Drunk whores on tequila. Rushed update so I'm sorry; short but sweet. I'm so excited about my new fic, which is thoroughly planned and well under way. I'll let you know when it's up and ready :).

Love you all, thank you for the reviews. xoxo

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Meredith wrinkled her button nose as the earthy scent of cheap red wine wafted across the table to her nostrils as Cristina filled two glasses of wine almost to the brim, before placing the bottle in between them. She pulled a face.

"Is that seriously the only alcohol you have?" Cristina shrugged.

"I like wine. It's good for the soul."

"You know what's also good for the soul? Tequila."

"It's not really a tequila kind of night," she pointed out, though when she noticed Meredith drop her gaze and glance down at her fingernails, she raised her fine eyebrows. "Is it a tequila kind of night?" Meredith hesitated briefly, before finding herself unable to hold back her babbling.

"McDreamy makes me all fuzzy. And that's really bad, because he's my teacher, and teachers aren't meant to make their students fuzzy, but I can't help it. And he came to see me yesterday, and we talked, and now I'm worried I make him fuzzy too. I just… When I'm with him, I just feel… Different. Good different. I don't worry about college or home or the pressure of being Ellis Grey's kid. I just feel like… Well, me." Cristina's mouth had dropped open, though she quickly snapped it shut at Meredith's glare.

"You're Ellis Grey's kid?"

"Accept it and move on. I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, well… God, that's a lot to take in…" Cristina mumbled, sitting back in her chair and taking a large gulp of wine, a move which Meredith mimicked, though she cringed at the taste. "Have you told McDreamy that he makes you fuzzy?"

"I don't really get a chance to, every time I see him I end up sucking his face off." Once again, Cristina's eyes grew wide, partly in hurt that her new friend had failed to tell her her juicy gossip. Meredith rolled her own eyes, before draining the wine from the glass that she had been nursing. "We made out when we went out last week. And then we almost kissed last night. So that's twice that we've hooked up drunk, and one almost-hook up sober. And then there have been a couple of times after supervisions that I so could have just reached over his desk and ripped his smart little shirt off."

"You know, for someone who thinks it's wrong to be screwing her teacher, you're giving a pretty bad demonstration of those morals," Cristina observed, automatically refilling Meredith's glass as she sighed wistfully.

"I can't help it. He's just so…"

"Dreamy?" Cristina finished for her, earning another sigh in agreement from her friend. She hesitated, before slamming her glass down on the table decisively, causing Meredith to jump. "Screw it. Maybe it is a tequila kind of night. Let's go out."

"We have a supervision tomorrow."

"That didn't stop us Thursday night. Hell, that didn't stop Shepherd Thursday night, and he's our teacher." Slowly, a little relieved smile appeared on Meredith's lips, and she nodded her head in agreement.

"Let's go out."

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Neither Meredith nor Cristina had intended to get as drunk as they did. It was meant to be a tame night, with enough vodka that Meredith could forget about her problems and maybe kiss a few boys, but not knocking the pair of them unconscious or threatening their next day's education. But something had gone wrong at the bar, and Meredith could only assume it was the five Sambuca shots each that she'd stuck on her credit card, a gift from her mother for moving away to college and leaving her in peace. Meredith groaned, holding herself up by leaning back against the bar and gripping onto the stool beside her. The room was spinning. She tried to focus on a dancing man in a hilarious-looking gold shirt, but he simply blurred into the woman in pink dancing next to him. She giggled involuntarily. Where was Cristina? Cristina?

"Cristina?" she tried to call, but her voice was lost beneath the heavy bass of the club music. She looked around, somewhat panicked. And then she spotted her, and, breathing a sigh of relief, squinted in an attempt to focus on her friend. Cristina had moved into the shadows of the club, though the electric blue dress that she had 'thrown on' before leaving her flat made her unmissable. Meredith raised her eyebrows. Cristina was suddenly blocked by the tall, dark-skinned man who was unashamedly sucking her face off, his arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace. Meredith tore her eyes away, trying not to let her thoughts wander to her own boy issues. This was her night to forget about her problems, and Cristina was hooking up with random men. She sighed.

"Jesus Christ…" she mumbled, plucking her tequila shot from the bar and tipping it down her throat, before wandering into the centre of the room, in amongst the sea of bodies convulsing as one. She danced – or, attempted to, at least. And as she moved, she accidentally caught the eye of a doe-eyed, shy-looking boy with floppy hair who definitely didn't look old enough to be a freshman. He was watching her, longingly. She grinned.

"Hi," she greeted him, eagerly. He was shuffling awkwardly from side-to-side with his group of friends, so she reached out and grabbed his hand, tugging him into the centre of the dancefloor. He laughed, and she placed her arms around him, pulling him close to her. Her last tequila shot fizzed to her brain, completely clouding her judgment. She could barely hear the music in the background through the fog in her brain. She forced her slim body to grind expertly in time with the music, and looked up into his dark eyes, which had a clear hint of mischief behind them. She grinned wider. He wasn't some innocent and inexperienced fresh-out-of-high-school-er. He knew exactly what he was doing. Then, her mind blurred. And then, she could feel lips against hers and an arm slide down her waist and cup her backside. She was kissing him, and he wasn't McDreamy. He definitely wasn't McDreamy. Even in her drunken haze, she couldn't tear McDreamy from her mind – she wanted to be kissing him instead.

ooooo

Meredith forced a gasp as the naked, sweaty figure atop her slid a hand underneath her and grasped her buttcheek tightly, writhing against her. She tried to relax, tried to enjoy herself. He was good, there was no denying that the kid knew exactly what he was doing, exactly where to touch her. But Meredith's mind was plagued by flashbacks of Derek's muscular chest pressed against hers, fitting perfectly. Or the way that he breathily uttered her name between urgent gasps, his fingers moving expertly across her body. When she was suddenly brought crashing back to present and she remembered that she wasn't here with Derek, her chest hurt, so painfully that it felt like it would explode. She squeezed her eyes shut as a tear escaped and slipped down her cheek, though she tried not to show this and kept her hips moving in time with the stranger's. She wanted Derek. Not this. She didn't want some drunken one-night stand. What the hell had he done to her?