Ginger Snacks
A Private Practice fic by Gigi.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 3: Wanting the Magic

A/N: Sorry this story sort of fell to the back-burner of my Addie craze. You know the best way to keep that from happening again? Reviewing. Not that you haven't been. You guys have been very sweet about this fic. I'm just saying keep it up! And sorry, this would have been out one day sooner if it wasn't for the site being a complete douche.

A/N2: Don't forget, this is before Charlotte Goes Down the Rabbit Hole, so they haven't had the discussion of the whole fun-marrying type thing.

Addison leaned against the door frame of the empty room across from the lab, waiting on Ginger's biopsy results. Her right hand absentmindedly rubbed the side of her neckā€”and conveniently hid the hickey Pete left her during their lunch hour. Sighing, she glanced over at the clock. She still had about ten minutes until the labs would be ready, but she had nowhere else to be.

Just then, Pete rounded the corner and saw Addison standing there alone. Approaching her, he smiled. "Nobody's seen it yet, I take it?" he asked, nodding toward her right hand.

Addison shot him a look. "I'm still going to make you pay for it, Pete Wilder," she promised. "Nobody's seen it, but that doesn't mean nobody will."

"What does that mean?" Pete leaned against the opposite part of the door frame and crossed his arms in front of him.

"That means no more...sessions until you're ready for more than that," Addison mandated, looking directly into Pete's eyes. Sometimes she really hated that she was the marrying type, because all she really wanted to do at that moment was jump him.

"I wasn't planning on us--" he gestured between them "--being just about sex."

Addison's eyebrows shot upward. "You weren't?"

"You thought it was just about sex?"

Shaking her head fervently, Addison quickly amended herself. "No, of course not. It's just that you're a lot like my brother, although less of an ass."

"Is being like your brother supposed to have any significance to me?" Pete prompted. "Because I have no idea what your brother's like."

"I love my brother, I really do," Addison prefaced, "but he's an absolute jackass when it comes to women. He doesn't do commitment, and you don't strike me as someone who does commitment either."

Pete's face turned solemn. "I did commitment," he confessed, dropping his eyes to his feet. "I had a wife, Anna, but we fought all the time. We were never happy, not even when we were newlyweds."

Addison's heart went out to the man standing before her, and so did her free hand. Grasping Pete's arm, she gave it a squeeze. "I didn't know we were both divorcees," she said quietly.

Pete shook his head again. "Not divorced. Widowed." He felt Addison's hand retract just for a moment in surprise before it returned to his arm.

"Pete, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be so insensitive," she apologized. She stepped closer to Pete and pulled one of his arms off his chest so she could hold his hand. Playing with his fingers, Addison wove hers between his, interlocking them. "I don't really know what to say."

"That's okay, you don't need to say anything," Pete insisted, glancing down at their hands as well. They looked odd together, with her long, slender fingers almost swallowed by his thick ones, but they looked right.

"I mean, I know plenty to say that would be appropriate for divorce or cheating, because I've done both," she rambled, "but I've never known someone whose wife died, so I'm kind of lost."

Pete gave their hands a shake, catching Addison's attention and bringing her eyes up to meet his. "Really. Saying nothing is better."

Addison nodded and remained silent. She simply stood in the middle of the doorway, with one hand holding Pete's and the other hand clutching her neck.

"Biopsy results for Ginger Lee?" the labtech called out, looking curiously at the pair of doctors.

Releasing her hold on Pete, Addison nodded in thanks to the tech and took the results from his hand. She perused them for a minute and closed her eyes in disappointment before handing the piece of paper to Pete. "It's malignant."

"And to think, all she presented with was a rash on her butt," Pete commented, reading the paper.

Addison laughed softly. "So I guess Cooper actually saved her life by hiring her for Sam," she mused, bringing a smile to Pete's face as he realized the truth in her words.

"I wouldn't tell Coop that if I were you," he warned. "We'd never hear the end of it." Pete watched Addison take the paper back from him and resume reading it. After a few moments, he spoke again. "So the first time we try to have sex, Violet knocks on your door and reminds us we're working, and the second time we try to have sex, we get called to the ER."

Addison raised her head from the paper and fingered the bruise on her neck from their "second time." She narrowed her eyes and asked, "What's your point?"

"Apparently, the universe thinks we shouldn't have sex just yet." Pete didn't realize how bad that sounded until he saw her reaction.

Disappointment flashed in her eyes as she looked back down at the paper. "Oh," she said quietly.

"Oh, God, that's not what I meant," Pete insisted. Addison's eyes flickered back up to his. "I was trying to be cute and witty about asking you out," he finished lamely.

"You were trying to ask me out?" Hope tinged her question.

"I kind of failed at it, but yeah, I was trying," Pete admitted, rubbing the back of his head. When did he turn into a fourteen year-old boy?

A smile stole across Addison's face, and for a moment she forgot that she was going to have to tell Ginger she had cancer. "I'd love to," she accepted.

So apparently the fourteen year-old boy thing was working for him. "Really?" She nodded, still grinning. "So no more failed attempts at sex. We'll just be the boring old-fashioned couple that waits to actually go to dinner before putting out," he quipped, wanting to hear her laugh again.

She happily obliged, laughing like she hadn't in ages. "I'd like that."

A/N: Shortie, but cutie, I think. But it doesn't matter what I think. At all. What matters is what you think. So what do you think? What do you think? What do you think? Okay, I'm done italicizing all the words in that question, so tell me what you think in a review. Please.