Rating: R for the drinkin' and mild arousal. That's right, I said it.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own Izzie/George. If I did well, I'd have a hit show, Callie wouldn't exist, and Izzie/George would probably be banging right now.
Summary: What (I want to believe) happened in the suspicious missing time during 3x18.
Notes: I'm really rusty. I can't even remember the last time I've written anything like this, so let me know what you think.
“..I desperately want you,” he glanced at her, before going back to his drink. She giggled, paused to
gauge his reaction, and then they both laughed. It was nearly hysterical, the kind of laugh you do
when everything seems so absurd.
“I'm crying..” Izzie mused, pointing to her face, before wiping away the tears, “Is she crazy?”
George's voice went low, “I think.. She's maybe, a little crazy.”
Izzie laughed again, because it did seem absurd. If she loved him, what was she supposed to do?
He came there and made her promise. He made her promise to like his wife. To push him closer to her.
And then her chest tightened.
“..I can't breathe.. I can't breathe.” She grabbed her shirt.
“Shh! Shh!” He smiled and reached for her. His hand cupped the back of her head as he pulled her
“Gotta be quiet. You --”
“Oww..” They shared the pain of hitting the wall. Izzie smiled, giggling once again as she stared into
his eyes. She felt the heat of his breath on her, and noticed her heart was still racing inside her chest.
And for George, as he stared back, everything at that one moment seemed so simple. His hand still
holding her, he pulled her in and kissed her. She closed her eyes, but everything seemed to move
faster. The glasses were gone. Her arms moved around his neck, his fingers ran through her hair.
They heard a door shut, and instantly split apart like teenagers.
They stood up and waited, but no one came.
George moved for her again, but she pulled away.
“Iz..” He tried to read her expression.
She bit her lip. She shouldn't do this. Even if she loved him.
He kissed her, pushing her against the wall. She can't talk now. He knew that if she spoke anymore,
it wouldn't happen. He was there. He wanted to. And she knew it, and so she gave in.
His hand moved up from her waist inside her sweater. He'd seen her wear it a hundred times
maybe, but he refused to count as he pulled it up.
Her mind was fuzzy, everything seemed fuzzy, but she could clearly feel all of him as he pushed
himself more firmly against her. Sinking his hand between them he flicked his thumb over her pants button.
She moved her mouth to his ear, “We have to move.”
Her breath on his earlobe drove him crazy, but he stopped. He moved in for another kiss, and she
nudged him to the left.
He couldn't let go. Still holding onto each other, kissing, groping, biting, they felt their way through the hall.
They passed his room, but he didn't question. Soon they were against her door. Keeping his eyes on her,
he found the doorknob and gave it a turn.
And quickly, at least sooner than she imagined, they were on the bed.