prompts to help me avoid killing someone
I'm posting fic later today and I'm so pissed with the bathroom remodeler (who really isn't doing his job, just talking on his phone, as it turns out) I can't see straight BUT
I'm taking prompts. Standard format: fandom, pairing, word/song lyric/situationFandoms: Grey's, TBBT, some Lost (keeping in my mind that I haven't seen seen S6), umm... ( Read more... )
I'm taking prompts. Standard format: fandom, pairing, word/song lyric/situationFandoms: Grey's, TBBT, some Lost (keeping in my mind that I haven't seen seen S6), umm... ( Read more... )
I.
“You are going to just have to suck it up.”
Defiance has always suited him rather well. “No.”
“Here are the keys,” she continues on, as if she hasn’t even heard him, “here is the list. If you can’t manage to figure it out, I will take a picture of the box and send it to you.”
“Isn’t there some whole feminism thing about being self-sufficient and not having to rely on men?”
Izzie blinks. “It’s a rotating schedule. Meredith did it last week. You are doing it this week. Derek will be doing it sometime in the future. We all will live.” He still does not accept the list, although he does have a rather tight grip on the keys. Go figure. “You work with pregnant women and babies pretty much for a living these days. Are you really going to tell me you are too manly to buy tampons?”
“I want a divorce.”
“So do I, pretty much every other Thursday. Get over it.” She shoves the list into his hand and a hand into the small of his back, pushing him out the door. She places a kiss on his cheek and then shuts the door in his face before he can come up with any more excuses.
There is laughter coming from the kitchen.
-
II.
“We didn’t really do the whole Christmas thing.”
“Yes you did.”
“Fine, we did it. Sort of. Although it was less milk and cookies for Santa and more eggnog with the rum in it.”
She smiles brightly. “And this is why you’re hanging lights.”
“Really? Cause I was pretty sure that it’s because you asked me to.”
“Additionally, it’s because you’re immune to my charm.”
Alex cocks his head to the side, like he’s pondering that thought. It wouldn’t look so damn funny if he wasn’t more or less draped in multi-colored Christmas lights. He finally decides on, “no.”
“Here.”She hands him the second strand of lights, still spooled together, so that she can put her shoes on.
“Here what?”
“So I can put my shoes on.” He frowns. “So I can help you.”
“Miracles,” he retorts, though it’s half hearted.
“Shut up,” she replies, straightening up and pulling her hair into a ponytail. “You know, wouldn’t it be cool to do this with our own place.”
“We had our own place. It was a trailer. There was a bear. Now there’s this.”
“I mean - “
“Why do I sense I’m going to wake up in the morning to find you highlighting apartment listings?”
“Mostly because you are.”
“Figured.”
-
III.
“You’re better at this than me.” She follows him out of the spare bedroom, closing the door as she leaves. “How are you better at this than me?”
“As you love to point out, I spend most of my time working either in neonatal or peds.” She does take great joy in pointing that out to anyone under the impression that he’s some hotshot plastic surgeon. “You think that’s just a coincidence.”
“Yeah but there’s nothing wrong with this kid.”
He snorts. “Oh, there’s a lot wrong with that kid. Just nothing that requires surgery.”
“I think he’s a little ADD.” She throws a glance over her shoulder, which is a little silly because he’s two and it isn’t like he’s going to storm out and complain that they were talking behind his back. He can’t even speak in full sentences yet. “Don’t tell - “
“Yeah, yeah, I won’t tell her you said that.”
“Both of them.”
“Both of them,” he repeats. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Any ideas of - “ her mouth snaps shut and he understands that it’s all downhill from there, “Oh. No. Okay. See, I didn’t even have those ideas until you just mentioned them.”
“Oh please.”
“No. I didn’t. I’m innocent.” She points a long finger in his direction. “It’s you with the ideas. You’re the one who brought it up.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “What kind of logic is that?”
“Something higher than the playground logic that you tend to subscribe to.”
Apparently without a leg to stand on, Alex turns in the other direction from her, walking down the same hallway they just came from fairly aimlessly. The point of course is to get her to drop it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah. Okay. Sure.”
She gives him looks for the rest of the afternoon, and during all further adventures of babysitting (which, unsurprisingly, there are several).
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IV.
“It’s raining.”
“Shut up.”
“No seriously, Alex, it’s raining. Outside. Like…monsoon season raining.”
He stirs and opens his eyes just long enough to get a half-second glance at the clock. “It’s seven in the morning.”
“It’s still raining.”
“You’re full of it.”
“Look out the window.”
“Take a picture,” he replies, with a heavy dose of sarcasm, and then appears to register what she said a few sentences back. “They don’t really have monsoons here; wrong part of the world.”
“Yeah, because I wasn’t forced through an earth science course in high school. Clearly.” She glares, but he’s rolled onto his stomach, his face pushed into the pillow. “It’s an expression.”
He says nothing.
“Alex,” she starts again, this time more annoyed.
This gets him up, as he tosses a pillow that gets in his way onto the floor, his own little hissy fit. She is by now very used to this. “It’s a freaking resort, with the blue skies and the palm trees and the women who like to toast their breasts medium-rare on the beach. It’s not - “ this is right about when his eyes fall on the window she’s been staring out of. “It’s raining.”
“It’s raining,” Izzie echoes her agreement.
“But this is a vacation. If I wanted rain I would’ve stayed in Seattle.”
“Seattle came to us.”
He blinks, as if letting this all sink in. “We’ve barely been out of Washington for years and we get five days off to go somewhere and it rains.”
She doesn’t really need to answer that. It would just make it worse.
There is some frowning, some reluctant checking of the weather forecast, a muttered comment or two that she doesn’t catch, and then - “It’s not going to let up.”
“I figured.”
“Which is where plan B comes in.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
He leans back on his elbows, only half-covered by the sheets, and this is where she gets what he means.
“You’re going to make some sexual innuendo now, aren’t you? And then I’m supposed to jump into bed. I’m pretty sure there’s at least a dozen pornos that start this way.”
Alex doesn’t appear the least bit offended that she called him on it. “Something like that.”
“Okay,” she decides, not all that torn up inside. Lack of romance be damned; the sex more than made up for it.
When his hands find her waist, shifting her onto her back with a noise that sounds a little like a purposely overexaggerated growl, she giggles. “You’re not even going to make me work for it.”
“Oh, no, you’re definitely going to work for it.”
-
V.
“Iowa.”
“Iowa.”
“I told you.”
“Oh, you told me.”
His hands grip the steering wheel noticeably tighter. She wants to slide a hand over one of his, along his arm, something reassuring, but doesn’t.
“Your sister didn’t like me.”
“My sister doesn’t like me. Neither does my brother.”
“Your brother wasn’t there.”
“Yeah, we got lucky.” He takes the exit to the airport and guns it, open road and fresh air streaming in from the windows. “He’s an ass.”
She lets that one go, in favor of: “Well, it’s not like my mother is a bucket of sanity either.”
He gives a snort of laughter that allows the tension to fall out of her shoulders. “They make us look like we turned out okay.”
“Yeah, they do.” And then, on second thought, “We did turn out okay. We are okay.”
“Yeah?” It’s the first time he’s looked at her for more than a second at a time since they left the hotel this morning.
Her answer is the slow slide of her hand over his, the way she twines her fingers with his, and the smile she gives that rivals the sun.
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Thanks hun!
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Why, Shonda? Why?
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I'm glad you liked this hun! Thanks!
shonda = fail
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Glad you liked this! Thanks!
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