G/I fanfic

Apr 07, 2007 18:42

Title: TGIF
Part: 1/1
Rating: R
Pairing: George/Izzie
Disclaimer:  I don't own these characters or any part of Grey's Anatomy.
Summary: That I'd see your face in the door
Spoiler:   Follows current GA storyline.
A/N: Review please!  and Enjoy!

George isn't sure when this happened.  He knows how.  The how is easy.  How does this not happen when you spend hours of your life with someone everyday.  Trading food at lunch, fighting for the shower, sharing your problems, screaming and laughing at each other.  Laying next to them in a bed or on a bathroom floor.  All those things are part of the why as well.

Another part of the why is never finding someone who can fill those hours as easily or joyfully, even if you want to, or think you did.  Even if you try to make it true.  And even if she tries too.  George used to think things like this happened by choice.  He doesn't believe that anymore.

How and why, he's got.  When.  When is almost impossible,  It's probably not important though.  Anyone who can say exactly the moment they fell in love with someone is probably lying.  We can't ever know these things because they are what happen while we're making other plans.  George had other plans.  He was genuinely committed to them and he tried to prove it to himself and the world.  He should have recognized that as the first sign they were going to fail.

How, why, when - that's three.  The other ones are where, what, and who.  The what ,right now is easy.  Really easy.  What George is, is drunk.  Where, at Joe's.  If anyone asks, it's because it's Friday and he's just being an intern.  Christina and Meredith are interns too, and they are drinking, maybe not drunk, but drinking on a Friday, so it's not suspicious for him to do the same.  He's only worried about what he might say if someone starts talking to him, but that's not likely because George finds that if he just puts his face in his beer, people pretty much forget he's there.

If someone asked him WHY he's drunk, George could say he had a rough week.  That's probably a good enough answer for just about anyone.  And the answer is right, but the question is wrong.  Inquiring minds shouldn't ask him WHY, they should ask him WHO.  Who is the important question, the smart question, the dangerous question.  But no one is going to ask him.  The person who knows what questions to ask, isn't going to ask them.  She doesn't talk much these days, to him anyway.  George gets it.  And she doesn't have the same 'where' as he does currently.  She could be anywhere, George just knows she's not here.  George orders another beer.  And a shot of Jameson for good measure.

The other 'where' George doesn't know pertains to his wife.  "Wife".  If George were talking right now, he'd be making quotation marks with his fingers.  But this unknown where is okay.  Because George doesn't "care".

~*------------*~

Izzie knows she walked into Joe's with Alex at 10:30pm.  Izzie knows she almost walked out of the bar at 10:30pm because she saw George sitting at the bar.  Not his face, just his back, his coat, that hat he wears.  That was enough to make her question walking into Joe's.  But she figures, two shots and she won't care that George is there and Alex already said he was buying a round.  Izzie can do this.  She's avoided him all week, but she can do this, now.

Izzie knows she can't avoid him forever.  Izzie knows this is George.  George, her best friend.  The man who has done the most right by her in her life.  The man she can be next to.  No matter what.  She can be sitting, crying, screaming, laughing, baking, drinking, freaking, standing, or - as she has most recently learned - orgasming.  Izzie knows she can be next to George.

Izzie knows that Christina was the first to go home  at 12:17am and when she did, Izzie had had two shots and a rum and coke.  Alex was next, Izzie knows this because he offered to give her a ride home and she refused.  She also knows that was the first time George made eye contact with her that night, though it was probably an accident.  Izzie also knows that George switched to water at 12:56, which is two minutes after Derek came to pick up Meredith.

Izzie knows that when Derek and Meredith left that bar at 1:08am and Meredith left the stool next to her empty, George walked over and sat on it.  And though they did not say a word to each other for the next 40 minutes, Izzie knows those 40 minutes were the best 40 minutes of her week.  Because Izzie knows where she belongs, and that is next to George.

~*--------------*~

Joe told them it was closing time and that's when they finally looked at each other.  He thought about the moment she had reached for him in the linen closet, and he sought out the hand in her lap with one of his own.  She blinked twice and then nodded.

He drove back to the house, against her better judgement.  Not that she would have been a better choice.  The air was damp and heavy when he parked in front of the house.  She got out of the car and so did he.  They leaned against the driver's side doors looking anywhere but at each other.  He broke the silence.

"I'm not drunk."

"Neither am I."

"Good."  His hand were on her hips then, pulling her to him, and they stayed there, as he looked into her eyes and she into his.  That's when it happened.

It was a real first kiss.  It moved together slowly, they thought about it before it happened.  It was his lips on hers, soft and quiet, his hands sliding up her sides and hers up his arms to his shoulders.  It was something they would remember.  Something impossible to forget.  It was her breath on his shoulder when they broke apart, an all consuming embrace, and him turning her back against the car so he could kiss her again.

"House.  Can we go in the house?"  She breathed as his lips moved to her neck.

"You know what will happen if we go in there?"

"Yes.  And normally, I would not be fine with that."  This stops him, his forehead resting against her collarbone as he tries to catch his breath.  She continues, "But this can't be wrong, it just... it can't be."

She's right, she has to be.  It doesn't feel wrong when his fingers are laced between hers as he leads the way up the stairs.  When she opens the door to her room and pulls him in by his shirt.  When his hands find the snap of her jeans, and she pulls his undershirt over his head.  They are both convinced they are doing something right, for the first time, in a very long time.

Neither of them remember all the previous details, but they know this time around, it's slower.  He touches every inch of her with his fingers, his palms, his mouth, like he's marking her flesh with a memory it will never be able to lose.  She takes control from him, something he quickly learns is a positive.  With his hands lost in her hair, all he can to is whisper her name over and over, and at the sound of him, he can feel her smile, which makes him shiver.

Then they're sweaty and she's beneath him, but he waits and holds her face between his hands and whispers, "I remember that smile" as he kisses her and she feels it in every nerve she has.  They rock against each other without a single flaw and ride each wave together.

~*-------------*~

"I was waiting all night for you to walk through that door," he tells her as they lay in a mess of tangled sheets, facing each other.  "I didn't know what I would do if you did, but I wanted you to."

"I missed you.  This week," she says, as she traces his cheek with her finger.

"It won't go on like this.  You deserve better.  I shouldn't have asked you for that promise."

"You were scared and trying to damage control."

"You are not damage control to me."

"I know."

"I'm going to tell her.  It's going to suck.  But I'm going to."

"You're sure?  Because you shouldn't do anything crazy-"

"The part where I asked you to talk me into the marriage?"

"Yeah?"

"Shouldn't have asked you for that either.  Stupid idea."
It's the sound of her laugh that echoes through the house as twilight breaks through the windows.

fics, shipper: george/izzie

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