DISCLAIMER: Grey's Anatomy and all its characters are the property of Shonda Rhimes and ABC.
AUTHORS' NOTE: We love lyra_sena, who is the best speedy beta two fangirls could hope for. Also, we are awesome. In case you were wondering.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SPOILERS: 2.06 ("Into You Like A Train").

Two Beer Queer
By Amy & Nifra Idril

 

Three people died in the same operating room as Izzie today, and she's just too tired to go home and listen to George silently lust after Meredith, Meredith loudly agonize over McDreamy and Cristina mutter to herself about Burke, so when Addison asks her out for a drink, she says yes, because Addison was there, too. And with Addison, she doesn't have to say any of the regular things, she doesn't have to be The Roommate, The Model, The Close Enough Friend.

It's comfortable with Addison, because they're both used to playing parts. They don't like it, but they're used to it, and so they know how to get along. They both understand -- and Izzie's pretty lucky in the whole 'role' arena, because at least she doesn't have to be Satan. That's got to be tough, even if it would sometimes be fun. Izzie wishes sometimes she could be Satan, and tell Meredith to shut up, Alex to grow up, Cristina to get over it, and George to grow a pair of balls, but not even Addison does that.

But it's been a long day, and fun role to play or not, it gets old. It gets really old, and what's cool about Addison is that when they're together they can just forget the roles. They're just a couple of tired, strung out doctors, drinking beer at Addison's, because neither one of them wants to see anybody else from the hospital, because it's just too damned tiring. Or, at least that's how Izzie feels, they didn't really talk about it, they just ended up here. It's just them, because McDreamy's at work, and thank God for that.

Addison goes to the kitchen to get them their drinks, and that's when Izzie notices the catalog. It's one of the last ones she did, nothing tasteless but nothing she'd put on her Christmas cards either. It's just her, in underwear, and it's what paid for her textbooks and spending cash her last semester of med school. And she knows for sure, now, that Addison knows.

And, weirdly, Izzie knows she should be squicked. Or disturbed. But she's not. Because it isn't like everybody else hasn't seen her without her clothes on, and it's not like Addison treats her any differently, not like they did. She doesn't look anywhere but at Izzie, she doesn't stare at Izzie's breasts or anything like that, and she sure as hell hasn't ever said anything about how she's lucky to have a nice figure, because that's just not Addison; she's confident, she's professional, and she's also really, really funny when she's drunk, Izzie finds out.

She does this hilarious impression of the Chief that makes Izzie fall out of her chair laughing, especially when she starts barking orders at the lamp, which is standing in for Dr. Burke. Izzie thinks the lamp isn't too bad at impressions either.

The floor's pretty comfortable, so Izzie stays there, and Addison ends up lying on it, too, and after a while they're both quiet except for when Addison says, "You're not driving anywhere tonight," and Izzie kind of laughs in response. The ceiling's nice to look at. Really -- white, and even, and Addison's warm next to her.

The thing about Addison is that it's pretty stupid how they're all supposed to hate her because Meredith slept with her husband, because, really, he is her husband, and Izzie opens her mouth to say that, but decides against it at the last minute.

Addison pokes Izzie with her elbow. "What?"

"Nothing," Izzie says stretching her arms out over her head. "Just --"

"Just what?"

Izzie scrunches up her nose and tries to think of something to say and then gets distracted by Addison's hair brushing her forearm and when she turns Addison is watching her impatiently and she thinks about saying something about Meredith but then a far more important question hits her. "Salmon scrubs? Really? I thought red heads couldn't wear pink."

If Addison were this drunk and she were Cristina, she'd say something really cutting. And if Addison were Meredith, she'd probably cry about how no one loves her. But Addison is just Addison, which means that she kind of smiles, and says "How do you know I'm a natural redhead?"

Which takes Izzie by surprise a lot more than it should, because she's spent her life surrounded by models, underwear models for god's sake, and she's a doctor besides, and nothing should embarrass her, but for some reason what Addison says sends Izzie's mind in a tailspin straight to the gutter.

So Izzie just laughs, and then she thinks about what everyone would say, and then she laughs more, because no one she works with is the poster child for not getting involved with your superior. Except maybe George, and George is always the exception anyway, so why let now be any different?

And then she realizes that if she's about to kiss Addison, the last person she should be thinking about is George.

So she thinks about Addison. And then she kisses her.

Which is weird, and... not, all at once. Weird, because she's kissing Addison on the floor of Addison's apartment which Addison is going to move out of to move back in with McDreamy in like, a day or something, and also weird because Addison isn't kissing her back so much, but not weird because it's not like Izzie hasn't thought about this before, which is kind of weird on its own. Plus, she's drunk and it's a bad angle, but it's okay because Addison tastes as much like Corona as she does.

After the kiss, Addison blinks at her for a second, and Izzie blinks back. "So, is this the only reason you don't think I'm Satan?" Addison asks.

"Please, I want to kiss Alex, too, I don't have great taste," Izzie tells her.

"Oh. Okay then," Addison says, with a nod. "So are you going to kiss me again?"

"I was thinking I might," Izzie says. "But. You know. I'm drunk, so we can write it off in the morning if it doesn't work out."

Addison considers this, then accepts. "That sounds fair."

This time, Addison does kiss her back, which definitely improves things, and also she moves over a little bit, which helps too.

Drunk is good- drunk is nice- but Izzie's pretty sure that Addison would be into this even if she were completely sober, which is even better. And at one point, Addison murmurs something that may or may not be "You're pretty", and if that is what she said, she's already been more romantic than Alex ever was, and come to think of it, even if she didn't say that, that's probably still true.

Izzie remembers that she shaved her legs. She smiles a little.

At least this time it isn't going to waste. Or, Izzie doesn't think it's going to waste, because Addison's not the kind of person to leave you high and dry. Addison has follow through. Addison has nice hands, especially nice when they're on Izzie's breasts.

Addison's done this before, Izzie thinks vaguely, which makes sense because it seems like Addison's done everything before. This surgery, that much alcohol, Meredith's boyfriend? All in the "been there, done that, moving on" category, probably. And weirdly, there's this freedom in that for Izzie. Because no matter what happens, this can just be another story. And Addison's nice enough to leave out names until she's safely out of the area.

And it also means that Addison knows what she's doing. And that her hands aren't just good at surgery.

Izzie wonders if Addison's imagined it before this very moment. Because she knows she has, but it has to be different for Addison- Izzie provided visual aids, after all- and if those pictures helped this moment at all? Totally, totally worth it.

"The camera really does add ten pounds," Addison murmurs against Izzie's neck after she gets Izzie's shirt off. "That or you've only been eating Ramen for months."

"I'm an intern," Izzie reminds her, arching her back and accidentally knocking over the Burke-lamp with her foot, and Addison doesn't answer, only flicks the catch to Izzie's bra open and kisses her again.

Seattle Grace probably wasn't intended to be a hot singles center - or maybe not-so-singles, as the case may be - but really, why the hell not go trawling for dates at work? This isn't a date, but Izzie is going to get laid. That much is clear. And Addison's getting impatient, pulling at her own pants and Izzie's too, and Izzie's head really isn't in the game as much as it should be. It's too far in the bottle, which is a damned shame, because Izzie probably won't have another chance to really feel Addison's breasts in her hands again, and they feel very very nice. Izzie appreciates Addison's breasts, truly appreciates them.

Izzie bets McDreamy didn't appreciate Addison's breasts the way she did. But, no, she doesn't want to be thinking about McDreamy, when probably Addison's only bad quality is that she's slept with McDreamy and liked it. She wants to be sleeping with Addison.

She has to stop and amend her thought process: Thinking about. Not sleeping with. Totally different things. Except kind of not, right now, and she likes it that way.

Addison's laughing, and that's when Izzie notices that when she tried to think she stopped with the moving. And that's something to be fixed. So she laughs too, and helps with the clothing removal, and now she and Addison are both naked and the carpet is even softer than it felt through her shirt and that's just happy.

"Hey," Addison murmurs.

"Hey."

"You want to do this out here, or -- I do have a bedroom, you know," Addison points to somewhere over Izzie's left shoulder with her hand, and Izzie just grabs that hand and drags it back to her body, which is where it should be, thank you very much, and the idea of standing up and going somewhere is so ridiculous that she can't even imagine why Addison would think that.

When Izzie first decided she was going to med school people made all the jokes about playing doctor, and about doctors' hands, and usually the conversations ended with her slamming someone against the wall or throwing her champagne in their face, but right now all of them are coming back to her because suddenly they make so much sense.

Because she's had decent guys, and she's had bad guys, and she's had guys who she thought were good at this sort of thing, but Addison has magical hands. The kind that can heal the sick and bring back the dead. Or bring a really fucking spectacular orgasm, which is what's happening right now, which is what Izzie is totally okay with.

Because one second Addison is just kind of stroking her stomach, in a way that feels good but not amazing, and then in the next she does something and Izzie is squirming and it's perfect and wonderful and nice.

And she's pretty sure that Addison's given up all pretense of that "bedroom" thing she'd been talking crazy about a minute before, because she had to know how much Izzie's bones would go to jelly the second she tried that, and jelly Izzie is not going to stand up and go anywhere.

What jelly Izzie is going to do is close her eyes, and feel Addison's fingers on her thigh, Addison's back underneath her hands, Addison's lips on her ear. Addison's hair brushing against her cheek and Addison smells...she smells really good. Girls smell better than guys, Izzie thinks, and it feels like something deep and profound, but then Addison's fingers move up, start tracing very, very light circles on her clit and Izzie's eyes snap open and Addison is watching her, smiling, even. It occurs to Izzie as she looks at Addison, Addison's body, that Addison is maybe prettier than she is. Hotter. And Addison is trying to make up with her husband and Izzie has - kind of - seduced her, and that makes Izzie more of a Satan doesn't it?

Izzie's never really thought of herself as the Satan type. That's Cristina's area, or maybe Meredith's- she's supposed to be the nice one. And maybe that's where the Satan thing hits its problem: because Izzie should be feeling bad about this, for like sixty thousand reasons, but right now none of them are nearly as important as the way Addison's hands feel on her body. And really, even if she is the one who started it, Addison's totally partially responsible. And for all that Addison's done, not taking responsibility for her actions? Not really one of them.

In fact, Izzie thinks, as she begins to do some exploring of her own, her fingers creeping slowly up Addison's thigh, she really did get the most mature of all the doctors at Grace. Addison is responsible, and mature, and doesn't always look confused, and doesn't really yell at people, and even if she is Satan- which Izzie doesn't think she is, right now, because Satan wouldn't know how to make her come so hard she screamed, like, twice in twenty minutes, or whatever- she has really, really, really nice breasts. Which Izzie would hate if someone was thinking that about her, but it's not about her, it's about Addison, and Addison's pretty.

In fact, she's dreamy.

In fact, she's married to McDreamy, and Izzie needs to sober up enough to enjoy however much of this she has left before how horrible a person she's probably being sets in. Right now it's just fuzzy and happy.

But it's a fuzzy and happy Izzie wants to hold on to, because Addison's still kind of smoothing down her hair and murmuring into her neck and giggling because Addison's drunk, too, which makes this less anybody's fault other than the beer, but maybe even in the morning, Izzie won't care about fault. Maybe this doesn't have to be some kind of ill-fated love affair with a superior; really, another one at this point would just be boring. Meredith and Cristina have that market cornered, and Izzie isn't looking to compete.

And this - this doesn't have to be anything but what it is. It doesn't have to be dressed up like some kind of true love, or dysfunctionally normal every day dating situation, because Izzie and Addison aren't dating. It doesn't matter that Addison's married, it doesn't matter that Izzie is maybe falling for Alex of all people; it doesn't have to be anything but what it is. And this is what it is: Izzie, Addison, naked, on the carpet in Addison's apartment.

The End

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