A/N: Okay, so this is the semi-raunchy effect of my study break from finals. Hope you enjoy it , especially Pooh and Amanda, my super-smutty friends :-)

I don't own Grey's, but if I did, this is what WOULD have happened at the end of Desire.

Following the rejection of George and Addison, can two members of the Dirty Mistresses' Club find comfort in one another? Set immediately after Desire. Mark and Izzie pairing.

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George is transferring to Mercy West. George is transferring to Mercy West.

The thought reverberated through Izzie's mind as she quickly made her way to the linen closet, hoping to find a sanctuary among the walls of bed sheets and pillowcases. She did her best to swallow the lump in her throat as she wondered how they had gotten to this point. A few months prior, Izzie would have immediately sought out George in such a time of personal crises, knowing that, as her best friend, he would unquestionably support her no matter what was going on in her life, but now Izzie found herself without a best friend to lean on, and her loneliness was slowly suffocating her.

George is transferring to Mercy West.

Tears stung her eyes as she rounded the corner of the hallway, racing to her destination. Things would never be the same between her and George, she knew. He was her penis fish, and no matter how hard she tried to ignore him, he had lodged himself inside of her and now her mind couldn't block out the image of their bodies moving drunkenly together in the darkness of her bedroom. She knew in her heart that he would never belong to her. He didn't want her, and he was actually transferring to a hospital on the other side of Seattle to escape the presence of her in his life.

George is transferring to Mercy West.

A sob escaped her lips as her hand turned the knob of the linen closet door, and she threw her self into the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she rested her forehead against the door, and she let the sobs escape freely from her grief-ridden body.

"Stevens?" a male voice unexpectedly called behind her, startling her from her weeping.

She jumped at the intrusion and spun around to face the other occupant of the room. "Dr. Sloan?" she asked, surprised to find the cocky attending sitting dejectedly on the floor of the linen closet. Wasn't this closet reserved for the angst-ridden moments of the interns? "What are you doing in here?" she asked quietly.

He flashed Izzie a sardonic smile. "Oh you know, wallowing in my own self-pity and self-loathing," he told her. "What's the matter with you?" he asked immediately, turning the conversation away from himself before she had a chance to pry into his life.

Izzie wiped the tears from her face, embarrassed to be caught in such a state by her superior. "Nothing," she told him, her quivering voice betraying her internal suffering.

"Clearly," he said sarcastically as he stood up from his position on the floor. When he walked toward her, Izzie looked shamefully at the ground, shielding her tearstained face from his sight.

As Mark looked down on the vulnerable woman before him, sympathy coursed through him briefly, but it was quickly squandered by his own torment as a memory passed through his mind of Addison and Karev leaving that very linen closet obviously flushed with sexual satisfaction.

Before Izzie had entered it, Mark had been sitting in that closet, wallowing in self-pity for the better part of an hour. He had come straight here following his confession to Addison concerning his "failure" at complying with their sixty day pact. He had thought that following Meredith's advice to "let her go" would somehow help him move on with his life, but if anything, he now felt more miserable and alone than he had before. Looking down at Izzie, he took comfort in knowing that there was someone who felt as miserable as he did. "Seriously, what's the matter with you? You're not falling in love with another patient, I hope," he said, knowing he was being an ass, yet not really caring.

She looked up sharply when the words escaped his tongue, anger flashing in her eyes just as he knew it would. "You're such a bastard," she hissed, turning toward the door to leave. She managed to open the door only a few inches before he reached out and slammed in shut, his hand remaining firmly against it, effectively trapping her between him and the door. Izzie turned around to face him, her faced flushed with frustration. "What's your problem?" she demanded.

He leaned his face in so that they were only inches apart. Izzie's breaths came in angry huffs as Sloan looked down on her, his lips so close they were almost touching hers. In a low voice, he said harshly, "If you don't want to tell me about your petty little problems, fine. I was just trying to be helpful."

She was startlingly aware of the loss of his body heat when he stepped away, walking to the other side of the linen closet so that she could leave, and she was once again painfully conscious of how alone she felt. "I slept with a married man," she suddenly blurted out, startling both of them with her confession. She hadn't meant to tell him, really she hadn't. First Burke and now Sloan; it was like verbal diarrhea of the worst kind, but she suddenly felt that if she didn't talk about it, she would explode. "It was George; I slept with George. We got drunk and had sex, only it wasn't bad drunk sex, it was good drunk sex, and now I can't stop thinking about it. But of course he doesn't want to hurt Callie, so its suppose to be our little secret, only we can't seem to even work together without this awkward tension between us, so now George is transferring to Mercy West to get away from me, and I…I…"

Mark had stared at her with a blank expression the entire time the words tumbled from her mouth, but his expression softened when he saw her struggling to maintain her composure. She looked away from his face when she saw his gentle expression, feeling as though she didn't deserve his understanding. "Don't look at me like that," she begged quietly.

Mark held up his hands in innocence and smiled softly. "Hey, as the president of the Dirty Mistresses' Club, you'll get no judgment from me."

"Yes, well I deserve your judgment. I did a terrible, terrible thing," she said quietly, closing her eyes at the painful thought of the damage that had been done to her and George's relationship.

Mark sighed. "Yeah, well we all make mistakes," he told her gravely.

She looked at him appreciatively, realizing that out of everyone, Mark Sloan was the least likely to judge her for her adulterous blunder. Nodding her head with a small smile, she confirmed, "Yeah, I guess we do."

As silence fell over them, Mark suddenly felt uncomfortable in the tiny, emotionally charged space. Needing to lighten the mood, he grinned sarcastically and said, "So, you actually spread those gorgeous legs of yours for O'Malley, huh?" He didn't know exactly why he took such pleasure in pressing her buttons, but he was never disappointed by her snappy responses.

A frown once again fell upon her face and she glared at him, angrily spitting out, "That's a funny statement coming from the hospital's residential manwhore."

The McSteamy grin immediately fell from his face. The words stung in light of his recent conversation with Addison, and irritation compelled him to walk toward her quickly, a scowl marking his features. Seeing his serious expression, Izzie's eyes widened slightly and she took a step backward, but she found herself pressed up against the door unable to move. He stared her in the eye, his gaze only wavering long enough to for him to look at her full, parted lips as she breathed nervously before him. "You know nothing about me," he growled as his mouth came crashing angrily onto hers.

She struggled against him, using her arms to push his chest away from her own in a feeble attempt to put a stop to what was so obviously on its way to becoming yet another sexual mistake. He paid no attention to her struggles, however, and his hands came to rest momentarily on her hips before lightly tracing the hem of her scrubs. "Don't" she demanded weakly against his lips, though her protest was merely a formality because nothing had felt this good to her in a long time and, God help her, she didn't want him to stop.

As Mark slowly untied the drawstring at the top of her scrub bottoms, Meredith's voice penetrated his mind. "Revenge sex is not the answer," she had told him after Jennings' candirú surgery. Yeah, well what did she know? She and Derek were quickly falling apart at the seams; she had no business giving out relationship advice.

When the drawstring on Izzie's scrubs came loose, he tugged her pants gently over her hips and let them fall to the floor, pooling at her feet. "Mmm," he said against her mouth. "You taste like…like cake," he whispered, running his tongue along her bottom lip.

He felt her laugh softly against him. "Wedding cake," she mumbled when he freed her mouth by placing kisses along her jaw.

Izzie had a hard time concentrating as Mark slowly moved his lips down to her neck, but she did know that he was greatly over dressed. Not feeling the need for subtleness, she dipped her hand inside of his scrub bottoms, feeling him tense as she wrapped her hands around the mighty force that drove Mark Sloan.

He paused in his ministrations against her neck as he felt her hands wrap around him, unable to focus as his lungs suddenly emptied of oxygen. He wasn't sure if it was the thirty-two days of no sex or if it was the obvious chemistry he had with the woman before him, but Mark hadn't felt this out of control since he was a hormone-driven teenager scouring the girl's locker room for another girl to bed.

"Jesus, Izzie," he whispered hoarsely, reaching for the hem of her shirt.

Beep, beep, beep.

Mark and Izzie groaned simultaneously at the intrusion of the pager buried underneath Izzie's pants on the floor. Mark leaned his forehead against hers and sighed. "You've got to be kidding me," he whispered in frustration as Izzie gently removed her hand from the front of his scrubs.

She bent down and checked her pager, and then looked apologetically to Mark as she picked up her scrubs from the floor. "I'm sorry. It's my patient…" she explained as she struggled to replace her pants.

He nodded understandingly as he watched her straighten out her clothing, though the frustration he felt was clearly marked on his face. Izzie paused as she turned to leave, looking at him nervously. "Uh, what…what was this?" she asked, gesturing between Mark and herself.

He looked at her momentarily before smiling at her, running his hands through her mass of golden curls and bringing her head to his so that he could give her one last kiss. "Let's just say it was two Dirty Mistresses finding comfort in one another," he told her as they broke apart, and he watched her smile and walk out the linen closet door.

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Thanks for reading. This can easily exist as an oneshot, but I have some ideas for future chapters if anyone is interested in me writing them :-)

Reviews equal Lilly love