carmilla: (Femslash)
[personal profile] carmilla
SUMMARY: Meredith pretends she’s still a kid. Cristina helps. Set pretty early in Season 1.


Meredith does stupid things when she’s drunk. To tell the truth, that's mostly why she drinks - it turns her into a kid again, free to say and do what she likes and just not think about what will happen next. And yeah, that hasn’t been working out too well for her lately. But hey, try and try again, right?

So she's on the floor of her apartment, and George and Izzy have gone to find more beer and possibly more people, and she's watching Cristina fail to pretend she's soberer than the rest of them. Cristina a little unbuttoned, literally and figuratively, is a sight she wouldn't mind seeing more often, she decides. Cristina drunk and rumpled loses the aura of untouchability she has when she's sober, and Meredith likes people she can touch.

The warm, hazy feeling she had a couple of bottles back is fading, which is bad because it means she's about to hit the stage where she starts thinking again, and really her life is fair too messy to think about right now. Derek, her mom, a new city she still hasn't got used to, wondering when she'll kill someone by accident, wondering whether she'll be the first to crack under the pressure and if not, whether it will be someone she really likes....

Abruptly, she realises that she's crying, and that Cristina has her arms round her, a little stiffly, not like she's uncomfortable but just like she hasn't done this very much. Her head sags back against Cristina's shoulder, and she keeps crying just as long as it feels like the right thing to do. Then she takes a couple of deep breaths, and murmurs 'thank you', and Cristina rolls her eyes and says everyone does stupid stuff when they're drunk.

Meredith thinks she asked permission to do something else stupid, but she might have just thought it.

And then they're kissing, and this should be the point when she reminds herself what a bad idea this is, but it doesn't feel like a bad idea at all. Cristina's warm, and she tastes of dry white wine, and her thin shoulders feel surprisingly comfortable in Meredith's hands. All the same, she pulls back - not so soon that she could just laugh this off, but before the urge to invite Cristina upstairs becomes impossible to ignore. And Cristina grins at her, and says she's glad she doesn't always have terrible taste when she's drunk, and the little barb hurts but the kiss she follows it up with takes the sting out of it, and that's just so very Cristina of her that Meredith has to kiss her back.

It's like being a kid again, to lie in Cristina's arms and kiss her whenever she feels like it, and giggle at the thought that the others could come back at any moment. It's like drinking ginger beer and pretending it's the real thing, illicit and safe at the same time. But there's a sharpness in Cristina's eyes that warns her she may have let herself in for more than she bargained for, again. She doesn't care. Right now, it's more than worth it.