So here's the deal. I'm stuck on my other story. Until I figure out where I'm going with it I will update other stuff. I know there will be tomatoes thrown at me, but my muse moved away so I'm in limbo for a while.

This story came out of nowhere. It started as a one shot, but I know it's going to be longer. It's through Izzie's eyes, but it involves every character on a deeper level. It is Izzie centric and I know there will be no I repeat NO George and Izzie in love. I can't stomach it. Oh who am I kidding we all know it will be McStizzie, unless someone wants to put up a good fight for someone else. That isn't George. Have fun reading and REVIEW. I like them they make me feel pretty.

Izzie had a secret talent. She hadn't exercised it since medical school, but tonight she brought out the hard black box that held a world of secret hidden treasures. She opened it and looked down into the safe haven for her assortment of brushes, charcoals, oils, pastels, and other various art tools. Izzie was an artist. Sure she was an amateur, but an advanced one. She had taken art from 8th grade thru graduation. She had also taken a few general art classes just to learn new techniques and to fulfill fine art and elective credit hours for her degree. She had missed the familiarity of the smells and diverse selection of textures in the box. She tore herself away from it to dive back into the closet and retrieve her easel. She set up the easel and put her only blank canvas on it. She pulled out her oils, because they had always been her favorite. She wasn't a big fan of the palette; it had always seemed so cliché, but it was a necessary evil. She readied it then gently placed it on her bed and went to check the hallway. It was empty. She closed her door and locked it. She was securely hidden away in her own personal heaven. It had been a stressful month. Helping plan Cristina's wedding and hiding her secret with George was not an easy load to bear. She was exhausted. What better way to unwind and relax than to paint herself into a new world. She sat on her bed and contemplated the blank space before her. She had laid out her five different types of brushes beside her on the bed. She picked up the Filbert brush and dipped it into the steely blue. She moved the bush over the canvas with ease even though she had no idea what her end product would be. Some artists planned their work but she never had. She let her hands do the walking and her heart do the planning. She thought while the images appeared. She used the time to clear her head and calm herself. Her thoughts started out innocently enough. She wondered what would have happened if she hadn't wanted to be a surgeon. It slowly escaladed until it reached "What If I had been born into a different life? What if we all had?" She stopped her fluid movements and pondered this last question a little longer. "Would we even still know each other and if we did would we like each other?" Her philosophical moment was interrupted by Alex banging on her door. She sighed and set her brush down so she could properly yell at him with large hand movements.

"What is it Alex?"

"What is this?"

"Tampons? Do I really need to explain that one?"
"I'm a guy. I don't buy tampons."

"You do when you live in this house. This seems oddly familiar."

"I'm not O'Malley and I don't buy tampons."

"Alex. Hmmph. Meredith!"

"What is it?" Meredith poked her head out of her bedroom door.

"Alex here won't buy tampons."

"Alex I thought we discussed this. You do the list and tampons are sure to make an appearance at least once a month."

"I…don't…do…tampons…"

"Meredith I will get you both a ton of tampons and what ever else you need if you just come back to bed and let them go to their rooms." Derek was tired. He needed sleep.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Goodnight guys."

"Goodnight" they replied but then the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it" Izzie knew that everyone else was eager to go to bed. So she hurried down the steps and opened the door only to be greeted by a very pissy Cristina Yang, and a very depressed George O'Malley.

"Meredith's upstairs with McDreamy, and George you know where the extra blankets are. Now I'm going to the kitchen."

She turned and left, but could hear Cristina trudging up the stairs and George opening the hall closet. It was nice having so many friends, but this place could get all kinds of crowded. She grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink and walked back into the living room where George was putting a sheet on the couch.

"George, do you ever wonder where you would be if you had chosen a different life?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know have you ever wanted to be something else. I mean besides a surgeon."

"I wanted to be an astronaut when I was 11."

"What if you had been an astronaut instead?"

"Where are all these questions coming from Iz?"

"I don't know I was just thinking. It's nothing important I guess."

"Ok." He gave her a confused face paired with his sweet George smile.

"Shut up." He was and would always be her best friend.

"I didn't say anything."

"And now I'm going to sleep. Have fun on the couch." She made sure to emphasize that last word. She walked to her room and changed into her pajamas. She looked at her painting. It was definitely something. She wasn't sure where she was going with it, but she knew it would be one of her best. It was a person's profile. She had no idea who it belonged to, but it would become clear within a few days. She moved her brushes into a plastic container to soak and climbed into her soft comfy bed. She turned off the light and was out before her thoughts had time to even flicker across her mind one last time.

She was standing in a room. It was a blue room. It was the same blue she had used on the canvas that night. It was empty except for a chair that was situated directly across from the door. She walked over to it. The chair was silver and had a smooth modern look to it. She felt compelled to sit in it. As soon as she did the door opened and a petite woman with dark hair and bright eyes walked in. She looked as sleek and cool as the chair Izzie now occupied. She was dressed in a grey suit and had her hands in front of her body.

"Isobel Stevens do you know where you are?"

"I can safely say no."

"Where and how isn't important, but rather why."

"So why am I here then?"

"You asked yourself many times this night what would have happened if your life was different. You wondered if you would still have your friends. If you were destined to meet or if you were just victims of circumstance. These are not questions that are to be taken lightly. They are from the deepest part of your heart and soul. You have two options now. You can go back to your current life and wonder about what could have been or you can walk through that door and find out. It seems like and easy choice, but you have to understand one thing. What ever you see may disappoint you or leave you wanting. Ignorance can sometimes truly be bliss, but you will have gained knowledge once you walk thorough it."

Izzie had no idea what was going on, and decided she was dreaming. Her mind was running amuck. She thought over what the woman had said and decided she did want to know. If her life was enough for her now then it would be enough when she came back to it. She looked at the woman not sure of what to tell her. She was answered with a swift hand movement in the direction of the door. She nodded and took the doorknob and with a deep sigh she opened it and walked through.

Izzie saw a huge studio. In the deepest part of the studio there was a large canvas sitting against the wall. The remarkable thing was the person starring at the canvas. Izzie recognized her body. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she was wearing a t shirt that had a few holes in it. It was obviously very loved. She was also wearing overalls but the straps were hanging at her sided rather than sitting on her shoulders. She was obviously an artist. A real artist, because there were paintings and a few sculptures sitting around the room. Even that wasn't the strangest part. The thing that unsettled her was the large canvas sitting in front of Artist Izzie. It was exactly the same painting she had started just a few hours ago.


I love you please review. Thank you and come again.