A/N: Written for a personal challenge given to me by Karevsanatomy. Pure foolishness! Hope you enjoy it.

"You guys have it really good," Mark said as he drained the last drops from the bottle of beer he'd been drinking.

Richard and Derek stared at each other, then at Mark, and then back at each other, their mouths hanging open.

"I broke up with Meredith and my clinical trial patients are dying," Derek replied, and Richard followed this with, "My wife threw me out and I live in the middle of nowhere in a trailer. A trailer!" He lifted an arm wide to indicate the landscape and the trailer that was now his home, then looked sheepishly at Derek. "No offence," he said.

Derek shook his head. "Think nothing of it," he said. "A trailer is not ideal."

"That's just it though," Mark said. "You guys have . . . somewhere. All I have is a hotel room." He looked down and shook his head. "It's not enough anymore. I can't turn over a new leaf living in a hotel room. There are too many memories. And too many women, every night, in the bar." He sighed. "Give me another beer," he said to Derek.

"Because you want another drink, or because you think if your blood alcohol level is high enough, I'll let you sleep over?" Derek asked with a soft laugh.

Mark smiled distantly. "Remember when we used to camp out in your backyard when we were kids?"

"No," Derek lied.

"That must've been nice," Richard said. "I never got to do that as a kid. First time I ever went camping was that time with you and Burke."

"I would never have guessed," Derek said, rolling his eyes, and Richard smiled, oblivious to the sarcasm.

"It was nice," Mark said in a wistful voice.

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. "Tell you what," he said. "Why don't I move into the hotel room and you two live here together?"

"Or why don't I buy a trailer and move onto your land?" Mark suggested and smiled hopefully at Derek.

"Just stop it," Derek said.

"Stop what?"

"Stop giving me that stray dog left out in the rain look."

"I'm not giving you any kind of look," Mark protested. "Looks are your thing, McDreamy." But his sad, pleading expression intensified.

"You're giving me your kicked puppy look, and you know it. Any minute now you'll start telling me that I'm the only family you have."

"You are the only family I have," Mark said.

Derek sighed, exasperated. "Okay, enough! The trailer thing . . . it's temporary. I want to build a house. He," he pointed at Richard, "really isn't supposed to be here. It just happened and he's moving out soon."

"I am?" Richard asked, dismayed.

"Aren't you?" Derek asked, but before Richard could reply, repeated, "It's temporary. I want to build a house. Even if," he paused and grew melancholy for a second, before he pulled himself together, "even if Meredith doesn't want to build it with me. I want to build a house. What I don't want," he looked pointedly at Richard and Mark in turn, "is to run some kind of trailer park for surgeons with washed-up personal lives."

Richard stared at him indignantly. "I am . . ." he glanced at Mark, "we are not 'washed up.' We're changing."

"Yeah," said Mark. "Turning over a new leaf."

"You know," Derek said. "That leaf would be more impressive if you talked about it less and actually turned it over from time to time."

Mark played with his empty beer bottle and gave a long, soft sigh. "It would be easier if I had a place."

Derek snorted. "Does this crap work on women?" he asked. "Because it certainly isn't working on —" He broke off before saying "me." Because, damn it, it was working. "Okay!" he said, with a gesture of unwilling surrender. "You can live here. But it's temporary. " He looked at Richard. "That goes for both of you." He turned back to Mark, who was now grinning at him. "Happy now?"

"Yeah," Mark said. "It'll be like old times, man. How it's supposed to be. You and me."

"And Richard," Derek said dryly, wanting to discourage Mark's sentimental rambling.

"Men!" Richard chimed in. "Roughing it! Out in the wilderness!"

"Oh, dear God!" Derek murmured and ran a hand over his face.

One of the things Derek liked best about his land was the quiet. How he could get up every morning, before the sun was up, and walk and fish for trout in silence, except for the sounds of nature waking up. This morning was no exception. It was misty, fresh, with just a hint of pink sunlight tinting the sky. Perfect! Derek stretched and yawned luxuriously, picked up his fishing tackle and turned to go back to the trailer for coffee and breakfast.

Then the blissful peace was shattered.

Birds flew up out of the trees and ducks skittered along the water at the unmistakeable roar of a huge diesel engine and the blaring of what could only be an air horn.

It had been a week since the discussion about new leaves and new homes. A week since Derek had stupidly agreed to let Mark move onto his land. A week during which nothing more had been said about the subject and Derek had assumed that Mark must have forgotten about it and it had all just been talk. But he hadn't seen much of Mark over the last few days and evidently the reason for this had just driven onto his property.

"You like her?" Mark shouted when he caught sight of Derek walking towards the clearing where the trailers were parked. He was standing proudly next to a massive RV.

"It's female?" Derek asked as he drew nearer, stalling for time. "I'm not sure 'like' is quite the word I'm looking for."

"She's great, isn't she?" Mark persisted, completely unaware of Derek's distaste for his new toy. "Top of the line 2008 Country Coach Intrigue." He thumped the RV affectionately several times, then glanced down a little self-consciously. "At least, that's what the guy said."

Derek laughed. "You put a lot of thought into this, I see." He squinted critically at the RV. "It's very . . . black and shiny."

"Yeah," Mark drawled appreciatively. "Want to see inside?"

"I guess so," Derek said. To him trailers were simple, a place to be real, in touch with things. This creation was pure fantasy.

But the exterior was nothing compared to the inside. It was unbelievable. It had polished wood flooring and a black leather couch, not to mention the state of the art kitchen area and the built-in plasma TV. Derek could only imagine the shower and the bedroom.

"I thought you wanted to move out of your hotel room," he said. "Not put it on wheels and drive it here."

Mark shrugged. "It's what they had for sale at short notice. And I like it." He leaned in confidentially and smirked. "The bed's great. Queen size; very firm."

Derek raised his eyebrows. "You've already tried the bed out?"

"Yeah, well . . . there was this girl at the salesroom and —"

"And the compulsion to turn over the old leaf was just too strong." Derek shook his head. "I thought the point of moving out here was to change."

"Rome wasn't built in a day," Mark shrugged. "I'm changing. I moved out of the hotel. It was just one last chance to scratch the itch. Trust me, the leaf is well and truly turned." He paused. "You got anything to eat? I'm starving."

"Trout," Derek said, adding, when Mark wrinkled his nose. "There's no room service menu here, my friend. It's trout or nothing. And you're doing your own laundry."

"This seems to be working out very well." Richard smiled at Derek and Mark as, three weeks later, they sat outside eating breakfast as usual.

"If you like trout," Mark complained morosely, pushing his food around the plate with his fork, "enjoy exclusively male company, and your list of things to do before you die includes 'memorize complete works of Marlon Brando.'" He glared at Richard.

"Or," added Derek, "if you like being woken up by off-key renditions of You Shook Me All Night Long — and, seriously, Mark, AC/DC?! — while your neighbor goes through your refrigerator at 4:00 am, finding that all your coffee's been used up and," now it was his turn to glare at Richard, "standing in line at the dry cleaner's when you have residents and patients waiting for you."

"'S a great song," Mark said.

"It's wish fulfilment. You're not having sex, so you sing about it instead. If it can be dignified by the term 'singing.'"

"I'm turning over a new leaf!"

"We know!" Derek and Richard chorused.

Mark grunted, but didn't reply, and they all sat in slightly resentful silence for the next few minutes.

"Derek," Mark said finally. "Can I ask you a favor?"

Derek raised his eyebrows skeptically, wondering what was coming next.

"I sort of have a date and I was thinking . . . since you do Richard's laundry . . . "

Derek gave one short, dry laugh. "You were thinking that maybe I'd clean up your trailer?" he joked sarcastically. "Run the vacuum cleaner around? Do a little dusting?"

Mark shifted around awkwardly. "Well, yeah. You've had practice at that stuff, right? You should see this woman. She's —"

Derek's pager went off loudly in his ear, and he woke with a startled yelp and sat up too fast on the on-call room bed, banging his head on the underside of the top bunk. He looked around, rubbing his skull, disoriented, and then focused on the pager, still beeping from its place on the pillow. He picked it up and read the code, confused at first. Then it dawned on him. "Oh, thank God!" As he swung his legs around and stood up off the bed, he planted a kiss on the pager and let out a wild laugh. He was at work! He read the reassuring code again. That wasn't his life. It never happened. Mark never moved in; Richard moved out; he was back with Meredith and they were building their house. It never happened. He'd just worked too hard and seen too much of Mark and too little of Meredith, that's all. He'd been dreaming. Dreaming! As he left the on-call room, he breathed a deep sigh of relief.