Dedicated to anyshowsbitch on ao3 for getting me into this shipdom. I'm so sorry to all of you. This is what regrets feel like.
it was supposed to be a oneshot. Spoiler: it's not.
"Wore my new lip gloss. Because my ex- boyfriend's wife looks like Isabella freaking Rossellini and I'm like…" Doctor Grey looks to her right, her smile sad. "Me."
Addison pauses, in the hall. Isabella Rossellini? She thinks silently, to herself, as George stammers out something about lip gloss… chapped lips. Her own curl, into a crooked smirk, and she steps around the corner that will lead her to her intensive care unit. And her intern.
"Doctor Grey." She purrs, loudly. Her R's roll off her tongue, and she runs the tip over her lower lip. Her lipstick is quality, so it doesn't smudge. Her gaze tracks Meredith's, as Meredith's tracking her tongue. Good, she muses. She's got her hooked, and now it's time to reel her in.
"Yes… Doctor Shepard?" She blinks, slowly, allowing herself to take her gaze over the intern; with dirty blonde hair and big, doe eyes… Addison understands the allure. She stretches an arm out, pressing her palm to the wall as she leans, parting her lips. Meredith's gaze dips to her cleavage, if only briefly, and Addison snaps her wrist, tapping the woman's shoulder with her binder. She jolts in response to the pressure.
"Look these over please. For the… patient." She's slow and careful with her words. The same way Meredith is careful with the way she removes the binder from her grasp.
"Of… course, Doctor Shepard." Addison straightens at that, rolling her head back. Letting red curls fall over her shoulders to expose the column of her neck.
"Excellent, Doctor Grey." She takes one step, brushing their arms as though she's to pass the intern. "Oh, Doctor Grey." Meredith turns her head, and she's nearly nose to nose with Addison. "Isabella Rossellini is a bit of a stretch… don't you think?" She speaks low, soft. Lowering her gaze to Meredith's mouth, and then her neck. Watching as she swallows. "I'm more of a… Jayden Cole, I'd say."
Cristina spits when Meredith finally tells her.
There's Gatorade and saliva splashed across the floor, with matching splatter over the wall. It looks almost like watery vomit, and Meredith drops her head against her knees.
It's not like she didn't start thinking about it the moment she had laid eyes on the red-head. She's gorgeous, absolutely fabulous. And she's tall, with legs for days. When she closes her eyes, the images come right away; Addison, thighs spread, quivering. Addison, with her red hair, hovering over her, smirk painted across her flawless ruby lips because she's teasing. Always Addison. She's like drugs mixed with attitude to create a positively volatile cocktail and Meredith's already an addict. Addicted without reason.
"Ho- ly shit." Cristina splices her words, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Uh-huh." Meredith only groans, even as Cristina nudges her.
"McHotty compared herself to a pornstar." Cristina sits back, staring at the ceiling. Meredith groans again.
"A pornstar known for her lesbian content." She mumbles into her legs, rolling her ankles so her feet turn in circles. She can't imagine a viable reason to leave a woman like that in her right mind.
"You think she's-"
"Cristina." Meredith groans, flapping her arms like chicken wings. As though that could deter her.
"That's so hot. Oh my god." Cristina turns, hitting her with her shin. But Meredith's already been thinking about it.
"Cristina."
"You have to go ask her."
"Cristina." Another kick, so Meredith looks up.
"You have to." Meredith's eyes narrow. "A lesbian pornstar, Mer."
"And what am I supposed to say?" She flails her arms out, palms up. "Hey I know I fucked your husband, but you're hotter and you just compared yourself to a pornstar?" Cristina's eyes narrow. "Sorry, a lesbian pornstar? And I just want to know what you meant by that?"
"If it works." Cristina arches her arms out, flapping them. "Yea. Hell, Mer. Say whatever the fuck comes to mind. If she's gay, hit it. If she's not, well…" Cristina shrugs, tapering off, bringing her arms back in to fold them.
"She hates me anyway."
"I was going to say she wouldn't have called herself-" but Meredith slaps her hands to her face, shaking her head. Because she can't think straight when Addison is in the room to begin with, and thinking of her boss on her back, quivering with pleasure is an absolute no- go.
"Please don't say it again. I can't." So Cristina elbows her, right in the ribs. She's a half inch closer to the edge of the gurney, her resolve already beyond weakened.
"Do it. For science."
"For science?" Meredith hits her head against the wall, turning to stare at her. She really had to bring science into this. "Really?"
"Yes." They glare at each other. Meredith blinks, twice. And then she sighs, and stands up.
"Fine." Straightens her jacket. Fluffs up her hair. Has to try to look a fraction of how perfect Addison looks all the time. "For science."
"For science."
And that's what brings her all the way there. To the office.
Science.
It's what she has to tell herself, like she's a record on repeat. All the while standing outside the door, looking at a completely blank file for ten minutes, trying to muster the courage to go in. To ask. For science. The door is slightly ajar, and Addison probably isn't even there. Seattle Grace is a busy hospital, and the neonatal unit-
"Meredith."
Her head jerks up at her name. It's so soft, she barely registers it. Her palm presses against the wooden door, swinging it open. The office is still relatively bare, its walls still sparse, and why wouldn't it be? Addison had only just arrived. And then it happens again. Only this time, it's more of a moan that escapes her, and not quite a soft one, fast asleep against her desk.
"Meredith~"
