The Practical Song (Supertramp)
When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful,
A miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical.
And all the birds in the trees, well theyd be singing so happily,
Joyfully, playfully watching me.
But then they send me away to teach me how to be sensible,
Logical, responsible, practical.
And they showed me a world where I could be so dependable,
Clinical, intellectual, cynical.
There are times when all the worlds asleep,
The questions run too deep
For such a simple man.
Won't you please, please tell me what weve learned
I know it sounds absurd
But please tell me who I am.
Now watch what you say or theyll be calling you a radical,
Liberal, fanatical, criminal.
Won't you sign up your name, wed like to feel you're
Acceptable, respecable, presentable, a vegetable!
At night, when all the world's asleep,
The questions run so deep
For such a simple man.
Wont you please, please tell me what weve learned
I know it sounds absurd
But please tell me who I am.
When she got back to her apartment, Meredith leaned up against the door jamb, concentrating hard on her key ring. Car. TA office. Mom's house. Don't know. Don't know. Apartment. Keeping a firm grasp on the key and at the same time, leaning back into the arms and firm body of the man behind her, she unlocked the door and staggered inside. The man's fingers grabbed her waist and guided her to the couch.
"No," she whispered. "The bedroom, the bed." And now she led, by the body, taking small steps as they untangled themselves from shirts and bras and belts and pants and shoes and socks until they were only themselves, only alone, in the bed, with each other to block out whatever had driven them to the bar that night.
Seattle. Seattle. The word drummed through her mind, keeping tempo with what should have been intimate, but was a good way to close off the world. Meredith clenched shut her eyes, and attempted to stay in the moment. Stay focused, stay in her body. But between the tequila, her tension and the stress of her day, she knew that the tipping point was beyond her tonight. Get it done, get it over, please don't ask to stay. Seattle.
The man was kissing her cheek, and she turned her face away from him so that he wouldn't reach her mouth.
"Oh baby, God, yes, unnnnhhh, yes, baby, unh," When he spoke in his low growl, Meredith was almost revolted. Unh yourself, mister. You need some help? You like talking? Fine.
"Oh God, you are so deeeep inside of me, oh yes," and to herself, Meredith sounded like a late-night commercial for phone sex. But somehow, that did the trick, and with a shudder, and another flurry of kisses, the man stopped. The sex was over. She gave him a slight push, and he rolled off of her to the side.
"Did you?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes—closed, of course they were closed. Why do men need this? This scorecard, validation that they are Superlover or something? They should figure out that—for women at least—sex can be good without orgasm, and even if I do come, it can still really suck.
"Yeah," she lied easily. "I need some water." She stood and reached up for her robe, and walked to the kitchen. She pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge, and sat at the table, leaning her forehead against one hand, and using the other to scrape off whatever congealed grossness had been left there at breakfast.
Go back to Seattle. I was happy in Seattle. Until I wasn't. But I'm pretty sure Seattle was where I was happy last. I can remember being happy there. I think. Dad's in Seattle. But Seattle's a big city, it's not like I would have to see him. He wouldn't know I was there. Is he doing research through a hospital there? Must remember to find that out, I can not match to that one. Way too complicated. But if I can avoid Dad, what's wrong with Seattle? Why not Seattle? Even though her gut screamed at her not to add Seattle to her rankings, she couldn't figure out why. There was no logical reason. The best illogical one was to avoid her dad. Well, that and that her mother had asked her to. Meredith had to admit that even though Ellis was not the most loving or emotional mother around, she wasn't the most cooperative daughter on the planet either.
Fine. I'll do it. I'll rank Seattle. As soon as I get rid of this boy in my bed.
A/N: This whole fic is backstory, spin-off from "What Do You Hear in These Sounds". Sometimes to write what's happening in the now for the characters, I have to have figured out who they were before. And this is fun, except that Meredith didn't just start being dark & twisty when Addison showed up. Let's face it--women in their 30s who pick up guys in bars for the one-night-stand aren't very self-actualized, are they? Anyway, this story is in the same universe as WDYH, unless at some point that it proves not to be. I have one more chapter written, and the possibility of more if I can. But more of my time & writing will be spent on WDYH, because I think I'm in love with it.
