FIC::Grey's Anatomy::Baileys No Good, Very Bad, Horrible Day
Title: Bailey's No Good, Very Bad, Horrible Day (Or How When Addison is Drugged, Everyone Suffers)
Author: hyacinthian
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: So this is crack fic, ladies and gents. Yes. The idea was borne out of slight effort. (Read: Me having an anxiety attack about college plus a glazed donut and coffee) And executed with much difficulty. (All of Addison's dialogue came painstakingly from my brother having to hold his tongue and recite her lines, much to his disdain.) Also, the last line is from Zoe in Serenity (the pilot).
Summary: What do you get with a drugged Addison? Lots and lots and lots of trouble. But wait! There's more! Also included: Mark and Derek wrestling followed up with bouts of uncontrollable laughter. And unamused Bailey.
Addison's eyes were fuzzy. No...no, wait. She got this. Hang on. Her visor was fuzzy. Her vizier? Wasn't that what Jafar's job was in Aladdin? No. She shook her head. Focus. Someone handed her a small cup. She took a sip out of the straw. Her throat felt raw.
"It should clear in a bit." She knew that voice. Warm. Strong. Manly.
"...awuh?" She heard something akin to a stifled chuckle.
"Addison, do you remember anything?"
"...erweh." Okay. This was beginning to get ridiculous. Maybe it already was ridiculous. Something. She was starting to sound like a beached whale. Or walrus. Or something. Sea creature.
"There was a man--a fugitive. He came into the hospital. He took you hostage in the exam room." She heard concern peek into his voice. He cleared his throat.
"...ewe kahr?" Her vision started to clear. She could start to make out the fuzzy form beside her--whites mixed with browns and soft blues. She felt his fingers on her hand, their comforting touch. He became less pixelated. Mark.
"He...uh...stabbed you when the hostage thing went south. We got you, though. Took care of you." He stopped for a moment and there was nothing but the sensation of his fingers on her skin. "And I imagine you're still a bit doped up."
She smiled up at him. "Nope," she tried, pouting at the time it took to say the simple word. "Naaah me."
He laughed. "Are you feeling better though?"
"Ell bit," she said. "Fehl lek I it tumuc p'na burr." She watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"What?"
"Fehl lek I it tumuc p'na burr," she repeated, slightly frustrated. She watched his face, stoic--watched his cheeks as they started to twitch before he burst out into a full laugh. "Nah funny."
"Very funny." She smiled a bit at his finally having understood her. "I'm glad you're back, Add."
"Ohh, Mah, es ohay." She watched as he squinted. "Es ohay." He still stared at her. She jabbed at herself with her index finger viciously, and then made a symbol that meant "all good."
"Oh," he said.
"Eh, oh," she replied.
"Do you need anything?"
"Ah ahdi sethdive."
He pursed his lips. "Something sedative?"
She nodded. "Ahdi," she repeated. "Ahdi." She stared off, lost in thought. "Ehguess."
Derek walked into the room, holding a clipboard, looking amused. "Against, Mark."
"Oh!" Mark's face lit up with recognition. He broke out into a full grin. "Sorry, Doctor. We don't disperse anti-sedatives here."
"Thewik, fehl lek hrap."
He smirked. "You'll be fine. You've been through a lot." She stared up at the golden lights, watched as little golden rays reflected off of the silver tab of his clipboard.
"Ettle endells." Her hand flew and swung at the seemingly freefloating orbs of pure light. "Priddi." Derek and Mark shared a look of pure confusion.
"I imagine it's the drugs."
"Oh, I really hope so."
"Where's a video camera when you need one?"
"I know. We could YouTube this."
"Youwhat?"
"YouTube?"
"What in the hell is that?"
"Oh, c'mon, Derek, get with the times." Derek sputtered at him.
"You're older than me!" Mark rolled his eyes.
"By like two weeks."
"Nuh-uh."
"Yeah. And it's not my fault you were always older in mind."
"Hey!"
"Better start ringing up the AARP now, my friend. Good hair does not last you til Doomsday."
"Hey!" Derek pursed his lips. "I wouldn't be talking if I were you. Mr. I'm-So-Good-Looking-And-All-The-Ladies-Want-Me!"
"Excuse me," Mark said with mock pretentiousness. "I'm not the one they call me McDreamy, am I? Am I the one they expect to come in on a white horse with a sword that I can barely lift with my feeble, unmuscular arms and slay the dragon and save the day?" He imitated a fanfare.
"You are ridiculous."
"Youthfully so."
"Shut up."
"Sure, Sir."
"Oh my God."
"Well, I heard you were offered Chief."
"I turned it down!"
"So? You were offered the position, so rightfully, you are still the prime Chief nomination who supersedes little old me." He paused, a twinkle in his eye. "Sir."
"Mark..."
"Sir, I'm sorry. Did I speak out of turn?"
"I will pick up a sword with my woefully unmuscular arms and beat you over the head with it."
"Shall I go fetch you a Krispy Kreme to feed your woefully unmuscular arms, sir?"
"I'm going to beat you up."
"Oh, Sir, I relish the day," he said, laughing. He stopped for a moment to compose himself, and turned to Derek with a somber face. "If you punched me sir, I'd never wash my face. Ever again. It would taint the purity and virility of Sir's touch. Sir."
Derek laughed and swung an arm around Mark's neck, placing him in a choke hold. The door swung open.
"What in the hell is going on in here?"
Derek looked up. "Dr. Bailey."
She looked at him, and then at Mark. "Dr. Shepherd. Dr. Sloan. You mind telling me what the hell you two are doing in here?"
"Dr. Shepherd here was nominated for Chief, as you may well have heard," Mark rasped out. "And he's still an attending, so please don't yell at us."
Derek turned to face Mark. "Yeah, I may be older in spirit, but at least I don't act like a five-year-old boy who broke Mommy's favorite vase."
"Oh, shut up."
"Okay," Bailey said with resoluteness in her voice. "I am going to turn around. I am going to walk out of here. I will walk back in. And you will be normal. You will not be channeling the spirit of my future children. You understand me? Sir."
"Oh, Maranna! Kha oo zoin da pahdy?"
The smaller woman turned to face the redhead who was propped up against her pillows with her fists clenched, beaming. "Addison, you all right?"
"Maranna, cahm heah," Addison whispered conspiratorially. Bailey reluctantly followed. "Ook, cat feathies!" She opened her fist. "Ey speckle!"
Bailey arched an eyebrow. "Speckle?" She turned to face Derek and Mark.
"She caught fairies," Derek started, face twitching with laughter.
"They sparkle," Mark finished, covering his mouth with his fist.
It took a whole two seconds before they both burst into laughter, faces contorting painfully. It took them another eight minutes for them to compose themselves. They kept retreating to fits of giggles.
Oh, Bailey thought, as she headed back out towards the pit, bad things happened when Addison was out of commission. Exceptionally bad things happened. World endingly bad things happened.
Their greatest neurosurgeon and their greatest plastic surgeon were clutching each other, doubled over in absolute hysterics over the behavior of their greatest, and the country's greatest, neo-natal surgeon, who was under heavy sedatives.
Bailey turned towards the pit to find it full. "Oh, yeah," she murmured under her breath. "This is going to go great."
Author: hyacinthian
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: So this is crack fic, ladies and gents. Yes. The idea was borne out of slight effort. (Read: Me having an anxiety attack about college plus a glazed donut and coffee) And executed with much difficulty. (All of Addison's dialogue came painstakingly from my brother having to hold his tongue and recite her lines, much to his disdain.) Also, the last line is from Zoe in Serenity (the pilot).
Summary: What do you get with a drugged Addison? Lots and lots and lots of trouble. But wait! There's more! Also included: Mark and Derek wrestling followed up with bouts of uncontrollable laughter. And unamused Bailey.
Addison's eyes were fuzzy. No...no, wait. She got this. Hang on. Her visor was fuzzy. Her vizier? Wasn't that what Jafar's job was in Aladdin? No. She shook her head. Focus. Someone handed her a small cup. She took a sip out of the straw. Her throat felt raw.
"It should clear in a bit." She knew that voice. Warm. Strong. Manly.
"...awuh?" She heard something akin to a stifled chuckle.
"Addison, do you remember anything?"
"...erweh." Okay. This was beginning to get ridiculous. Maybe it already was ridiculous. Something. She was starting to sound like a beached whale. Or walrus. Or something. Sea creature.
"There was a man--a fugitive. He came into the hospital. He took you hostage in the exam room." She heard concern peek into his voice. He cleared his throat.
"...ewe kahr?" Her vision started to clear. She could start to make out the fuzzy form beside her--whites mixed with browns and soft blues. She felt his fingers on her hand, their comforting touch. He became less pixelated. Mark.
"He...uh...stabbed you when the hostage thing went south. We got you, though. Took care of you." He stopped for a moment and there was nothing but the sensation of his fingers on her skin. "And I imagine you're still a bit doped up."
She smiled up at him. "Nope," she tried, pouting at the time it took to say the simple word. "Naaah me."
He laughed. "Are you feeling better though?"
"Ell bit," she said. "Fehl lek I it tumuc p'na burr." She watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"What?"
"Fehl lek I it tumuc p'na burr," she repeated, slightly frustrated. She watched his face, stoic--watched his cheeks as they started to twitch before he burst out into a full laugh. "Nah funny."
"Very funny." She smiled a bit at his finally having understood her. "I'm glad you're back, Add."
"Ohh, Mah, es ohay." She watched as he squinted. "Es ohay." He still stared at her. She jabbed at herself with her index finger viciously, and then made a symbol that meant "all good."
"Oh," he said.
"Eh, oh," she replied.
"Do you need anything?"
"Ah ahdi sethdive."
He pursed his lips. "Something sedative?"
She nodded. "Ahdi," she repeated. "Ahdi." She stared off, lost in thought. "Ehguess."
Derek walked into the room, holding a clipboard, looking amused. "Against, Mark."
"Oh!" Mark's face lit up with recognition. He broke out into a full grin. "Sorry, Doctor. We don't disperse anti-sedatives here."
"Thewik, fehl lek hrap."
He smirked. "You'll be fine. You've been through a lot." She stared up at the golden lights, watched as little golden rays reflected off of the silver tab of his clipboard.
"Ettle endells." Her hand flew and swung at the seemingly freefloating orbs of pure light. "Priddi." Derek and Mark shared a look of pure confusion.
"I imagine it's the drugs."
"Oh, I really hope so."
"Where's a video camera when you need one?"
"I know. We could YouTube this."
"Youwhat?"
"YouTube?"
"What in the hell is that?"
"Oh, c'mon, Derek, get with the times." Derek sputtered at him.
"You're older than me!" Mark rolled his eyes.
"By like two weeks."
"Nuh-uh."
"Yeah. And it's not my fault you were always older in mind."
"Hey!"
"Better start ringing up the AARP now, my friend. Good hair does not last you til Doomsday."
"Hey!" Derek pursed his lips. "I wouldn't be talking if I were you. Mr. I'm-So-Good-Looking-And-All-The-Ladies-Want-Me!"
"Excuse me," Mark said with mock pretentiousness. "I'm not the one they call me McDreamy, am I? Am I the one they expect to come in on a white horse with a sword that I can barely lift with my feeble, unmuscular arms and slay the dragon and save the day?" He imitated a fanfare.
"You are ridiculous."
"Youthfully so."
"Shut up."
"Sure, Sir."
"Oh my God."
"Well, I heard you were offered Chief."
"I turned it down!"
"So? You were offered the position, so rightfully, you are still the prime Chief nomination who supersedes little old me." He paused, a twinkle in his eye. "Sir."
"Mark..."
"Sir, I'm sorry. Did I speak out of turn?"
"I will pick up a sword with my woefully unmuscular arms and beat you over the head with it."
"Shall I go fetch you a Krispy Kreme to feed your woefully unmuscular arms, sir?"
"I'm going to beat you up."
"Oh, Sir, I relish the day," he said, laughing. He stopped for a moment to compose himself, and turned to Derek with a somber face. "If you punched me sir, I'd never wash my face. Ever again. It would taint the purity and virility of Sir's touch. Sir."
Derek laughed and swung an arm around Mark's neck, placing him in a choke hold. The door swung open.
"What in the hell is going on in here?"
Derek looked up. "Dr. Bailey."
She looked at him, and then at Mark. "Dr. Shepherd. Dr. Sloan. You mind telling me what the hell you two are doing in here?"
"Dr. Shepherd here was nominated for Chief, as you may well have heard," Mark rasped out. "And he's still an attending, so please don't yell at us."
Derek turned to face Mark. "Yeah, I may be older in spirit, but at least I don't act like a five-year-old boy who broke Mommy's favorite vase."
"Oh, shut up."
"Okay," Bailey said with resoluteness in her voice. "I am going to turn around. I am going to walk out of here. I will walk back in. And you will be normal. You will not be channeling the spirit of my future children. You understand me? Sir."
"Oh, Maranna! Kha oo zoin da pahdy?"
The smaller woman turned to face the redhead who was propped up against her pillows with her fists clenched, beaming. "Addison, you all right?"
"Maranna, cahm heah," Addison whispered conspiratorially. Bailey reluctantly followed. "Ook, cat feathies!" She opened her fist. "Ey speckle!"
Bailey arched an eyebrow. "Speckle?" She turned to face Derek and Mark.
"She caught fairies," Derek started, face twitching with laughter.
"They sparkle," Mark finished, covering his mouth with his fist.
It took a whole two seconds before they both burst into laughter, faces contorting painfully. It took them another eight minutes for them to compose themselves. They kept retreating to fits of giggles.
Oh, Bailey thought, as she headed back out towards the pit, bad things happened when Addison was out of commission. Exceptionally bad things happened. World endingly bad things happened.
Their greatest neurosurgeon and their greatest plastic surgeon were clutching each other, doubled over in absolute hysterics over the behavior of their greatest, and the country's greatest, neo-natal surgeon, who was under heavy sedatives.
Bailey turned towards the pit to find it full. "Oh, yeah," she murmured under her breath. "This is going to go great."