——
"Remind me why the fuck I'm coming to couples counselling with you?" Rosie asked both Addison and Derek, sat in the back of their car like a child.
"Because you keep us from tearing each others heads off," Addison said, shrugging as if the situation wasn't ridiculously odd.
"And I feel like I've barely seen you since you moved to Seattle," Derek chimed in.
"Probably because all you've been seeing is the inside of an interns legs," Addison added, unhelpfully, scowling as Derek sighed.
"Jesus," Rosie huffed, massaging her temples, "let's change the topic, shall we?"
"See," Derek grinned, "this is precisely why you're here, to keep our mind off things, to keep us in a good mood."
"You better pay for my therapy when this is over," she warned, "sitting through the car journey to couples therapy is enough to scar me for life."
"Oh please," her best friend scoffed, "we all know you're allergic to therapists."
"Precisely why I will not be entering the room with you, and keeping the freaky reliance you have on me away from your therapist."
"You're grouchy today," Derek noted, "more grouchy than usual."
"That's what cardio starvation does to a girl," she huffed, "Burke is a pain in the ass."
"I cant believe he took you off his service."
"I can't either," she stropped petulantly, "I mean, not my fault he's an imbecile, is it?"
"Remind me to get her some happy juice on the way home," Addison snorted.
"Happy juice?"
"Coffee."
"I see," Derek chuckled, bumping his shoulder against his wife's in the front of the car, laughing as Rosie audibly huffed in the backseat, pouting - exactly like their child.
"You know, it's pretty fucked up that the only time you two get along at the minute is to bitch about me," Rosie fumed, "you two need to take a look in the mirror and question your likability."
"I like me just fine," Derek laughed, and Rosie just huffed at his alarming self confidence.
——
Rosie walked into the hospital in a foul mood. She had zero time on cardio, and with great thanks to Addison's and Derek's bitching in the car post-therapy, she was beginning her day with zero patience; a cocktail of disaster.
Call her negative, but listening to the unhappy couple argue in the car over moving back to New York and a fucking intern had driven her up the wall. Not only was she forced to get up earlier to manage to scrape in a run before a trip to the shrink, but she had to endure sitting in the back and being excluded from a conversation between her two best friends about whether they were planning on up and leaving her. She was fucking pissed.
So, when she stumbled upon three interns also bickering (why was everyone fighting? She felt like she was back at home - gross), she was at the end of her tether.
"What the hell," she snarled, "are you three doing?"
The three heads whipped towards her at once, something she would find comical if not for the gruesome mood she was in. Neither Izzie, Cristina, or Meredith spoke up, all glaring sidewards at each other, urging anyone but themselves to speak up.
"Tell me in the next three seconds, or you're all on scut until further notice," Rosie warned, ignoring her conscience nagging at her, partly urging her to find something to cut (cut, cut, cut), and the other half reminding her of how dickish she was currently being.
