DISCLAIMER: Grey's Anatomy is the property of ABC.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SEQUEL: To Stevens' Anatomy.
The Vagina Monster
"Here you go," Christina tossed a folded piece of paper onto Izzie's plate.
"What's this?" she opened it, revealing a red letter A surrounded by a red circle.
"It's your scarlet letter," Christina smirked. "For when you sleep with Addison. You know, the adulterer."
Izzie balled the paper up, tossing it at Christina. "I am not sleeping with Addison."
"Wait," George looked up from his plate. "You're sleeping with Addison, too? Is everyone having sex but me."
"Yes," the two women answered in unison. Izzie turned to Christina. "I'm not playing Meredith's game. Besides, I don't sleep with married women."
"She's not," George mumbled through a mouthful of poor boy sandwich. His eyes darted from Christina to Izzie, noting their questioning gaze. Lips spreading into a smirk. "Wait, you mean to tell me that I have gossip that neither of you have? You should really be nicer to the nurses. They have all the good stuff."
He gulped hard, watching Christina pick up her plastic knife, brandishing it threateningly. She growled at him, "You obviously have a pain fetish because you know if you don't spill we will hurt you."
"Fine, fine," he held up his hands defensively. "Addison's not married. She handed Derek the divorce papers last night."
"Whoa," Christina slumped back onto her chair. "I guess this means the Monster won't be chasing after the Vagina anymore. Damn, I was really hoping for another orgasm today."
Izzie hurriedly gathered her things, lifting up from her chair and grabbing her plate. "I have to go."
They watched her quick exit. Christina lifted a brow, half smile on her face. "She is soo sleeping with Addison."
"Yep," George returned to his lunch. "She is soo sleeping with Addison."
Izzie found Addison in a stairwell. She sat on the steps, elbow propped on a knee, head leaning on her hand.
"Hey," Izzie announced herself, Addison turning her head. "You okay?"
"You heard, huh? I guess what they say is true. The only thing faster than light is gossip."
Izzie shrugged. She sat down on the step next to Addison, approaching her warily as if the redhead were a wounded animal. Which, Izzie supposed, she was.
"It never occurred to me," Addison exhaled, "that I could lose it all. My husband, my practice, family, friends, my home. Maybe I do deserve this. But, does the punishment really fit the crime? I knew there'd be a bottom. I just didn't figure it'd be this lonely. That I'd feel this unwanted," she chuckled softly to herself. "And my ego's having a hard time taking it."
Her words trailed off, silence filling the stairwell, seeming to overtake them. More than a pregnant pause, heavier, like the air itself was a weight bearing down upon them. Izzie unsure what to do, what to say. Instead, she sat next to Addison. When the moments ticked into minutes, Izzie spoke. "The first funeral I ever went to was for my Aunt's baby. I never realized they made coffins that small. It didn't seem right. Still doesn't," she paused, turning to face Addison. "There's one less tiny coffin, one less funeral for a life unlived because of you. You're not unwanted. There's a ward filled with little lives that proves it."
The corners of Addison's lips pulled upwards, as if she couldn't stop herself from smiling. "I could kiss you right now, you know."
"I wouldn't stop you," Izzie smiled nervously. "You know."
Izzie watched, nervously, as Addison's face seemed to change, from questioning, to recognition, to the first flickers of what Izzie could only hope was desire. Felt her heart hammering like a sledgehammer against a steel drum inside her chest as Addison reached for her. Her hand cupping Izzie's jaw, the thumb gently grazing across her lips. Addison searching with her eyes, from Izzie's lips, to her eyes and back again. Searched for a sign that the invitation was more than an entendre.
She leaned forward, her lips grazing across Izzie's. Felt a heated gasp across her mouth. The first kiss was light, gentle, nothing more than wanting to feel the skin of Izzie's lips against her own. The second more exploratory, with the opening of mouths and exchanging of breaths. More than curiosity. The realization that, yes, she did want to kiss Izzie, and the feeling was returned.
After that, Addison lost count. Lost count because a hand was threading into her hair, pulling her in. The feelings of uncertainty, caution, turned to desire, to want. Grazed her tongue across Izzie's lips, purred at the acquiescence in the opening mouth and she tasted. Felt a hand threading in her hair, pulling her in, the tongue against hers no longer acquiescing, but demanding. And Addison realized it had been months, maybe even years since she'd been kissed, really kissed.
The sound of a beeper pinging loudly cut through the air like a razor blade. The two women pulled hurriedly from each other, almost in a daze. Each grabbed at their waistband, searching for the source of the sound.
"I," Addison looked up, a nervous uncertainty in her eyes. "I have to go."
She stood on her feet, rushing hurriedly towards the exit. Izzie continued sitting on the stairs. Heart still beating a frenzied rhythm beneath her chest. Lips still warm. But now, the uncertainty she'd seen in Addison's eyes washed over her. It'd been more than a kiss, that much she knew. It left her wondering, in the empty corridor with her heart still beating heavy and the taste of Addison still on her lips, what the Hell she was supposed to do now?
George and Meredith slammed their empty shots glasses onto the counter simultaneously. After which, George immediately went for his beer, chasing the acrid burning taste in his mouth. Meredith smirked, reaching for the next filled shot glass. "Amateur."
"Lush," George fired back. He waited until Meredith slammed down her empty. "Do you take requests?"
"Does the Vagina Monster take requests?"
"My life is not a column in Penthouse Letters section."
"Please," he snorted. "You're like the year-end special edition, with annotated footnotes," he placed his elbows on the counter, grinning widely. "C'mon, don't you wanna know what lurks in the mind of the George?"
She squinted at him suspiciously. "You don't jerk off listening to me have sex with women, do you?"
"No," he blanched, more like his face searched for the perfect shade of pink, shaking his head jerkily. "No, of course not."
"You do realize I don't believe you, and I'm going to mock you mercilessly at the most inopportune times."
"Hey, it's not my fault you and Izzie keep forgetting that you live with a guy."
"But George," she laid a hand on his shoulder placatingly. "You're not a guy, more like a girl with a penis."
"Ouch," he winced. "And what does that make you?"
Christina approached the bar, sliding onto a stool. "A guy with breasts and a vagina." she slammed her hand on the counter. "Hit me, Joe!"
"There's a difference?" George asked.
"Of course there's a difference," Christina shook her head in an irritated manner. "One's a guy trapped in a woman's body, the other's a woman trapped in a man's body. And you're totally a woman. I'm surprised you don't menstruate."
"Hey! If I'm such a woman, then how come Meredith hasn't had sex with me?"
"'Cuz," Meredith bit into her lime, licking the salt off the back of her hand before downing another shot. "You may be a woman but you're more like my little sister."
"Hey!" Christina grumped. Jabbed a finger at the both of them, noting the empty shot glasses. "You two started without me. I told you not to start without me. Now I'm going to have to drink myself into a coma to catch up with her."
"I'm not a woman," George grumbled, repeating the Tequila Shot Dance before downing his own glass. "I have a penis, and testosterone, and chest hair and.."
"Shut up, George!" the two women blurted in unison.
"No, I am NOT shutting up!" he slammed his shot glass on the counter, standing up straight, his chest puffing. "I am a man. A man with needs. Like the need to know if the Vagina Monster here has ever thought about doing it with twins."
"No, George, I am not doing it with," she paused, back straightening slightly. "What twins?"
"Ha! I knew it!"
Christina lifted an eyebrow. "What is this? The last hurrah of the Vagina Monster Retirement Party?"
"What are you talking about?" Meredith asked.
"You haven't heard?" Christina lifted her brows in surprise. Her eyes turned to George. "She hasn't heard."
"Why do I have to tell her?" he had the slightly panicked look of a man about to enter a lion's den.
"You heard her, you're like her little sister."
"I am not.."
"Dammit," Meredith slapped her hand on the counter. Judging by the stares from around the bar, harder than her drunken self intended. "Would you two tell me what's going on?"
George sighed, placing his hands on the counter, inhaling deeply. "Addison and Derek got divorced."
Meredith paled. She began craning her neck, turning it in multiple directions, searching about the bar. "Where's Izzie?"
"Izzie?" George repeated. But, Meredith had already begun putting on her coat, hand reaching for her keys as she hustled towards the door.
"Dammit, I knew it. I knew this would happen," George picked up his mug, guzzling down the rest before hurrying after her.
Joe walked towards the now empty part of the bar, setting a large pitcher in front of Christina. "Where're they going?"
"Oh, you know," Christina picked up the pitching, filling her glass. "Girl talk."
"Meredith," he found her just around the corner. Meredith stood next to her SUV, fumbling drunkenly for her keys. George trotted up to her. Snatched the keys from her hands. "Meredith!"
"What!" she snapped at him.
"Where are you going?"
"To find Izzie," she snatched her keys from his grasp.
"Why?" George snapped them right back. This time, holding his arm behind his back.
"To stop her from sleeping with Addison." The two looked like a pair playing street ball. George ducking and jerking from Meredith's grasp, while she, in a slight crouch, hooked and jabbed about him, flailing for her keys. A task made more difficult by the fact that she was half a sheet away from being completely loaded.
"I knew it. I knew it!" She'd backed him into the SUV. He held the keys high up with his arm. "I told you this would happen."
"What would happen?"
"Admit it! You have feelings for Izzie."
"Of course I have feelings for Izzie," Meredith slurred, blinking her eyes into focus. "She's my friend."
"Right," George turned around to face her, secure she wouldn't lunge for the keys. "And you always tell your friends to sleep with the wife of the guy you have a thing for. But, it was fine when she was married because then you could just call it a fling, and still get to have sex with Izzie. But now that Addison's single, it changes everything because you know how much Izzie likes her. And now you're afraid Isobel 'more than just a booty call' Stevens won't let you in when you come a' knockin' because you don't want to admit it's more than just sex."
"It IS just sex," Meredith huffed, folding her arms defensively across her chest. "I'm not into Izzie."
"Right. Just like you don't like tequila, either. Nobody goes back to the one dish on a buffet table just 'cuz it's there. If you're not into Izzie then tell me, why do you keep having sex with her?"
Meredith opened her mouth to respond except, the words wouldn't come. The one part of her brain not clouded with alcohol telling her to keep her mouth shut. To not vocalize what she'd been thinking, and feeling. "I'm not into Izzie," she muttered under her breath, a little less decisively.
"Of course you're not," George put his arm around her, the two walking back towards the bar. "C'mon, McDrunky, let's get baby her bottle."
Meredith leaned her head onto George's shoulder, smiling. "You're a good 'lil sister, you know that?"
"And you're just like my slutty, drunken older brother," he patted her on the head. "With less facial hair."
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