DISCLAIMER: Grey's Anatomy and its characters are the property of Shonda Rhimes and ABC. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written as part of the 31 Aspects meme. Prompt from trancer.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author
A Moment of Rest
George backed out, quickly, from the on-call room, his spine bent in a half bow as he ran for cover. Bailey allowed herself a smile. Her suck-ups were all running around as if they were chickens with their heads cut off and she couldn't have been happier. If only she hadn't been forced to chase them from pillar to post, supervising and teaching, while they stood in stupefied terror at her mood.
"If I were still an intern, I'd be quaking in my boots," said Addison from her position on one of the bunks.
"I doubt that." Pushing Addison's feet to one side, Bailey sprawled across the opposite end of the bed, a weary sigh escaping her lips. "I never took you for a suck-up."
Addison didn't bother to answer; instead, she reached for one of Bailey's feet and quickly divested it of its covering.
"Relax, I'm good at this."
Bailey pulled her foot away. "Do I look like the girlie chats and foot rubs type?"
Undeterred, Addison retrieved the foot and started a slow and gentle massage of Bailey's instep. "Shut up and enjoy it."
The two locked stares.
"I eat skinny arsed white girls like you for breakfast," Bailey warned.
Addison increased her pressure. "I'm Satan, remember?"
The sigh of pleasure took both women by surprise and Bailey scowled in embarrassment. Her foot jerked back only to be willingly recaptured and submitted to such pleasurable pain that Bailey felt as though her bones had liquefied and slipped through her skin.
"Satan my behind."
After several minutes of almost silence, Bailey's muffled whimpers were something neither woman mentioned; Addison reached for Miranda's other foot and began applying pressure.
With her eyes closed and a dreamy expression on her face, Bailey finally allowed herself to relax. "If you were a man, I'd marry you."
Addison laughed. "If you were single, I'd take you up on it."
"Don't you mean if we were both single?"
Bailey didn't want to get in the middle of the Sheppard-Grey-Sheppard triangle but it was almost as if their little melodrama had infected the entire staff. You couldn't go three feet in the hospital without someone offering their opinion on Addison's troubled marriage.
"I am single." As it to prove her point, Addison removed her wedding band before continuing her ministrations. "I just happen to have a husband."
Silence descended on the room but, unlike other silences, it was a pleasant quiet. Neither woman had to pretend to be tougher than she was: they could just be themselves.
Her massage finished, Addison released Bailey's foot, the sense of otherworldly detachment shattered by a rapid knock on the door.
The Nazi was back and Cristina shrank into herself, a look of annoyance aimed at Addison in lieu of the real target.
"O'Malley said you gave him my case."
Addison watched in fascination as Cristina stepped back, her hands balled at her sides, and a scowl directed at the floor.
"Did I miss something, Yang, or are you still one of my interns?"
"Because unless you've suddenly been promoted to chief, I don't want to see you outside that suture room for the next three hours."
"Did I stutter?"
Cristina fought against an argument, turned, and fled.
Bailey sighed, her shoulders slumped with the weight of the day's traumas.
"Only another couple of hours," Addison assured.
In the quiet of the on-call room, the Nazi and Satan shared a friendly smile, the long hours ahead made bearable by their moment of peace and by the prospect of eviscerating an intern or two.
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