A/N: I was dying to write this story since Lexie mentioned calling her three exes during The Becoming. I also thought it would give me an opportunity to give Alex/Lexie a bit more closure.
"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system
"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system."
The overly-enthusiastic automated voice is taunting her.
"Tom Hornst," briefly interjects a raspy baritone, only to be replaced once again by the robotic mezzo, "is not available. At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hang up, or press one for more options."
She draws in a deep breath as the high-pitched beep rings in her ear. "Hey, Tom, it's Lexie…Lexie Grey." She makes a face at herself, confused as to why she feels the need to explain who she is. "Um, I know this is a pretty random phone call, but I have something I need to ask you," she stammers. "So if you could call me back when you get this it'd be, uh, really great. Bye."
She terminates the call and rubs her temples in exasperation. The day has been generally uncomfortable: Lexie's day had started at Level Two of Awkwardness, taking part in the unwanted duet to "Like a Virgin" in the morgue. Then, she was privy to the revelation of Rose-and-McDreamy Sex. Level Three. Meredith being present at the scene bumped it up to a whopping Level Five, which Lexie thought would be the maximum for the day.
Oh, but fate is not - and probably never will be - that kind to Lexie Grey.
It's one thing to be cheated on in a relationship (even though, technically, she was the one he was cheating with, so double-crossed would probably be the more correct term; Lexie doesn't acknowledge that, though). But it's definitely another thing to have what the poor young intern thinks was mind-blowing, totally amazing sex, only to have Alex cheat on her…and then promptly forget about it. It's really doing wonders for her steadily declining self-esteem, and not in a good way.
And that is exactly why she's in this situation: hiding in the resident break room, which is apparently off-limits to interns. It's the only place in the hospital where Lexie has service on her cell-phone (fucking AT&T) so that she can contact a few of her ex-boyfriends to make sure that they remembered having sex with her. She's been out of touch with all of them for quite a while; Tom is the most recent, and they haven't talked since the last semester Harvard Med. Needless to say, the Level of Awkwardness is now off the charts.
So she's sitting there, in the dark, the screen of her cell phone casting an eerie glow throughout the plush, carpeted lounge. She hunkers down into the sofa so that nobody can discover her and interrupt the embarrassing task at hand.
She dials the next number (she doesn't even have to look it up in her address book…photographic memories can be killers sometimes) and, once again, the call goes to voicemail.
"Hey, you've reached Josh Lunstalt," greets the voice of her on-again, off-again ex from her middle years at Harvard Med. "Sorry I missed your call, but leave me a message and I'll get back to you soon." Lexie grimaces and complies, leaving an equally curt and uneasy voicemail. It's right about now when she decides to make the next call her last. She dials the final number, and is disgusted that she still remembers it.
It rings for about two hours (or at least it feels that way). Lexie suddenly realizes that she has no idea what to say if any of these guys did pick up. It'll probably be one of those moments when she hears the expectant salutation, panics, and hangs up. She really, really hopes it doesn't come to that. Maybe she's glad she's being forced to leave voicemails.
The last ring finishes its warble, and the telltale click sounds in her ears. "Hello! Thanks for calling the Sabow household: Ethan, Abby, and Carly. Leave us your name and number, and we'll get back to you!" Lexie can't help but gag just a little bit, as if a horrible stench has just entered the lounge. Her MBA ex-boyfriend from her senior year at college and his family – perfect wife, perfect two-year-old daughter – never fail to sicken her. She swears it's not jealousy.
Despite these feelings of definitely-not-jealousy, Lexie manages to leave a polite message in which she reassures (more than once) that she has no interest in being a homewrecker. She disconnects the call and gets ready to make a quick escape from the hospital. But, of course, she should have seen this coming.
"What are you doing?"
Oh, shit.
Lexie easily jumps two inches off of the couch at the sound of the masculine voice. She stares at the tall figure in the doorway, her pupils semi-dilated by the contrast of lots of dark surrounding very bright light of her cell phone. She hears the flip of the switch and the lights come up too suddenly, causing her eyes to burn and imaginary yellow splotches to float in front of her eyes.
She almost groans aloud when, through her blurry, teary vision, she sees Alex Karev standing in front of her. He's wearing his usual expression: chocolate brown eyes half-lidded and one corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk.
Fucking wonderful.
"What are you doing?" he asks again, folding his arms across his chest. It's as if somebody just replaced her stomach with a block of ice as she attempts to choke out an answer. He laughs once at her bewildered expression and the croaking sounds of half-formed words coming from her throat.
It's quite a few more seconds before Lexie can break out of deer-in-headlights mode and finally reply. "Um, phone calls," she splutters. "I had to call some people and this is the only place where I could get service." Her voice falters a bit. Of all the people to find her, of course it had to be him. Who else would whatever gods that be send to make an already bad day even worse?
Maybe he'll spare her if she pleads. "Please don't tell anyone I was in here! I mean, you yourself told me 'no interns allowed'…" She makes her voice deeper as she imitates him. Then her voice grows even more desperate, her words quickening with each syllable. "And well we had already had sex so I have no idea how Bailey might react because I've never even hugged Bailey or Dr. Yang oh god please don't tell Dr. Yang I was in here, she'll literally punch me and-"
Alex curls his upper lip and narrows his eyes, trying to decipher her frantic plea. Her eyes look like they've expanded to three times their size. Her hands are two blurs of quick, wild gestures, and her words don't even sound like words anymore. "Okay, okay," he finally interjects with a sigh, holding his hands into a halting gesture. He crosses the room to his locker, shoes padding lightly on the burgundy carpet. "Relax, I won't tell anyone."
But, Lexie discovers as she looks at his face, it's apparent that he's the one who needs to relax. His cheeks are pale, and wan-looking. His chin all the way up to his sideburns is covered with more stubble than usual, and dark purple circles have formed under his eyes. It looks as if he hasn't slept for days. As a nice person, she might have been more concerned, bus as the ex, she's not.
"Well…okay," she murmurs. "I know that you and I aren't on the greatest terms right now, so I figured I'd have to beg." She looks down at her feet, wallowing in her humiliation. He pulls his bag out of his locker with either a noise of agreement or a grunt of exertion; Lexie wasn't quite sure which.
Then, her curiosity finally got the better of her. "Why are you leaving so late?" she asks, barely raising her head to look at him, quirking a perfect dark eyebrow. She knows for a fact that the other residents and attendings have already left; she'd been spying on the lounge from around the corner until she heard nobody coming or going.
Alex looks apprehensively at her, toward the door, and then back at the intern. "There's just…something I had to take care of," he explains vaguely in a quick, nervous voice. It seems out of character to her, and she's surprised. He's obviously uncomfortable, so she drops it.
"Okay, then."
"Yeah."
He starts for the door, but before he can step across the threshold, Lexie's mouth opens. She can't stop that dreaded verbal diarrhea from spilling out once again. "Alex, wait." Her voice is a mere squeak, and it's followed immediately by a wince.
He spins to meet her gaze once again, facial expression now once of complete impatience. He waits, arms akimbo. Lexie curses herself silently and goes on with her burning question. "About today, did…did you really-"
For the second time, he cuts her off before she has a chance to finish. "Look, Little Grey." She winces again, hoping that the name is just a concoction of Alex's complete asshole-ness and not a commonly-used nickname amongst the other doctors. His voice is hard, yet rational and explanatory. "I didn't forget we had sex. A guy like me never forgets a screw…especially a good one. Because trust me, it was good. You don't have to worry about that." He raises his eyebrows and smirks, flashing her with his oh-so-debonair, cocky grin. It's marred somewhat by his exhaustion, but the point gets across nonetheless. God, if Lexie wasn't so furious with him and he wasn't so obviously preoccupied with somebody else, she would have jumped his bones right then and there.
"Oh, thank you so much," Lexie half-exclaims. It's amazing that she can actually feel her wounded pride beginning to heal, the gaping tears in her ego slowly becoming bonded once more. "It's sad, but I was really worried about that." She lets out something between a laugh and a snort. "I actually just called three of my exes to make sure that I'm unforgettable," she admits sheepishly, shaking her head at her foolish actions. The idea seems really, really, awful now.
Alex begins laughing, truly laughing, then, a hearty sound coming from his diaphragm. His eyes become considerably brighter, and, although the laughter is at her expense, Lexie can't help but giggle right along with him. She can sense a small portion of the awkwardness between them being lifted. But, then, like gravity, her mood fell once again as she realizes her next question.
"Then why didn't you put me on your form at first?"
Alex's laughter stops abruptly. He expels a small huff of air through his nose and grimaces as he glances again at the door. Shaking his head, giving the negative to an internal decision, he plops down heavily next to her on the sofa. Resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, he rubs his eyes and forehead. "Look, Lex," he begins, using her proper name this time, "I'm an honest guy. But you knew that, right?" he asks, his voice softening as he looks into her deep honey-colored eyes, as if trying to soothe a small child. Lexie nods, the corners of her mouth tugging down into a pout.
"The reason I didn't put you on your form is because of Sex Police Chief O'Malley." He adds a scoff to the "official" title. "I know that you two just moved in together. And, if I'm not totally losing my mind – which I don't think I am – I'm pretty sure that you have kind of a thing for him. You might not have gotten over your beef with me to have realized it yet, but I can see it."
Lexie stares, incredulous, mouth gaping. This was definitely not the explanation she was expecting. It was George they were talking about, here. Everybody's friend, George. The thought was kind of ridiculous to her. She forms the beginning of a word, but he holds one finger up, apparently not finished. "O'Malley and I haven't exactly been best buddies in the past, so I didn't want to associate myself with you like that, on paper, for him to see or hold against you." He returns to his feet, dipping his chin, not breaking the eye contact between them. Lexie nods, eyes narrowed, still utterly befuddled by the enigma of his actions, but appreciative deep down.
"That, and the fact that I'm pretty wrapped up in someone else right now," he states bluntly, shrugging his shoulders. Lexie closes her eyes and sniffs a small, single laugh at the typical behavior.
Moments pass. Lexie intently studies her shoes as Alex becomes extremely preoccupied with a piece of peeling paint on the doorframe.
"Did I ever have a chance?" the woman asks abruptly, warranting a surprised eyebrow-raise from Alex. She makes a mental note that she should really get that spontaneous speaking checked out. He's perfectly silent as he looks at her, lip turned up again in a perplexed expression. Great, she thinks. It's going to be a monologue, just like so many other recent important conversations in her life.
Well, she's going to look very stupid if she doesn't say something else immediately. The rest comes out in a garbled run-on sentence, both hands flitting about like hummingbirds. "I mean, if we lived in a perfect world where your girlfriend didn't exist, and my estranged half-sister wasn't one of your housemates, and if we had easier jobs, and we didn't work in a place where some kind of neurological agent is obviously piped in through the vents, causing relationships to be built on virtually nothing and fail quickly and miserably?"
As she finishes, the only sound in the room is her heavy breathing, her attempt to catch her breath after the half-hysterical outburst. Her eyes narrow at him and she feels the burning of tears at the rims, tears of half-embarrassment and half-frustration. For another few excruciating seconds, he says nothing. He just turns his back to her, facing the doorway.
Finally, he speaks. He doesn't turn back or even look over his shoulder. His tone is melancholy and almost regretful. "In that perfect world, yes. I could see a chance for you and me. But, unfortunately, we don't live there. There's no way it could have worked out well. You and I, we're out of time."
Without another word, he walks out the door, leaving her alone in the lounge once more. She stands to watch him stride down the hallway before and then disappear into an elevator. Their eyes never meet.
Keeping her gaze fixed on the floor, she lightly sits back down. She sighs deeply and places a delicate hand over her eyes. For the last time, she allows herself to revel in the future that could have been.
But, she'll eventually have to return to the imperfect present, where she's expecting three very awkward phone calls very soon.
