A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter of this story. Please keep the feedback coming, especially about whether or not you think that I'm keeping Shonda's creations in character. Some of the characters are more difficult for me to write, so your reviews would be especially helpful. Oh, and I realize that I'm sort of ripping off George's experience with running the Code team for Izzie, but I always wondered why she never had to do it, so there you have it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

"If I have to, like, listen to, like, one more, like, idiot blonde teenager say 'like', I'm going to Kevorkian someone," Christina threatened darkly, as she stirred her yogurt.

"Like, seriously," Meredith responded. At Christina's answering glare, she simply smirked.

"So much tulle. So many flowers. So many colors." George looked like he was shell-shocked.

"Oh, give it up O'Malley. You know you love it." Alex ribbed. "If you don't, I'll switch with you. Anything is better than just playing secretary and delivering labs all day."

"Whatever, Alex," Christina responded. "You just want to hit on the little teenie-bopper blondes in their skanky prom dresses."

"You know it," he replied with a wink.

"Will you all just shut up?" Izzie snapped. "Just. Shut. Up." And with that, Izzie took her tray and walked away from their table.

Meredith, George, Christina, and Alex looked at each other uncomfortably.

"What was that about?" Alex asked the other three.

"Guess the Code Team isn't going so well," Meredith postulated. The others nodded and continued to eat.

x x x x x

Derek walked the halls of New York Presbyterian. He wasn't really sure what to do with the rest of his evening, so he decided to visit his replacement and enjoy the familiarity of the hospital. This building had practically been his home for several years, and it felt good to be back, even if it was just for a few days.

"Dr. Shepherd," a voice behind him called. "I didn't know you were in town."

"Dr. Drane," he replied to the petite woman.

"Does this mean that I need to find another job?" she joked with him.

Derek laughed, "No, I'm only here for a few days on a specific case, but I thought I would drop by to see how you've been doing."

"Fine, fine," she assured him. "I'm enjoying New York more than I thought I would, thank goodness. I never really thought of myself as a city person, but the pizza here is just great."

"Yes, that it is." Derek smiled. He found the paradox of Dr. Drane being available to replace him on short notice because she needed to move to New York to be closer to her husband while he needed to leave in order to flee his wife both funny and painful, but mostly painful.

"So, fill me in what I've been missing around here," he jokingly commanded, needing to distract himself from his bitter inner monologue.

"Well," Dr. Drane began a summary of the more interesting surgeries and patients that had come through New York Pres in his absence, while Derek tried to pay attention.

x x x x x

"Code Blue, room 315. Code Blue, room 315," Alex heard over the PA system. He flipped the chart he was holding closed, shaking his head. Izzie was going to crack. That was the fourth code blue call he'd heard in the past half hour. He had to do something.

x x x x x

"Where are my earrings?" A teenager in a dress a shade of orange that was absolutely hideous with her coloring said as she frantically searched her purse and the gurney for her jewelry. "I know I put them on earlier, so where are they?" She was now checking the folds of her dress, as if somehow her skimpy dress that was barely covering her would hide her earrings.

Meredith was losing patience with the intoxicated eighteen year old. "Laura," she tried to get the girl's attention. "Laura, I need to see your arm. Please hold still."

"My earrings. I can't find my earrings."

"Laura, hold your arm still before you bleed all over your dress." There, Meredith thought, that got her attention. Punk kids. She hoped Derek was having a less aggravating day in New York.

x x x x x

"Thanks for showing me around, Vickie." In the past half hour, Derek and Dr. Drane had finally achieved a first-name basis.

"No, thank you Derek, for the opportunity to be here," she replied genuinely.

"You're welcome," he responded. "Though I can't help but worry that I'm going to regret having you as competition."

She laughed. "You flatter me, Dr. Shepherd."

"Not at all, Dr. Drane."

"Well, I need to prepare for surgery, but be sure to let me know if you need anything while you're here."

"I'll be sure to do that. It was good to see you."

"You too. Bye," she waved as she headed to the OR.

"Bye," Derek replied. He had truly enjoyed visiting with his successor. She was a lovely person and a gifted surgeon, and it had been fun to hear about some of his old patients and collegues.

Despite the lift his mood had taken, it had been a long, long day, so Derek decided that a cup of coffee was in order. He walked the familiar route to the nearest coffee machine and was adding cream and sugar when he heard two nurses that he didn't recognize talking.

"You mean, she knows?" the shorter one asked her friend, clearly concerned.

"Oh, she knows," her friend affirmed.

Hospital gossip, Derek thought. It never changes. He was about to walk away when he heard the taller nurse continue.

"I mean, Dr. Shepherd has always intimidated me—anyone who can perform surgery in Prada heels is a force to be reckoned with—but I actually feared for my life."

Derek tried to act nonchalant as he hung onto every word of the conversation.

"Well, she wouldn't have killed you in a hospital—too many people here could try to save your life," her friend tried to joke.

"Ha. Ha," the other woman deadpanned. "You weren't there. Luckily, I still had my pants on, but Mark was on top of me, so we couldn't exactly pretend that there was anything innocent about the situation."

"Yeah, I'd love to hear even Dr. Sloan sell that one."

"Oh, he tried. When she came into the on call room, she just looked at us in complete disgust, said, 'I should have expected this," and walked out."

"Yikes."

"Yeah. So, he practically leapt off me and chased after her. I don't really know what happened after that, but I heard that he cornered her in an exam room earlier today and that she was having none of it."

"She doesn't strike me as the kind of woman you screw around with, if you'll pardon the bad pun."

"No kidding. I'm terrified. I mean, how long do you think I need to avoid her before I can consider my life safe?"

"Well, this happened yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Then, I would say that you can probably stop watching your back in, oh, say, about two years, three months, and seventeen days."

"You are so funny," her friend made a face. "Just make sure that they have an open bar at my funeral, okay?"

"You bet," she responded, as the two friends walked out of Derek's earshot.

He was stunned. Mark had cheated on Addison. Mark and Addison were in a relationship where monogamy was expected. Addison . . . and Mark. Together. Did that mean that she hadn't cheated on him out of spite? Did that mean . . . Derek didn't think he could handle thinking about what that might mean. He had to get out of there.