Chapter Text
Meredith Grey hated two things more than anything: early morning staff meetings and being told what to do with her body. So, when Bailey—now Chief Bailey—made it compulsory for all female staff to have their annual Pap smear updated in the system, Meredith considered rebellion.
Only Cristina’s smug, “It’s literally three minutes of your life, suck it up, Mer,” kept her from staging a protest.
The appointment was supposed to be quick, clinical, and forgettable. Assigned to an infamous OB/GYN named Dr. Lewis. Fine. Simple. Until the nurse walked in with a clipboard and a bright, oblivious smile.
“Dr. Lewis had to assist in an emergency delivery,” she chirped. “Dr. Montgomery will be taking over for her.”
Meredith’s heart did an Olympic-worthy somersault.
Of course it would be Addison Montgomery.
Gorgeous. Composed. Legs-for-days Addison, who strolled through Grey Sloan Memorial like the hallways bent for her, and who Meredith had been secretly—and pathetically—crushing on for the past several months.
Addison, who had no idea.
Meredith didn’t even have time to argue. The nurse left. The door clicked shut.
And then she was there—Addison in her white coat, red hair pulled back, reading the chart.
“Meredith.”
She looked up, eyes soft with surprise. “Hey.”
Meredith cleared her throat, trying to appear less like a woman wearing a paper-thin gown with her ass out. “Hi.”
“I can request someone else,” Addison said gently. “If you’re not comfortable.”
The kindness in her voice almost made Meredith say yes. But she was already here. Already bare under the gown. She and Addison had been good friends—best friends even—and she wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t care about things like this.
“It’s fine,” she said, too fast. “Let’s just—get it over with.”
Addison nodded, her expression unreadable. “Okay. I’m sure you’ve done this before, but I’ll still walk you through everything.”
Meredith tried not to notice the precise way Addison washed her hands. Or how her sleeves were rolled just enough to reveal the strength in her forearms. Or the way her gloved hands flexed. Or her goddamn perfume.
Fuck.
She tried not to breathe too deeply. Addison’s perfume was subtle but dangerous—clean, citrus, something sharp beneath. It was the scent of being seen and undressed all at once.
Addison was seated behind the rolling tray now, clipboard in hand, legs crossed, the image of professional detachment. She looked up, her tone neutral.
“I’ll start with a few basic intake questions before we begin. You probably already know the drill, but I have to ask.”
Meredith nodded, gown clutched around her chest like armor. “Go ahead.”
Addison clicked her pen. “Any recent pelvic pain?”
“No.”
“Unusual discharge?”
“No.”
“Changes in your cycle?”
“Nothing significant.”
Addison hesitated for half a second, then looked up—eyes calm, but focused.
“Are you currently sexually active?”
Meredith blinked.
What the fuck kind of question is that when I’m literally spread open in a gown that barely covers anything and you’re asking me that with your voice all low and calm like you don’t know exactly what that question is doing to me—
“No,” she answered, too quickly. Then paused. “I mean—rarely.”
Addison didn’t react, not really. Just made a soft noise and checked the box.
“With men? Women? Both?”
Meredith’s face burned. “Both,” she managed, swallowing. “Lately… women.”
Something unreadable flickered in Addison’s eyes.
“Protection used?”
“Yes.”
Addison clicked her pen again, finished the form, and stood. “Okay,” she said softly. “Feet in the stirrups. Let me know if anything feels uncomfortable.”
Meredith complied, eyes on the ceiling. The paper rustled beneath her as she settled back, trying not to look or think about the fact that Addison Montgomery was inches from the most intimate parts of her.
Cool air hit her thighs.
The pressure wasn’t the problem.
The problem was everything else.
Addison’s voice. Her hands. The way her fingers brushed Meredith’s inner thigh for balance. The way her breath touched the edge of Meredith’s hip.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
Meredith gasped.
“You okay?” Addison asked, gentle, observant.
“Yeah,” Meredith croaked.
It was a lie. Her thighs trembled. Heat licked through her belly like slow poison. Her clit pulsed once—twice—nothing had touched it, but her body didn’t care.
She clenched down instinctively at the pressure inside her. Addison’s hand gently pressed on her inner thigh.
“Breathe,” Addison murmured. “Try to relax your muscles.”
Meredith forced herself to exhale. You’ve done this a dozen times, she reminded herself. This is normal. Routine.
But Addison’s fingers were resting just against her thigh, steadying her, and it was doing things to her head. The sensation of being so open, of Addison’s calm voice guiding her through the most intimate parts of her body—it shouldn’t have felt this… charged.
Addison gently rotated the speculum once, carefully spreading her open.
“You’ll feel a little pressure as I open it,” she said.
Meredith bit her lip as the metal expanded inside her, widening her more than she expected. It wasn’t pain—just a slow, stretching fullness that made her pulse between her legs throb faster. Her heels pressed slightly against the stirrups.
“I’m going to collect the sample now,” Addison said. “You may feel some light scraping. Just keep breathing.”
She reached for the cytobrush—a soft-tipped tool designed to gently sweep the cervix—and inserted it with practiced ease.
Meredith sucked in another breath as she felt it. That faint, unusual sensation deep inside—like the edge of something delicate brushing the wall of her body.
It was over in seconds. Addison didn’t rush, but she didn’t linger either. She moved with clinical rhythm, silent except for the faint rattle of a swab hitting the collection vial.
“Almost done,” Addison said. Her voice was gentle. Careful.
But her hand brushed the outer edge of Meredith’s labia as she guided the speculum back out. Meredith flinched at the contact—not from discomfort but from startle. From how good it felt. From how much slick had gathered at her entrance.
She saw Addison hesitate for the briefest second before discarding the instrument and removing her gloves.
“You did great,” Addison said, stepping back. “You can bring your legs down now.”
Meredith nodded and moved slowly, knees stiff. Her body was warm all over, and between her legs, she felt embarrassingly wet. She couldn’t even blame it on lube—there hadn’t been any. That slickness was entirely her own.
She sat up, tugging the gown over her knees, but didn’t meet Addison’s eyes.
Her best friend had just had her face between her thighs. And she had liked it.
A little too much.
But Addison said nothing.
She simply walked over to the sink, washed her hands again, and pulled out a fresh pair of gloves.
“I can proceed with the breast exam, if you’d like,” she said after a moment, voice neutral again.
Meredith blinked. Looked up.
Addison wasn’t looking at her—not quite. But her jaw was tight. Her fingers twitched at the wrist.
Meredith felt her own heart lurch.
She could say no. She could end this here.
But instead—
“Yeah,” Meredith said softly. “Finish it.”
Addison turned around, nodding once, eyes unreadable.
“Lie back. I’ll walk you through every step.”
Addison continued the exam with practiced grace, but Meredith was unraveling.
Something about the next step would be different.
Meredith felt it already, blooming under her skin like a warning.