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Title: I've Got A Sweet Tooth And A Taste For You
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Alex/Izzie, Meredith
Word Count: 750
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: For
ladybeth. Forgive me, since I haven't written GA in over 2 weeks and I'm a little rusty.
Summary: It's a cold night in Seattle and, he thinks, probably a cold night in hell as well.
It’s a cold night in Seattle and, he thinks, a cold night in hell when Meredith comes home to find him still on her porch.
“Did you lock yourself out?” She asks, smiling until she realizes that the lights are on and the door isn’t even completely closed. “Okay, is there a reason you’re standing out here?”
“Izzie is…” he motions something that, in his head, might stand for crazy or, you know, a mess. Meredith nods, gets the gist of it. “She’s baking and the minute I set foot in there she was yelling at me to get out, so I came out here. Thinking about heading to Joe’s.”
She starts laughing for no reason, or at least no reason that he can see, in that all-knowing kind of way, and he’s starting to get a little annoyed.
“Yeah, my pain is funny, I get it.”
“No, it’s not that.” She’s trying to rein in the laughter, gets it under control, then, “She’s not mad at you.”
This he doubts. “Then how do you explain the chorus of ‘get out, get out’ that I heard?”
“She’s baking a cake because she found out it was your birthday and probably doesn’t want you to know she knows.”
His head snaps towards her. “How?”
“How did she find out?” Alex nods. “I may have accidentally seen your file about a month ago and mentioned it to her.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t think it was a big deal. It’s your birthday. You’re not old enough yet to dread it.” A gust of wind picks up, blowing her hair into her face, chilling them both to the bone, as she asks, “You got something against birthdays.”
“Never liked them.” He shrugs. “They usually got forgotten anyways.”
“Yeah, same here.” She tells him, and he doesn’t know why he’s surprised that she can identify with him. Of anyone she’s usually the one he tells this stuff to; she’s the one he has the most in common with. The two wonderfully fucked up people.
“Plus you’ve seen what she does around Christmas time. Something tells me birthdays get similar treatment.” He says this because he can’t keep with the somber tone. It gets to be too much after awhile.
“Hey, at least she hasn’t decorated the house in streamers and balloons. Cut her some slack.” Meredith smiles, gesturing towards the door. “Now go inside so you don’t have to spend your birthday in the hospital.”
“Oh could I?” She gives him a little shove towards the door, follows him in. Izzie’s moving around in the kitchen, but as soon as she hears them come in, she’s in the living room at breakneck speed.
“What are you doing?” Somehow, she manages to take up more space than she physically occupies and he can’t see into the kitchen at all with her standing in the doorway.
“He knows, Izzie.” Meredith says, over her shoulder, before disappearing upstairs, leaving them alone, and Alex kind of hates her at the moment.
Her face falls, a mumbled “Oh,” and he hates that most of all. He watches her try to think of something else to say but she comes up empty every time. Which means it’s all on him.
“It’s the thought that counts right?” It’s generic but it’s actual words, it’s something.
She looks up, nods, then, “Yelling at you pissed you off didn’t it?”
“Something like that.”
“Sorry. I was trying to surprise you. Kind of ruins the surprise when you walk in on me.”
“Why were you doing it in the first place?”
She looks at him like it’s the most obvious question in the world. “It’s your birthday.”
“You bake Cristina a cake too?” He asks, to which she shakes her head. “Didn’t think so.”
“You seem down.” She tells him, and he can feel a ramble coming on. “And I am down. And I figured birthday cakes make everything better, right?” It’s Izzie logic, through and through, and yet he kind of follows it now. Much easier than he used to.
“Depends on the cake.” He replies, with a smirk.
She bites her lip, “Red velvet work for you?”
“Yeah, I think so.” She smiles at his answer, goes back into the kitchen, this time with no qualms about him following her.
Later that night, her kiss tastes like vanilla frosting, and he can’t help but be reminded of cupcakes, false emergency pages made with ulterior motives in mind, and better days.
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Alex/Izzie, Meredith
Word Count: 750
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: For
ladybeth. Forgive me, since I haven't written GA in over 2 weeks and I'm a little rusty.
Summary: It's a cold night in Seattle and, he thinks, probably a cold night in hell as well.
It’s a cold night in Seattle and, he thinks, a cold night in hell when Meredith comes home to find him still on her porch.
“Did you lock yourself out?” She asks, smiling until she realizes that the lights are on and the door isn’t even completely closed. “Okay, is there a reason you’re standing out here?”
“Izzie is…” he motions something that, in his head, might stand for crazy or, you know, a mess. Meredith nods, gets the gist of it. “She’s baking and the minute I set foot in there she was yelling at me to get out, so I came out here. Thinking about heading to Joe’s.”
She starts laughing for no reason, or at least no reason that he can see, in that all-knowing kind of way, and he’s starting to get a little annoyed.
“Yeah, my pain is funny, I get it.”
“No, it’s not that.” She’s trying to rein in the laughter, gets it under control, then, “She’s not mad at you.”
This he doubts. “Then how do you explain the chorus of ‘get out, get out’ that I heard?”
“She’s baking a cake because she found out it was your birthday and probably doesn’t want you to know she knows.”
His head snaps towards her. “How?”
“How did she find out?” Alex nods. “I may have accidentally seen your file about a month ago and mentioned it to her.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t think it was a big deal. It’s your birthday. You’re not old enough yet to dread it.” A gust of wind picks up, blowing her hair into her face, chilling them both to the bone, as she asks, “You got something against birthdays.”
“Never liked them.” He shrugs. “They usually got forgotten anyways.”
“Yeah, same here.” She tells him, and he doesn’t know why he’s surprised that she can identify with him. Of anyone she’s usually the one he tells this stuff to; she’s the one he has the most in common with. The two wonderfully fucked up people.
“Plus you’ve seen what she does around Christmas time. Something tells me birthdays get similar treatment.” He says this because he can’t keep with the somber tone. It gets to be too much after awhile.
“Hey, at least she hasn’t decorated the house in streamers and balloons. Cut her some slack.” Meredith smiles, gesturing towards the door. “Now go inside so you don’t have to spend your birthday in the hospital.”
“Oh could I?” She gives him a little shove towards the door, follows him in. Izzie’s moving around in the kitchen, but as soon as she hears them come in, she’s in the living room at breakneck speed.
“What are you doing?” Somehow, she manages to take up more space than she physically occupies and he can’t see into the kitchen at all with her standing in the doorway.
“He knows, Izzie.” Meredith says, over her shoulder, before disappearing upstairs, leaving them alone, and Alex kind of hates her at the moment.
Her face falls, a mumbled “Oh,” and he hates that most of all. He watches her try to think of something else to say but she comes up empty every time. Which means it’s all on him.
“It’s the thought that counts right?” It’s generic but it’s actual words, it’s something.
She looks up, nods, then, “Yelling at you pissed you off didn’t it?”
“Something like that.”
“Sorry. I was trying to surprise you. Kind of ruins the surprise when you walk in on me.”
“Why were you doing it in the first place?”
She looks at him like it’s the most obvious question in the world. “It’s your birthday.”
“You bake Cristina a cake too?” He asks, to which she shakes her head. “Didn’t think so.”
“You seem down.” She tells him, and he can feel a ramble coming on. “And I am down. And I figured birthday cakes make everything better, right?” It’s Izzie logic, through and through, and yet he kind of follows it now. Much easier than he used to.
“Depends on the cake.” He replies, with a smirk.
She bites her lip, “Red velvet work for you?”
“Yeah, I think so.” She smiles at his answer, goes back into the kitchen, this time with no qualms about him following her.
Later that night, her kiss tastes like vanilla frosting, and he can’t help but be reminded of cupcakes, false emergency pages made with ulterior motives in mind, and better days.