"Such a shame."
Adam tapped into his memory database, ran a serious analysis, and concluded that Dr. Shepard probably didn't have a cuckold fetish. With a sigh, he pulled out his phone, ready to make a call.
In a situation like this, it was safer to call Christina, Liz, or one of the others.
Bang!
The bar door swung open.
Speak of the devil, and they shall appear!
George stormed in with a dark look on his face, followed by Christina, her expression blank as a board.
Adam perked up, pocketed his phone, waved at them, and slid into the seat next to Meredith.
"Gimme a beer!"
George plopped down, barked his order, and as soon as the bottle hit his hand, he started chugging.
"How about a game?" he suggested. "Let's see who's the unluckiest."
Meredith's eyes gleamed with a mix of haze and madness. "I'll win. I always win!"
"You don't wanna play this with me," Christina said, her face still deadpan, like some untouchable master issuing a warning.
"Let's make it the four of us—whoever loses picks up the tab!" George shot Adam a sideways glance and shouted.
"I'm in!"
"I'm in!"
Meredith and Christina turned to Adam in unison, chiming their agreement.
"Alright, I'm in too," Adam said with a shrug.
It was obvious they'd been stewing over his recent "look at me" antics, and with each of them clearly dealing with their own crap, tonight was going to cost him some cash.
But Adam didn't mind. It was just a few drinks.
Go ahead and try to drink me broke, he thought.
"Joe, you heard 'em!" Meredith laughed loudly. "When the time comes, bring out the good stuff—make him regret it!"
"I heard ya," Joe said, glancing at Adam. Seeing Adam nod, he chuckled in agreement.
But Joe wasn't the type to overdo it. He'd been running this bar for over a decade, building a reputation and a business—he wasn't about to fleece Adam like some sucker. The drinks he brought out later were just a step up, nothing outrageous.
"I'll go first!"
Meredith slammed back another drink, then turned to the group. "Derek's married."
"Pfft!"
George, mid-sip, spewed beer out of his mouth and nose.
"What?!" he sputtered, wiping himself off, wide-eyed.
But amid the shock, Adam caught a fleeting glint of glee in George's eyes. Compared to the frustration of pissing off a top-tier anesthesiologist—or maybe some other doctor—earlier today, this juicy tidbit about his goddess was a jackpot. Meredith had been stabbed in the back, her defenses down. It was prime time for a backup guy like him to step up and make his move.
"Told you I'd win," Meredith said, giggling with a drunken smirk.
"You didn't," Christina replied, unfazed, sipping her drink with the coolness of a seasoned pro.
"Didn't you hear me?" Meredith snapped, annoyed. "I said that stupid, cheating jerk is married. Nothing you say can top that—I'm the biggest loser here!"
"I'm pregnant," Christina said flatly, taking another sip.
"…"
Meredith was instantly speechless.
"Burke's?" Adam cut in.
"Not yours," Christina shot him a look.
"How did you guys even…" Meredith, momentarily forgetting her own mistress status, stammered in shock. "You're both doctors—didn't you use protection?"
"The first time was spontaneous. Who's got time to dig around for a condom in a moment like that?" Christina grumbled. "Not everyone's like Adam's gimpy friend, carrying a whole string of them in his pocket—and even then, he doesn't always use 'em, or he wouldn't have caught that STD."
She left out the part where it all started: assisting Dr. Burke in surgery, blown away by his skill, then tracking him down afterward, cornering him in the on-call room, and locking the door behind her.
"…"
Adam's lip twitched.
Anyone unfamiliar got labeled as "Adam's gimpy friend"—Barney. With Barney's wild reputation, he was always the talk of the town, dragging Adam's own image down with him.
"So after that, you used protection?" Meredith pressed.
"Of course," Christina said, downing another gulp, clearly irritated.
"One shot, one kill," Adam mused.
"You planning to keep it?" Meredith asked, shooting Adam a glare before turning to Christina with concern.
"Do I even need to answer that?" Adam interjected. "Look at how she's pounding those drinks—she's not keeping it. Wednesday's the day, right? That's the big thing we've all been guessing about."
"Ohhh," George said, the pieces clicking. "No wonder you asked me to cover your shift."
"Christina, are you sure?" Meredith urged. "Maybe think it over?"
"What, you gonna pull a 'let's talk it out' like my appointment doc?" Christina chugged more beer and sneered. "Raise it myself or give it away? Either way, I'd have to carry it for nine months first! I'm a surgical intern! I'm aiming to be a badass surgeon like your mom. Where am I supposed to find the time for that? What would you do?"
Meredith froze.
She'd become a doctor partly to spite her mom, who didn't think she could hack it as a top surgeon, and partly because, deep down, she idolized her mom's legendary status in the field.
Being a decent surgeon was hard enough. Adding a kid to the mix? Impossible.
Her silence said it all.
"See?" Christina took another swig and smirked coldly. "I never hesitated for a second."
"Have you checked it out yet?" Adam asked. "What if it's ectopic?"
Christina's face shifted.
An ectopic pregnancy was no joke—ruptured tubes, massive bleeding, maybe even losing a fallopian tube. Worst case, it could kill you.
"I'm fine! Surgery's the day after tomorrow. Then it's back to normal," she insisted, raising her glass again, but Adam snatched it away.
"What the hell?"
"Back to the hospital. Get an ultrasound," Adam said, yanking the drink from her hand. "If I remember right, you smoke too, don't you? That already ups your odds of ectopic, and you're basically living at the hospital 24/7. I'm worried you won't make it to Wednesday."
"I'm not going to the hospital," Christina protested.
She'd booked her procedure at a different place to keep it from her colleagues.
"Then we'll go somewhere else," Adam said, turning to the others. "Meredith, George, what are you waiting for? Grab her—let's go!"
"Oh—oh!"
"Christina, listen to Adam!"
George and Meredith snapped out of it, each taking an arm and hauling Christina toward the door.
"Joe, put it on my tab," Adam called, tilting his chin.
"No problem," Joe replied with a grin.
Even Alex could run a tab here—Adam was a sure bet.
Adam felt great.
One, he might've just saved Christina from a real danger, maybe even bought her some extra years. Two, he'd distracted Meredith enough to keep her infamous "100% drunk pants-dropping" move from happening tonight.
And on top of that, he'd pulled off two high-level surgeries today, earning favors from two big-shot doctors.
A damn near perfect day!