Fic: In Which Izzie and Addison Celebrate Christmas (GA, Izzie/Addison, PG)

[scurvyknavery]

Originally posted 21 July, 2006.

Title: In Which Izzie and Addison Celebrate Christmas
Prompt: fox_is_awesome
Pairing: Izzie/Addison implied, George/Meredith friendship
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In George's defense, open heart surgery did nothing to prepare him for the living room after Izzie and Addison.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

It's a week before Christmas. Which means that when George gets home he takes one look at the living room, turns on his heel, and walks straight upstairs to the bathroom. It's closed, of course, but he knocks five times in that special way that's code for "we both know you're not actually in there using the bathroom, open up" and Meredith lets him in.

She's obviously been there for a while, because she's got everything set up. She's reading from a stack of photocopied medical journals sitting to one side of her, highlighter behind her ear, and she's staked out the very best spot on the entire bathroom floor for studying. Which is fair, because she got there first, and George doesn't mind so much because at least Meredith was considerate enough to fish the novel he's been reading out of his room and leave it on the counter next to the sink for him.

"Don't get too comfy," she tells him when he sits down. "Pizza's supposed to be here in ten minutes, and I phoned for it."

So, he has to go pick it up. And that's fair too, but it also means he has to go back down. Where they're doing. . .things. Things that will never let him look at the living room the same way again, no matter how much therapy he tries. George must look at least half as terrified as he feels, because Meredith laughs a little and puts down her reading. "Are they still at it down there?"

George sighs and closes his eyes. Clearly, he wouldn't be hiding in the bathroom if they weren't. "You know, when Izzie started dating Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd, I was worried about lots of things. Whether or not she'd get her heart broken, how it would affect her chances of getting another job at the hospital. . .Dr. Shepherd smothering her with a pillow. . ." Meredith giggles and nods sagely. "What they've done to that room? Wasn't one of my major concerns."

"It is kind of cute, George. You have to admit."

George snorts and rolls his eyes. Ever since Meredith's love life was whittled down to include her and exactly one other person, she's developed this terrible habit of seeing the bright side to everything. "Maybe it was cute an hour ago, when you came home. Now? It's borderline psychotic."

The phone rings, and George starts like he's expecting an axe murderer on the other end of the line. "George?" Meredith holds the receiver to her shoulder and smiles sweetly. "The pizza guy is downstairs."

Dammit.

+++

George should not be nervous. He's a grown man. He's a grown man who's performed nearly unassisted open-heart surgery in an elevator. He's a grown man who's seen both Izzie, and Addison, and several other women before. He's even accidentally walked in on them half-naked in the kitchen before, which was so stressful he couldn't look either of them in the eye for a whole week, but at least it's not something to be afraid of anymore. Yet somehow, the fact that he's lived through all of this and come out the other side is not helping him direct his feet from the bottom of the stairs, past the living room, to the front door.

In his defense, open heart surgery did nothing to prepare him for the living room after Izzie and Addison. A tree that George is pretty sure can't actually fit through the front door is propped up in one corner, absolutely encrusted with lights and tiny glass ornaments. Everything single available surface has something on it that's either reminiscent of a tiny festive workshop or a one-horse open sleigh, from the garlands of little foil stars hanging from the curtain rods to the tiny ceramic snowmen standing watch over each lamp and end table, and they've only been at this for part of an afternoon.

And, well. Then there's the music. Upstairs in the sweet, sweet silence of the bathroom, he'd managed to forget about the music. "George, are you okay?"

The voice is so unexpected and so close behind him he actually jumps in surprise. It's pretty manly.

"Hey, Izzie." He lets his gaze wander away from the Santa hat resting slightly sideways on her head and the huge box of ornaments in her arms. George isn't sure what they're for, because the living room is already packed to the brim with seasonal cheer, but he's not about to ask. "What's - how're you? How's Dr -" he stops himself at the last minute and tries to backtrack. "Addison?"

Izzie looks at him like he's the crazy one, and smiles. "Dr. Addison is great, George. She's just downstairs getting the rest of the boxes." She nods toward the door, where a bored-looking sixteen-year-old is holding a stack of pizza boxes and all but tapping his foot with surly impatience. "I think it's for you."

It's nice that she prompts him, because he'd totally forgotten about everything except plotting an elaborate escape plan that could get him back upstairs to the safety of Meredith and the bathroom. He could probably live there until at least New Year's, if he could talk Callie into bringing him snacks every so often. Now that he remembers, he pulls out his wallet and turns to the pizza boy, trying to tune out the room behind him as Addison comes upstairs.

"That'll be $18.22, sir."

"I've got a surprise for you. . ."

George forks over cash in the smallest bills and most exact change he can possibly manage, praying that he's not hearing what he thinks he's hearing behind him. "So, can I. . .get my pizza?"

"Ooh, mistletoe!"

From over his shoulder, George can hear the telltale sounds of adorable, festive kissing. From the way the delivery kid's eyes are bugging out of his head, there's probably adorable, festive groping as well. He really doesn't want to have to turn around. Ever.

George lifts the pizza out of the poor kid's hands himself, and has to practically shove him out of the way to get the door closed. Izzie and Addison at least have the decency to come up for air when he turns around, trying his best to look at neutral things like the floor in case they've already managed to get naked. Because occasionally, they do that.

Addison's still leaning into Izzie by the time George is facing her, trying to wipe lipstick off of her cheek with one hand. She makes eye contact with George, freezing him to the spot, and smiles like her other hand isn't still halfway up Izzie's shirt. "I didn't see you come in. Hey."

George is working very hard to keep eye contact, and tries his best to smile politely back. "Hi. . .Addison."

Izzie bursts out laughing, which is not, George thinks, what a best friend should do when he's clearly just about ready to curl up into a ball and die of embarrassment. And then she arches into Addison's hand, which is still up her shirt thank you very much, and that's definitely not something she should be doing in front of her best friend.

Addison turns to Izzie. "You didn't tell me you were ordering pizza."

Izzie laughs even harder, and plants a kiss on Addison's nose that jingles the sleigh bells on a string around Addison's neck. "I didn't. It's for him and Meredith." George coughs, forcefully, and Izzie turns away from leaning in to keep kissing Addison to shoot him a glare. "They're hiding in the bathroom."

Addison actually has the nerve to look genuinely confused. Like it's not a natural human reaction to hide from the two handsiest, Christmassiest doctors in the entire hospital, now that they've somehow managed to combine their inappropriately sexual festive cheer by dating each other. "Oh. Okay, well. Have fun in the bathroom, O'Malley."

George manages a weak smile, and bolts upstairs before something worse can happen. As he slams the bathroom door shut behind him and sinks down to the floor Meredith steals the pizza box from his hands. "Took you long enough."

He snatches it back and starts in on the biggest slice he can find before it gets too cold. "I didn't see you volunteering to go down there and get it."

"I already called for it. It was your turn."

"You know," George says, around a mouthful of pepperoni and extra cheese, "I thought maybe this year, 'cause she's not all depressed over Alex, she wouldn't be as bad."

Meredith nods, and leans her head against George's shoulder. "She's worse?"

"And she has Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd, which is like having a second Izzie who sometimes grabs Izzie's boobs."

Meredith laughs then, in that bright, happy way that would've made his knees weak a year ago. Now, he just strokes her hair and lets himself feel relief that she's happy enough to laugh like that. And tries to suppress any lingering bitterness that she wasn't the one to go downstairs and endure the inappropriate touching. "Oh, George." There's a long silence as he finishes his slice, and George is surprised to realize that it's actually a comfortable one. "Well, hey, look on the bright side."

George closes his eyes, willing her with all his energy not to say what he thinks she's about to say. "At least next year, she can't be any worse."

He leans his head against the soothing coolness of the bathtub and sighs. They are so screwed.