A/N: See what happens when you leave me alone at night, bored - I go off and find other things to do, other couples to obsess over, and this is the result. Okay, so this is a Grey's Anatomy fic, probably a one shot, but there is a possibility it could turn into more. It all depends upon how well it is received, my level of inspiration, and the amount of free time I have. PLEASE be gentle. This is my first fan fiction that is not related to Ryan and Marissa, and I'm very nervous about putting this out there. Be forewarned, this is ever-so-slightly spoilerish, but the spoilers are so minute, you might not even recognize them as spoilers. Now, about the story in itself, it is a future piece, possibly slightly AU, but it could happen with the current storyline. Well, here goes nothing. ENJOY!

Stretching out her long, lithe limbs luxuriously, ah, the beauty of four star hotels, she thought to herself, Addison relished the fact that it was a new day, a lovely, mistake free, new day. She was off, so there was no need to go to work, no need to face the immature gossip and ridiculous relationships that took precedence over the patients and their best interests. Perhaps she'd actually be able to spend some time with real adults not junior high teenagers. Smiling to herself, she groaned softly as she realized her whole body was sore….sex sore. Suddenly, a rude, annoying chuckle disturbed the peace of her hotel room. That laugh was familiar; she knew that condescending voice.

Sitting up in bed, she clutched the high thread count sheet tightly to her body as her eyes came in contact with the very person she had feared was there, the very last person she should be with would want to be with, Alex, and he was just calmly eating a rather decadent breakfast, a smirk on his face even as he chewed.

"What the hell are you doing," she asked indignantly.

"I'm eating, what does it look like," he shot back at her, his sarcasm eroding away her embarrassment and replacing it with anger. "Thanks for breakfast, by the way," he added smugly. "I charged it to your room service bill."

Sighing loudly, Addison laid back down in bed, her back towards Alex. "You're an ass," she said quietly, her voice biting and rude, anything to drive him out of her hotel room.

"And you're a bitch," he shot back undeterred. "I'm going to go and take a shower." Putting down the room service tray on the floor beside his side of the bed, Alex stood up and made his way to the bathroom.

Unable to help herself, Addison snuck a glance in his direction. How he was dressed would tell her exactly what they had done the night before. Well that answers that question, she thought to herself as she saw him walk completely nude into her ensuite, not even bothering to shut the door. God, how much did I drink last night? Headache free, no other hangover symptoms in sight, she knew she had sunk to a new low.

Here she was Addison Montgomery-Shepherd, soon to be just Addison Montgomery again, a respected doctor, and she was at the point where she drank so much she didn't even get hangovers any longer. Well, she mocked herself, that's what happens when your husband cheats on you and goes back to his mistress…a mistress he had in the first place because you had an affair with his best friend.

Not wanting to think about her troubles, her soon-to-be ex-husband, or the fact that her mistake free day was already ruined, she closed her eyes, shut down her mind, and turned off her heart, pulling the blankets back over her head resolving that she would sleep the day away….at least for a while. Later, she'd get up and proceed to drink the night away. Ten minutes later, however, she was still awake and her thoughts were anything but peaceful. Alex was still in the shower, whistling arrogantly to her utter horror and embarrassment because obviously it had been a very good night for him, and she was trying, in vain, to figure out just exactly how this whole debacle had occurred. And then, just like that, as his whistling turned to singing, a song that instantly shot flashbacks into her mind, it was crystal clear.

Why was it that work Christmas parties always revolved around alcohol? They either took place in a bar where the liquor tab would be paid by the bosses, most of which would not even bother showing up or, and this was even worse, they would be held in a hotel with a free bar, a hotel where a swipe of a credit card and a quick ride in an elevator could take you to a room where the party would be forgotten, the alcohol would take over, and you would wake up the next morning in a strange bed and with an even stranger bed partner. Hotels were just too convenient for mischief to occur but bars weren't much better. Their party had been in a bar.

Apparently, she noticed as she nursed her third…no fourth…maybe fifth drink that evening, everyone who worked at the hospital had been invited from the janitor to the chief, but, luckily, because not everyone would be able to fit into Joe's at once, they came in shifts if they came at all. Some would come on their breaks for a quick bite to eat leaving the alcohol to those who needed it more while others, dressed much too fancy for a work Christmas party and probably headed somewhere better, would stop by briefly with their significant other dangling on their arm, seemingly doing so to remind her that she, Addison Montgomery-Shepherd at least for another month, was alone.

It was okay though. By this point, Joe knew to keep the drinks coming. If she had some alcohol in front of her to keep her distracted, she wouldn't cause a scene, so that's what he did. Her drinks never varied either; there was no variety. Always vodka, it might not taste well but it did the job, it only took a few drinks to numb the pain she lived with every day. So by the time the party was really starting to swell with people, noise, and an annoying abundance of green and red, she was already drunk and everything seemed amusing.

She really couldn't remember why she had decided to come to the party; she sure as hell wasn't in a very festive mood, but it at least was better than staying in her room at the hotel all night getting drunk there, alone. At least here there was the impression that she was not hiding from society. So she remained, slowly drinking the entire time, and mocked those around here, the innocent and naïve that she worked with, people she knew and ones she didn't. Her favorite sources for scorn were the happy couples. It wouldn't last for long she told them silently in her mind. One of you will fuck up, ruin your relationship, and the other will be too proud, too moralistic, too not in love with you to forgive your indiscretion…or they'll just go off and hurt you in return, breaking you in the process.

Despite her dour mood, she enjoyed the night. The music was cheesy and fun reminding her of college parties and days when men could not hurt her, the alcohol was free and flowing, and sitting in a dark corner of the bar, the shadows merely enhancing her mystery and allure, she knew she looked damn good. If she had to see her…see them together tonight, she was at least going to look her best. They hung out here, were friends with Joe, so there was no doubt in Addison's mind that they would show up at the party, probably with their whole entourage of equally happy, in love friends, and ruin her alcohol induce buzz. She was not wrong, but was she ever?

As soon as they walked into the bar, their arms, as always, around each other, their hands constantly seeking contact with the others body, she knew something was different. They both looked the same, neither had changed their appearance at all, they did arrive with their friends, and they all seemed happy, completely sober and happy, but there was something different. So, hidden away in her dark, isolated corner with her shot after shot of vodka, she watched them, her eyes, despite the liquor, observant and quick.

They all got something to eat, settling with eggnog for their drink, and sat down together at a large, makeshift table as they pulled three smaller ones together, talking boisterously and laughing together merrily, all in good moods and lost in their own worlds. None of them stayed long though, probably because they all had lives. One would slip out alone, begging leave to attend another party they had been invited to, or a couple would sneak off for some alone time, eventually just leaving three, him, her, and the only one who had noticed she was there at all.

She knew he was watching her, but she didn't care, because she was still absorbed with watching them, with finding out what was so different about them. When they stood up from the table she assumed they were leaving, but, instead, they leisurely made their way to the dance floor, his arms encircling her waist and pulling her close while her arms wound their way around his neck, her hands tangling themselves in his hair. Moving slowly, seductively, effortlessly across the small dance floor, they became lost in each other.

Perhaps nothing was different between them. Maybe she had just been overreacting, letting the alcohol affect her more than she thought, but then, as their bodies circled around and the back of his head came into view, a head which had her hands snaked playfully around the base of his neck, she saw what she had been fearing all night: an engagement ring. Before she knew what was happening, she had been jerked to her feet, her latest glass of vodka placed in her hand, and was being dragged onto the dance floor, submitting to the forceful actions rather easily and without a fight.

"Come with me," Alex ordered none too gently. "You're not going to make a fool out of yourself, not for him, not again." Holding her closely, tightly, too close and too tight she realized but didn't care, Alex started dancing with her. They were out of the shadows enough to be seen but not blatantly in the middle of the dance floor to draw attention to themselves. "Keep drinking," he said roughly, a drink in his own hand as well. "It'll help you forget."

And so she did. She drank and she danced and she drank some more long after her soon-to-be-ex and his new fiancé left the bar, long after the party had ended, and long after she could remembered who was holding her in their arms. At that point she didn't care who it was. Just the feel of a man's hands on her again, rough, eager, and drunkenly playful, was enough to dull the memory of the shiny, new engagement ring and eventually enough to make her forget it all together.

By the time Joe closed the bar, they were the only ones left there and ran out to find a cab waiting for them. They didn't talk; discussion was not needed. Conversation would just complicate an uncomplicated situation, but that didn't mean they didn't communicate. Apparently they were both quite skillful at communicating…desire, and, before she knew it, his mouth was greedily sucking her neck while his left hand worked its way under her shirt to find her breasts, unclasping her bra quickly, and violently massaging them and his right hand surreptitiously slid its way under her skirt, grazing her thighs and teasing her…elsewhere…to the point where she was breathing heavily, her head tossed back and eyes closed in ecstasy, the fact that they were in a cab completely forgotten.

She was so excited and turned on by the time they reached her hotel, she couldn't help herself any longer and shoved him against the back wall of the elevator, taking his mouth again and again, their tongues rough and brutal in their fervent desire, while her hands dropped dangerous low on his waist, playing and teasing him to the brink as well. They had barely gotten in the door of her room before they completely lost control.

Not even bothering with their clothes, he merely ripped off her thong and tossed it aside as she pushed his pants and boxers down to his feet. Lifting her off the ground, his hands placed securely on her ass, she wrapped her legs around him just as he slammed into her. The sex was wild, mind blowing, brutal, and completely satisfying, and it did not take them long before they went back for seconds, thirds, fourths, having sex so many times she lost count and in many different places.

So many different places, in fact, she now saw Alex, naked, all over her room. She had never had a night like that before, but she knew it would not be her last. It was like a new drug for her. Alcohol did not make her loose herself like dangerous, promiscuous sex did.

Sitting up in bed, a self-satisfied smirk transforming her face, her eyes alive and vivacious for the first time in months, she finally realized what those pleasant aches in her body were from…or, to be more precise, who they were from. Gliding across the bed, she lifted up his breakfast tray and picked at what he had left, a little toast, half a bowl of fresh fruit, a couple bites of scrambled eggs, and orange juice. Sure, coffee would have been nice, but she was too exhausted to worry about calling room service. His leftovers would suffice.

Snapping her from her thoughts, Alex walked out of the bathroom, a towel lazily draped around his waist giving her greedy eyes a generous glimpse of his finely chiseled and well-endowed body. "I'm leaving," he told her while dropping his towel to get dressed, pulling on the same clothes he had worn the night before. "I have a shift in a half an hour."

"No one can know about this," she said decisively.

He merely laughed at her. "Everyone will though."

"I'm not going to say anything," she shot back defensively.

"Won't have to. They'll find out somehow, always do."

"Well this is just great," Addison complained, frustrated. "Now I'm no better than Derek or Preston. Sleeping with an intern, what was I thinking?"

Chuckling as he buttoned his shirt, Alex replied, "I think the problem was not that you weren't thinking but, instead, what you were thinking with. But don't worry," he continued in a taunting tone, "unlike those two pompous asses, you're not in a relationship with an intern. We merely had sex, no strings attached, emotionless, great sex."

"You have a point," she conceded.

"About what," Alex asked audaciously, "about the fact that we're not in a relationship or about the sex being great?"

"I thought you said you were leaving," she retorted annoyed while he merely held up his hands in surrender and made his way towards the door. Just as he was opening it, she called out one last time. "And this will never happen again, Karev."

Laughing impudently, he said, "so I'll see you tonight then after I get off of my shift," and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

She had been right earlier; he was an ass, an uncouth, indecorous, repugnant, supercilious, and vexing ass, but he was the best sex she'd ever had in her whole life. Jumping out of bed quickly, she practically skipped to the shower to get ready for the day. She had things to do, things to buy, things to prepare before tonight, because, if she had her way, sex with Alex sober was going to be even better. Suddenly, the holidays were looking up…literally and figuratively.