Derek had left. After figuring out that Meredith was completely serious about not loving him anymore, and after he was completely sure that Addison was not going to take him back, Derek left. He was supposedly in New York now, picking up the shattered pieces of whatever life he had left. And quite frankly, Seattle Grace Hospital ran a lot smoother without him around. People weren't as tense, relationships weren't being committed in secret, and Addison and Meredith could have civilized conversation without the awkward silences that always seemed to pop up. Life was good.

Life was too good for Meredith Grey. In all of her years of experience, when life got this good, when you had a steady relationship with a guy you really liked, when you had great friends, when you had a great job, when there was always chocolate cake in the kitchen when you got home from work, something bad was about to happen. Something bad had to happen, or else life would just keep getting better and better. And apparently God didn't want that. Apparently you had to have let downs so you can really enjoy the high points of your life. Or whatever.

It had been a month since Derek had left, four solid weeks of serene calmness. Well, the surgical floor was as calm as it could be during a dry spell anyway. The board was quiet, which led all of the Attendings and Residents to chatter incessantly about how any surgery that they performed was going to fail. It was sort of strange to have such a slow board. Normally, the surgical floor was one of the only specialties in the hospital that never had a dry spell. People did stupid things, like fall off of roofs, and then they needed stitched up. It was the stupidity of man. As long as there was man, there would always be a job for surgeons. There would always be a surgery to perform.

Apparently man had gotten smarter since last month. At least today was slower then most. Just yesterday there had been a three car pileup. Most of the hospital staff had been there into the wee hours of the night. The interns had been in the middle of a forty-eight hour shift. They, for one, were happy that for once there were no surgeries to fight over, no patients to prep, and no family members to console. The Attendings and Residents were another story entirely.

"That's a quiet board," Burke would murmur.

"You know what a quiet board means." The Chief eyed his surgeons with a wary glance. "Death."

Mark stood between the two with his arms folded behind his head. He examined the board as casually as if he were looking up his horoscope. "Come on. That's just a myth." Webber and Burked exchanged glances.

"He'll have the first fatality," the Chief murmured jabbing his thumb in Sloan's direction. "He doubts the system."

"Yeah?" Mark gave a cocky sort of grin. "Care to put your multimillion dollar salary where your mouth is?" Webber's brow wrinkled slightly. "We'll see if the I'm the first to have a patient die." He tapped the surgery schedule with his knuckles. "I've got two surgeries before your first one's done. Pretty good odds I'd say."

There was a moment's pause in which Burke nudged the Chief lightly. Webber rubbed his temples slightly at Mark's extended hand. With a heavy sigh he shook on it, a smirk sliding onto his face. "We'll see, Sloan..."

"You want in too, Burke?"

"Well," he paused to adjust the scrub cap on his head before leaning forward and shaking on the bet. "Yeah, I'm in."

Addison sped passed the men without a second glance, apparently heading for a delivering mother. She doubled back, however, staring at the board with an eyebrow arched. "Quiet board," she mumbled stopping at the nurses' station and pulling a carton full of coca from beneath it. Mark gave a knowing sort of grin as she made to pass again, handing them each a cup of the liquid. "Good luck, Mark." Addison headed back down the hallway, pausing to cast a glance over her shoulder. "Try not to kill anyone, okay?"

Mark gave her a mock salute as he took a long drawl from his cup. "I just got jujued." The other two stared from him to the cups of cocoa and back again. "It's good luck, man. I'm not losing this bet." Burke and Webber shared disbelieving looks. The Chief opened his mouth to respond just as Bailey materialized from out of a post-op patient's room.

"Where are the suck-ups?" She looked irritated. Bailey got irritated when she got no sleep. Irritation rates were also high when she couldn't find her interns.

"Excuse me?" Mark was halfway through a sip of 'juju' and nearly spit it out. "Your suck-ups? I believe one of them belongs to me. Unless you'd like to throw in the blonde as extra. I wouldn't object to that." Bailey ignored Sloan's cheesy grin. She, apparently, was one of the only women in the entirety of Seattle Grace who was immune to it.

"What exactly are we talking about?" Webber mumbled after drinking some of his own cocoa. "Suck-ups?" Bailey rolled her eyes lightly, catching Burke's glance.

"Oh, she means her interns. Her ass-kissing, surgery hungry, competitive suck-ups." Doctor Burke gave a low chuckle. "Because last time they disappeared like this a heart was stolen. We wouldn't want that to happen again, would we?"

The Chief paused for a brief moment, as if debating whether or not Bailey had the right to call her interns such things. In the end he must have found she did have that right, because he simply sipped his juju and walked away. Burke muttered something about a patient he needed to check up on, which left Mark with Doctor Bailey. Correction, he was alone with Doctor Bailey. He held his hands up in a surrender gesture. "Don't look at me! If I knew where Meredith was she wouldn't be wherever she is right now if you catch my drift."

Bailey gave a disgusted sort of growl as she shuffled away. Mark smiled to himself. "Today's a good day."

The ass-kissing, surgery hungry, competitive suck-ups happened to be locked up in Really Old Guy's room for the day, relaxing and generally avoiding work of any kind. Cristina was practicing stitching on an old stuffed bear, Alex was exchanging baseball cards with a bemused George, Izzie had her nose buried in a book. This book happened to be about pregnancy, which she wasn't actually reading. In fact, the entire point of this book being in the room, and the point of Izzie reading it, was to annoy Meredith. Everything was to annoy Meredith.

Meredith, however, was completely content sprawled out on the floor of the room, apparently counting ceiling tiles. "Remind me again your symptoms." She tilted her head slightly to the side as she gave Izzie her pouty frown.

"I'm not pregnant," Meredith insisted, rolling her eyes lightly as she pushed herself to a seated position. Cristina and Izzie were making eye contact, most likely plotting against her.

"You said you're having abdominal pain," George muttered behind a hand of cards. Meredith gave him a sort of 'no cake for you' look, which he returned with a "But maybe you just swallowed a shard of glass. You never know."

"Well it's not appendicitis," Alex muttered, folding his cards onto the windowsill and smiling faintly. "We already endured that procedure. Maybe you just swallowed something. Does Sloan have a piercing down there? He could probably do it himself so..." Meredith chucked the chocolate chip cookie she'd stolen from Izzie's batch at his head. He caught it.

"Stop it, Alex," Cristina muttered as she tossed him the repaired teddy bear. He caught it. "We all know you have the undying desire to see Mark Sloan's penis, but please, spare us the details."

"FYI it's not pierced." Meredith had that happy after-sex grin on her face again. Izzie closed her book and whipped it at Alex's head. He missed, which shut him up and sent George into a laughing fit. "I want Oreos. With peanut butter."

"Weird food cravings!" Izzie declared, pointing at Meredith. "Everyone knows food cravings are a sign of pregnancy."

"Oreos and peanut butter is not a weird food craving," Meredith insisted, blowing a bit of hair out of her face and continuing her counting of tiles.

"Come on, Mer, that's a weird food craving," Izzie pestered looking to the others for support.

"Yeah, normal people don't mix a perfectly good cookie with peanut butter," George agreed, now hovering over a sitting Alex and staring at his forehead. "You broke skin! Here, I'll stitch it up." Alex shoved him away, blotting at the small cut with his hand.

"Sit down, O'Malley. It's just a bruise."

"It's gonna scar if you don't-" Alex cut him off.

"I like scars."

"Back to Meredith," Cristina murmured now hovering near the doorway and peering out. Every fifteen minutes someone would scan for Bailey. If she was anywhere near by they'd all need to find work. Or at least look like they were working. Or else they'd end up doing rectals all day. "She not exactly normal. Besides, it's not like she's having the urge to eat strawberries dipped in ranch dressing or something."

"You mean like you did when you were pregnant?" Cristina shot George 'the look'. He quieted instantly, averting his gaze to the floor.

"Dude," Alex smirked, "Yang even looks at you funny and you hide behind me."

"I wasn't hiding. Anyway- back to Meredith." Meredith groaned loudly, pushing herself to her feet. She couldn't concentrate on counting her ceiling tiles anymore anyway.

"Why is the topic of choice always me?" The four shared glances. From Izzie's amused to George's awkward, and Alex's sly smirk Meredith could deduce one thing.

"Ever since Shepherd left, all the drama has stopped. You're the most exciting thing in the entire hospital. Plus, being pregnant is a big deal..."

"I am NOT pregnant."

"Congratulations, Doctor Grey." Meredith's eyes widened slightly. The others were shooting her 'run like hell' looks. She swerved around to find herself face to face with Doctor Bailey. She took hasty steps back before sliding between George and Izzie, trying to avoid the deadly snarl growing on their Resident's face. "So, what exactly are we doing in a vegetable's room? O'Malley." A collective silent groan was shared among the interns; it was known fact that George was a terribly liar, especially under pressure.

"Well, we, uh, that is Doctor Bailey sir- MA'AM!" He shuffled his feet nervously, apparently unable to string together a comprehensible sentence without telling the truth. "I-we-you..." Bailey palmed her forehead before pointing wordlessly to Meredith. Her heart sank, brain working overtime to figure out some sort of viable excuse.

"We were running charts just like you said to, but George couldn't find Really O-" Alex shot her a glance. "-the patient's chart. So Izzie came to help, and Alex was walking by when he walked into the corner of the wall and cut his head open and we were telling him he needed stitched up but-" Bailey held up a hand. Meredith stopped.

"Next time you're gonna lie to me, make sure your story's actually believable." She stared from one intern to the next before pointing at George. "Doctor Montgomery. Go." O'Malley shuffled off quickly, almost like a dog with its tail between its legs. Bailey gestured to Cristina. "Chief's got a Whipple. Go." Next to Izzie. "Charts." She opened her mouth to argue and Bailey arched a brow slightly. Izzie backed off, snatching her cookies from a nearby chair and exiting the room. "Karev, go get that stitched up. If you really are dumb enough to walk into a wall, you better be smart enough to know that'll scar. Go."

Bailey turned away just as Alex slunk out of the room. Meredith tilted her head slightly to the side, fearing the worst. Knowing Bailey hated liars, which she did so very much, she was going to be stuck doing rectals all day. It was funny, Meredith thought, that she'd get worse for lying then with sleeping with an Attending. "Doctor Bailey?" She managed, voice already sounding defeated. Her Resident turned around, a frown upon her lips.

"I thought you of all people would know where you belonged." Meredith's forehead wrinkled. "Your Attending requested you again." She had to hide the smile daring to burst out at her lips. Mark had saved her again. "Go."

GA

"I've already had one successful surgery today," the plastic surgeon declared to his team. "I intend to have another one." Mark gave Meredith a knowing glance. Though everyone knew Mark wanted to have a successful surgery, they were the only two who knew that there was another reason besides having a happy liposuction patient. Mark wanted to win his bet. "Alright. Let's go."

Though she was standing extremely close to Mark and hovering right over the surgery taking place, Meredith wasn't paying much attention to it. Though she'd never seen a liposuction before, and in her month of Derek-free bliss she'd seen a lot of plastic surgeries, she just wasn't into it. This time, she wasn't completely distracted by Mark's ass, but with her churning stomach. She felt sick, like she'd probably throw up, and watching a woman's fat literally being sucked up a tube was not helping her situation much. "What's a matter, Grey? Don't have the stomach for it?" Meredith shot him a glare. "Sorry. PMSing must suck."

Meredith gave a forced grin from behind her mask. Though why she did so when Mark clearly could not see it was beyond her. It probably had something to do with smiling at nearly everything he said, not because it was at all funny or amusing, but because his voice made her warm inside. It made her feel happy.

When the tube began filling with blood, and when Mark began shouting a stream of curses and to stop suction immediately, Meredith lost it. Mark didn't yell, at least not around her, and it wasn't helping the sudden light-headed feeling she was getting. The sight of blood mixed with fat was not a pleasant one, and when you felt like you were going to vomit it wasn't a pretty picture. Jamming a button on her pager, an alarm, Meredith felt relief wash over her for only a second when she was allowed to slip out of the OR unnoticed because she was 'paged'. After that brief moment she simply felt like she was going to hurl again.

She made her way to the nearest bathroom at a nearly running pace, hand clamped over her mouth. She passed the desk Izzie was seated at, not daring to attempt to answer her "Surgery over already? Sloan lost her, didn't he?" for fear that something other then words would come out. Meredith burst into the bathroom ten seconds later, ignoring Cristina perched on the sink and charging into an empty stall.

"Morning sickness sucks, doesn't it?" was Cristina's easy reply to the sound of Meredith's heaves. Izzie appeared in the door a moment later, head tilted slightly to the side in question. "Meredith's having her first bout with morning sickness. Isn't the miracle of life amazing?"

Izzie gave a wry sort of smile. "Told you, Mer. You're definitely pregnant."

When Meredith shuffled out of the stall looking considerably paler then before, she managed a choked "Not pregnant. Just sickened by liposuction."

"If the sight of blood makes you sick, I'd consider switching to another career." She ignored Cristina's sarcasm as she tied her hair up again and washed her hands, rinsing her mouth out and staring at herself in the mirror. Even Meredith would admit she looked terribly. Her eyes had deep circles under them, she was deadly pale, and her hair had pieces of chocolate chip cookie in it. Wonderful.

"Why aren't you in surgery?" She finally sputtered, turning to Cristina.

She sighed heavily, flinging a tampon wrapper to the ground. "The Chief lost her." Meredith couldn't help but smirk lightly. Mark had won his bet.

"Mood swings," Izzie chimed in, leaning against the counter. "A second ago you were all in denial, which coincidentally is a sign of pregnancy, and now you're all happy. What gives?"

"I can be happy," Meredith muttered. Cristina and Izzie shared a glance. "I'm happy a lot now."

"Believe me, Mer, we've noticed. But you're also happy then sad then irritated then happy again a lot lately, too." Cristina rolled her eyes lightly and leaned forward. "We all know you and McSteamy are getting hot sex, but that annoying after-sex grin and giggle thing you do? Really annoying."

"So is the after-sex after-grin-and-giggle bitch fit," Izzie pointed out. "Not exactly the most flattering thing."

"I'm not having moods wings," Meredith muttered, white knuckles clutching the sink. She was not pregnant. She wasn't. She'd know if she was pregnant, right? "And I am not pregnant." She pulled a sandwich out of her pocket and took a bite. Her companions were slightly surprised when said sandwich crunched loudly.

"Uh, Mer? What's on that sandwich?"

She looked at Izzie, swallowing and shrugging lightly. "Potato chips, chocolate chips, and whipped cream." Cristina gave a groan. Izzie laughed. "What?"

"That's definitely a weird food craving," Cristina muttered. "I had the same one." Meredith dropped the remains of her sandwich into the trash and ran a hand over her face in irritation.

"What do I have to do to prove to you guys that I'm not pregnant?"

Izzie fished an item from her lab coat and dangled it in front of Meredith. "Take a pregnancy test. It's the only way we'll really believe you." Cristina nodded her consent before snatching the package from Izzie's hands and examining it. Her eyes narrowed as she read over the box, making sure it was a viable brand before tossing the thing to Meredith.

She blinked, staring down at the test in her hand. "Remember if it turns blue, baby for you!" Meredith really didn't need to hear Cristina's scary, singsong voice right now. A series of memories were flying through her brain in quick succession, almost like a film strip. There were many sex dates she'd had since Derek left -she held her breath- and two incidents before Derek left. Her heartbeat had gotten caught in her chest. She really wanted peanut butter and Oreos right now. Could she be pregnant?

"Fine," Meredith finally conceded, fiddling with the pregnancy test as she entered one of the unoccupied stalls. The sound of Izzie's laughter rang in her ears as she locked the door.

Five minutes later she was still sitting in there. "Meredith?" They'd been calling for three minutes now. She'd checked. It'd been four minutes since...

Oh, God.

It was blue.


Doc's Note: Hey guys. Yep, a sequel is in the air. I've been trying to get this uploaded since yesterday, but fanfiction was being weird and not letting me upload any documents. Anyway, 'Anatomy of a Relationship'. You're probably wondering what I'm talking about. Be patient and you might find something interesting in later chapters...

DISCLAIMER: Doc does not own Grey's Anatomy. If Doc owned Grey's Anatomy there would be now 'fall finale' type break. Seriously.