pass, and she berated him in a much more serious tone about his treatment of interns. Mark shrugged nonchalantly, but Addison hoped that if she told him enough times his behavior was not acceptable, eventually he would change. Pretty soon they were at the hotel, and Addison once again thanked Mark for the evening, both willfully forgetting the incident in the parking lot.
They parted in the lobby; Addison wanted to go back to her room, and Mark wanted to get a drink. When Addison got up into her room, suddenly she realized she couldn't bear to stay there, not one minute longer. Impulsively she packed all of her clothes and belongings into the two suitcases she had brought to the hotel, and went downstairs to check out. The man working at the check out desk was very surprised that she was deciding to check out so suddenly, and asked her if anything had happened to upset her, or if the service had not been up to standards. Addison hurriedly assured him that her stay was great, that nothing had upset her, and that the only reason she was checking out was because she had bought a house.
Addison went back upstairs so that she could get her bags (while her car was pulled around from the parking lot), and she felt oddly glad to get out of what had been her house for the past six months. Before she left the hotel, Addison stood for a moment by the door of the hotel. Could she really do it? Could she really move on? She knew she had to move out of the hotel, and she knew that it was long past time for her to do so, but it was still hard.
Callie startled her out of her contemplative state. "Hey," Callie greeted her. "Are you actually moving? I mean, I heard the rumors, but I didn't know that they were actually true."
"They're true…I think," Addison said, as she looked around the hotel. She had been living in the hotel since two nights after Prom, and it was now early December. She had spent countless hours here, and so much had changed about her, yet so little. "No, not I think," she said quickly, in part so she wouldn't sound pathetic, and in part because it was what she needed to hear. "I know I'm moving. I wasn't going to, not yet, anyhow, but suddenly the thought of staying another night in this hotel became repulsive."
Callie surveyed the lobby, thinking that perhaps she should look into apartments. Even if she didn't want to live in one, it had to be better than living in a hotel, she reasoned. "That's great!" Callie told Addison. "I should probably look into apartments, or something."
"You don't have to," Addison said with a shrug, hoping that she would not regret what she was going to offer. "I mean, I have an extra bedroom, and I'm living alone in a house that is much too big for me…" Addison trailed off, realizing fully how awkward this was. "What I mean," she clarified, when she saw Callie's look of confusion, "What I mean is, well, if you want, you can have one of my bedrooms."
"Really?" Callie asked, struggling with herself. "You wouldn't mind?"
"Nope." Addison smiled, hoping that she hadn't somehow offended Callie. She knew what she was offering Callie was kind of weird, especially since she was Addison. Though she pretended not to notice, Addison was aware that half the hospital liked her, and the other half detested her. Besides, she was the woman who had just divorced McDreamy, and a person who was called Satan, or (to her annoyance) Satan's whore.
"Are you sure? I mean, I'm probably a really terrible roommate. I listen to loud music, and I cook spicy food, and I love to watch and cry at sappy old movies, and I'm not terribly neat. But, if you don't mind, I'd love to." Addison looked at Callie, and smiled reassuringly.
"It's fine," Addison reassured Callie.
Callie hugged Addison quickly. "Thank you so much, Dr. Montgomery!" Callie exclaimed, and then tilted her head when Addison laughed, unable to figure out what was so funny.
"Okay, you can't move in if you call me 'Dr. Montgomery.'" Addison warned jokingly, as she watched Callie blush.
"Sorry, it's just that I really don't call you anything when I see you at the bar or the hotel, or during lunch breaks. When I do see you then, I call you Addison, but it's 'Dr. Montgomery' at the hospital, which is where I see you most."
"Well, it's Addison now." Addison stifled a laugh. "Either way, whenever you need the room, it's available. It has a bed now, but I assume you probably need a few days (or even weeks) to get ready to move."
"Actually, if it's okay with you, tomorrow would be good." Callie sighed, and once again the atmosphere was serious. "If I think about it too much, I'll say no—it's much easier to just keep everything on hold." Addison agreed full heartedly, and they agreed that Callie would bring her stuff over the next night, even though Addison was on call then. Before they had time to talk more, Addison's car pulled up. She said goodbye to Callie, loaded her bags into the trunk, and drove to her new house.
Looking around the house, Addison was filled with both happiness and sadness. This was a big step for her, and she reminded herself that now she was one step closer to recreating her life. While she unpacked her clothes and placed them in the closet and dresser, she reminded herself how lucky she was, all things considered. She banished all feelings of sadness to the back of her mind, and pretended they weren't there, even though there was nobody there for to have to put on an act for. Nobody but herself.