The Way to Anyone's Heart by chicleeblair PG
Title: The Way to Anyone's Heart
Author chicleeblair
Recipient: troatie
Pairing(s): Addison/Izzie
Rating: PG
Summary: Izzie bakes. Izzie bakes in Addison's kitchen in LA, and Addison isn't sure why.
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is not mine; I am making no profit
A/N: Here it is! I always seem to end up writing Addie/Izzie for only greys_exchange , and here I am writing for troatie , whose Addison/Izzie is amazing, so I hope this is decent!
She baked for her. Addison had never had anyone bake just for her, and so she did not ask questions. On the first night, she padded out of the bedroom in bare feet and pajama pants when the slamming noises in the kitchen woke her.
She first she first saw the flash of blonde hair, pulled up into a messy bun with a straining elastic. As she turned into the kitchen, she saw the bowls and boxes all over her kitchen, and Izzie, clad in pink pajama pants and a black tank top, with her back to her, furiously stirring. Addison tilted her head and walked further into the room, pulled out a chair and sat at the table, waiting.
Izzie did not look up at her as she poured batter into a pan, did not look at her as she brushed flour spattered hair out of her eyes and loaded the pan into the oven, and did not come over and sit down until every box was back in its cabinet and bowls and cups and other utensils that Addison has not used since she bought them at Crate&Barrel back in their spots. Then she pulled out the chair next to Addison and sat, dropping her head onto her hands.
“Brownies,” she murmured.
“Sounds good,” Addison said.
In the morning, she found Izzie sound asleep on the couch, brownies pilled into a basket by the door. Addison handed them out at work and came home to find a similarly placed basket of muffins.
It took three more rounds, cupcakes, cookies and brownies again, before Addison risked questioning her houseguest’s behavior.
“Izzie,” she said, after they polished off a pile of Chinese takeout and Izzie stood up and pulled out the flour. “You have baked every night since you got here, and you are here in the first place. What is going on?”
Izzie held the container of flour between two hands, seeming to wonder if she should put it back. Instead, she spun around and placed it onto the counter, but then came back to regain her seat.
“I… I had two weeks off. The interns are about to rise up, and so the Chief gave us time off as a kind of…reward for our first interns surviving. It’s what makes you realize that the attendings really could handle the hospital without their minions.”
Addison laughed.
“So… I came here. And I am baking because…I bake.”
“Really?” Addison raised her eyebrows. Izzie was not meeting her eyes, and she was absolutely positive that there was more to it. Izzie nodded, but as she did the elastic in her hair popped and her long blonde hair cascaded down over her bare shoulders. For some reason, this made Addison shiver.
“Really,” Izzie said. Addison was unconvinced, but Izzie had stood up and began to pull other things out of the cabinet. Addison watched flour, sugar, eggs and other baking materials appear. She watched as Izzie poured, stirred and mixed. There was ferocity to each movement. Izzie’s mouth was set in a line. She fought against her hair as it fell into her eyes, until Addison got up to go to her room and find another hairband for her.
As she searched through her drawers, pushing past clips and pins, she wondered about this intense baking. This was not the Izzie who bounced into the break-room before she was of a seniority to enter and held a basket out to the open door. That girl was so perky and peppy that it made Addsion smile, and also hate her a little for being so perky on so little sleep. But this was not that.
She wondered if this was what she might have noticed had she not been so engaged with her own problems while Izzie was dealing with the death of her fiancée. Addison’s last memory of that martini sodden afternoon, was, after all biting into a muffin from a basket of Izzie’s. When she thought very hard, she saw an image of a pale, broken Izzie standing in the doorway of the bar, clad in that sweater. It made her heart clench when she thought of her dirty, drunken self so oblivious to the other’s needs. And yet Izzie had been aware of hers. Hadn’t she told Joe to make sure she didn’t drive?
“Here,” Addison said, coming up behind Izzie, whose hands were wrist deep in the mixing bowl. Addison gathered her hair up for her, and pulled it into a ponytail. The motions felt familiar, and it does not really surprise either of them that Izzie leaned against her slightly.
“I…I missed you,” Izzie murmured. Her head fell and she began against to stir, almost violently.
Addison reached around and grabbed her arm, stopping her. “I missed you too.” She turned her head and Izzie met her halfway. Their lips clashed, and it was familiar, achingly so. Addison sucked and licked and knew that nothing was more right.
And then she stopped. She pulled back, her hand on Izzie’s shoulder. “We have to talk,” she whispered.
Izzie nodded. “Let me finish.” She moved the wooden spoon more slowly around the bowl. Addison dipped a finger into the mixture, then stuck the finger into her mouth. This has both effects that she desired, first of all the chance to taste the batter which she loves and has not done through any of the rest of the baking, and it also made Izzie smile.
She would not leave the kitchen until Izzie meticulously cleaned the kitchen, afraid that Izzie would disappear off to the spare bedroom and then disappear back to Seattle. So Addison sat at the table, perusing a medical journal and sipping on a glass of wine.
Eventually, Izzie came and sat down, folding her hands in front of her, and as Addison capped her highlighter she began to speak. “George is with Meredith’s sister. And they work together. They work together in a way that he and I didn’t. We were best friends, still are in some ways, but they are more than that. They compliment each other.
“I was with Alex for a while. A few months. It was…good. I mean. We worked, I thought. He has this incredibly sweet side.”
“I know,” Addison said. Izzie nodded. It was the only time they had ever and would ever speak of the fact that both had been with Alex Karev.
“But he’s so…scared. And skittish. And I had to work so hard. So I thought, shouldn’t you have to do that, in all relationships? But I never did with you. Or with Denny, but he was a patient, it was hard to have any real problems with the exception of the very huge problem of his heart. So I thought, how could I be happy. And the answer was, with you. But I did not know how to say it. So I tried to find a way.”
“So you baked?”
“So I baked.”
Addison nodded, and then pulled off her glasses. She pyramided her hands and rested the tip of her nose on the top of her fingers.
“Izzie… It would be lying to say that I did not miss you. I missed everything about you. Your smile, your smell, your sense of humor. Everything. But I am not the same as I was in Seattle. The woman you… the woman I was… I’m different.”
Izzie smiled, but her eyes were sad. “I’m different too, Addison. I’m not as happy, or peppy or any of the things you used to make fun of. People change, but I think… I think we would still be good for each other.”
“You’ll be here another week.”
“Yes.”
“So maybe we could…try it.”
“Okay.”
Addison nodded slowly, but as she did Izzie stood and came over to her, straddling her. Addison was taken aback. Izzie’s breasts brushed hers, and she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Addison.
Addison’s jeans had been unbuttoned by the time the timer buzzed on the oven. Izzie smirked at Addison’s scowl when she stood to open the oven. “Oh, I’ll be back,” she murmured. She was true to her word.
The week was not easy. They stumbled around each other, rediscovering habits, realigning themselves to each other. It was trued that Izzie was no longer as ebullient as before, and Addison missed it. She was prone to dark looks and pessimistic utterings on occasion.
Both of them, though, knew that it was right. At the end of the week, Addison flew to Seattle with her. Neither one moved, they flitted back and forth between cities, dreading the weeks apart. Eventually, Izzie took a fellowship in LA. No one was surprised. Addison would admit though, later, that it always threw her whenever she came across Meredith Grey, George O’Malley and Cristina Yang in her apartment, visiting Izzie. There was something horribly ironic about her attempts to escape Seattle leading to Seattle escaping to her.
Author chicleeblair
Recipient: troatie
Pairing(s): Addison/Izzie
Rating: PG
Summary: Izzie bakes. Izzie bakes in Addison's kitchen in LA, and Addison isn't sure why.
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is not mine; I am making no profit
A/N: Here it is! I always seem to end up writing Addie/Izzie for only greys_exchange , and here I am writing for troatie , whose Addison/Izzie is amazing, so I hope this is decent!
She baked for her. Addison had never had anyone bake just for her, and so she did not ask questions. On the first night, she padded out of the bedroom in bare feet and pajama pants when the slamming noises in the kitchen woke her.
She first she first saw the flash of blonde hair, pulled up into a messy bun with a straining elastic. As she turned into the kitchen, she saw the bowls and boxes all over her kitchen, and Izzie, clad in pink pajama pants and a black tank top, with her back to her, furiously stirring. Addison tilted her head and walked further into the room, pulled out a chair and sat at the table, waiting.
Izzie did not look up at her as she poured batter into a pan, did not look at her as she brushed flour spattered hair out of her eyes and loaded the pan into the oven, and did not come over and sit down until every box was back in its cabinet and bowls and cups and other utensils that Addison has not used since she bought them at Crate&Barrel back in their spots. Then she pulled out the chair next to Addison and sat, dropping her head onto her hands.
“Brownies,” she murmured.
“Sounds good,” Addison said.
In the morning, she found Izzie sound asleep on the couch, brownies pilled into a basket by the door. Addison handed them out at work and came home to find a similarly placed basket of muffins.
It took three more rounds, cupcakes, cookies and brownies again, before Addison risked questioning her houseguest’s behavior.
“Izzie,” she said, after they polished off a pile of Chinese takeout and Izzie stood up and pulled out the flour. “You have baked every night since you got here, and you are here in the first place. What is going on?”
Izzie held the container of flour between two hands, seeming to wonder if she should put it back. Instead, she spun around and placed it onto the counter, but then came back to regain her seat.
“I… I had two weeks off. The interns are about to rise up, and so the Chief gave us time off as a kind of…reward for our first interns surviving. It’s what makes you realize that the attendings really could handle the hospital without their minions.”
Addison laughed.
“So… I came here. And I am baking because…I bake.”
“Really?” Addison raised her eyebrows. Izzie was not meeting her eyes, and she was absolutely positive that there was more to it. Izzie nodded, but as she did the elastic in her hair popped and her long blonde hair cascaded down over her bare shoulders. For some reason, this made Addison shiver.
“Really,” Izzie said. Addison was unconvinced, but Izzie had stood up and began to pull other things out of the cabinet. Addison watched flour, sugar, eggs and other baking materials appear. She watched as Izzie poured, stirred and mixed. There was ferocity to each movement. Izzie’s mouth was set in a line. She fought against her hair as it fell into her eyes, until Addison got up to go to her room and find another hairband for her.
As she searched through her drawers, pushing past clips and pins, she wondered about this intense baking. This was not the Izzie who bounced into the break-room before she was of a seniority to enter and held a basket out to the open door. That girl was so perky and peppy that it made Addsion smile, and also hate her a little for being so perky on so little sleep. But this was not that.
She wondered if this was what she might have noticed had she not been so engaged with her own problems while Izzie was dealing with the death of her fiancée. Addison’s last memory of that martini sodden afternoon, was, after all biting into a muffin from a basket of Izzie’s. When she thought very hard, she saw an image of a pale, broken Izzie standing in the doorway of the bar, clad in that sweater. It made her heart clench when she thought of her dirty, drunken self so oblivious to the other’s needs. And yet Izzie had been aware of hers. Hadn’t she told Joe to make sure she didn’t drive?
“Here,” Addison said, coming up behind Izzie, whose hands were wrist deep in the mixing bowl. Addison gathered her hair up for her, and pulled it into a ponytail. The motions felt familiar, and it does not really surprise either of them that Izzie leaned against her slightly.
“I…I missed you,” Izzie murmured. Her head fell and she began against to stir, almost violently.
Addison reached around and grabbed her arm, stopping her. “I missed you too.” She turned her head and Izzie met her halfway. Their lips clashed, and it was familiar, achingly so. Addison sucked and licked and knew that nothing was more right.
And then she stopped. She pulled back, her hand on Izzie’s shoulder. “We have to talk,” she whispered.
Izzie nodded. “Let me finish.” She moved the wooden spoon more slowly around the bowl. Addison dipped a finger into the mixture, then stuck the finger into her mouth. This has both effects that she desired, first of all the chance to taste the batter which she loves and has not done through any of the rest of the baking, and it also made Izzie smile.
She would not leave the kitchen until Izzie meticulously cleaned the kitchen, afraid that Izzie would disappear off to the spare bedroom and then disappear back to Seattle. So Addison sat at the table, perusing a medical journal and sipping on a glass of wine.
Eventually, Izzie came and sat down, folding her hands in front of her, and as Addison capped her highlighter she began to speak. “George is with Meredith’s sister. And they work together. They work together in a way that he and I didn’t. We were best friends, still are in some ways, but they are more than that. They compliment each other.
“I was with Alex for a while. A few months. It was…good. I mean. We worked, I thought. He has this incredibly sweet side.”
“I know,” Addison said. Izzie nodded. It was the only time they had ever and would ever speak of the fact that both had been with Alex Karev.
“But he’s so…scared. And skittish. And I had to work so hard. So I thought, shouldn’t you have to do that, in all relationships? But I never did with you. Or with Denny, but he was a patient, it was hard to have any real problems with the exception of the very huge problem of his heart. So I thought, how could I be happy. And the answer was, with you. But I did not know how to say it. So I tried to find a way.”
“So you baked?”
“So I baked.”
Addison nodded, and then pulled off her glasses. She pyramided her hands and rested the tip of her nose on the top of her fingers.
“Izzie… It would be lying to say that I did not miss you. I missed everything about you. Your smile, your smell, your sense of humor. Everything. But I am not the same as I was in Seattle. The woman you… the woman I was… I’m different.”
Izzie smiled, but her eyes were sad. “I’m different too, Addison. I’m not as happy, or peppy or any of the things you used to make fun of. People change, but I think… I think we would still be good for each other.”
“You’ll be here another week.”
“Yes.”
“So maybe we could…try it.”
“Okay.”
Addison nodded slowly, but as she did Izzie stood and came over to her, straddling her. Addison was taken aback. Izzie’s breasts brushed hers, and she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Addison.
Addison’s jeans had been unbuttoned by the time the timer buzzed on the oven. Izzie smirked at Addison’s scowl when she stood to open the oven. “Oh, I’ll be back,” she murmured. She was true to her word.
The week was not easy. They stumbled around each other, rediscovering habits, realigning themselves to each other. It was trued that Izzie was no longer as ebullient as before, and Addison missed it. She was prone to dark looks and pessimistic utterings on occasion.
Both of them, though, knew that it was right. At the end of the week, Addison flew to Seattle with her. Neither one moved, they flitted back and forth between cities, dreading the weeks apart. Eventually, Izzie took a fellowship in LA. No one was surprised. Addison would admit though, later, that it always threw her whenever she came across Meredith Grey, George O’Malley and Cristina Yang in her apartment, visiting Izzie. There was something horribly ironic about her attempts to escape Seattle leading to Seattle escaping to her.