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"Looks like we're going to be spending a lot of time together," he said, giving her another "McSteamy" grin.

Chapter 4: Crash into Me

Izzie watched as two men in contamination suits came in and took away Mrs. Rosenberg while another stuck signs on the doors and windows on the room, alerting everyone who walked by of the situation.

"Um, excuse me?" Izzie said, trying to get the attention of one of the men in the giant white suits. "How long do you think we'll be stuck in here for?" she asked, her voice shaking with a hint of desperation.

She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard a snicker of amusement come from one of the men. However, neither replied and they just wheeled away the body, immediately shutting the door behind them.

"The incubation period for the virus can be anywhere from 2 to 21 days," Mark told her, lounging comfortably in the armchair Mr. Rosenberg had been occupying what it seemed like only moments before.

"We could be in here for 3 weeks?!" Izzie asked, stunned.

"Yeah. It's possible," he said, amazingly calm considering what had gone down in the past half hour or so." But it's also possible the tests they're going to run on Mrs. Rosenberg will determine that it wasn't actually Ebola and we'll be out of here in 3 hours."

"So you're saying our options are either 3 hours or 3 weeks," Izzie reiterated.

"Basically," Mark said, shrugging.

"How could you possibly so calm about this?" she asked, still in shock.

"It's not like we can do anything about it," Mark stated reasonably. "Freaking out is not going to change the situation."

Mark's calm demeanor was starting to irritate Izzie. "You know, if you had actually listened to the rules for once in your life, I wouldn't be in this situation right now."

He let out a snort of laughter. "You're actually blaming this on me?" he asked, eyebrow raising and grin widening.

"Yeah," she stated like it should have been obvious.

Mark looked at her for a moment, his eyes gleaming. "Would you care to explain to me how this is my fault?"

Izzie flopped down on the bed with a groan of frustration. "Do you realize how aggravating you are?" she asked him, almost laughing."How do you not get that this is your fault?"

He just looked at her with the same amused look on his face. Izzie rolled her eyes. "You want to know how this is your fault?" she asked him.

Mark simply nodded. "I told you that I couldn't interact with patients. I told you to have someone else paged. Youknew I wasn't supposed to go in that room. You shouldn't have let me do that." Izzie told him.

"Oh my, God. You are so selfish," he told her, shaking his head.

Izzie actually laughed out loud. "Oh, I'm the selfish one?" she asked incredulously. "Seriously?"

"You realize that you just told me that I should have gotten someone else to come look at Mrs. Rosenberg with me. And of course, that would mean someone else would be quarantined and you would get to home in a few hours," he said, looking at her with a smug look of self-satisfaction on his face.

Izzie's jaw dropped slightly. She quickly recovered and looked at Mark, narrowing her eyes. "You know that's not what I meant," she told him, although not very convincingly.

"Wasn't it?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

She folded her arms across her chest. "Well, maybe a little," she admitted grudgingly. "But there are so many other things I'd rather be doing than being stuck here with you."

"Seriously?" Mark asked, grinning.

"Yeah, well, uh...let's see," Izzie began sarcastically. "Things I'd rather do other than sitting here with you: listen to "Who Let the Dogs Out?" one thousand times in a row, spend a week with the kids from Laguna Beach, slather honey all over myself and spending the night in a bear colony, vote for George Bush again, watch infomercials for the rest of my life, eat nails, and, oh yea...gouge my own eyes out," Izzie finished, smiling sweetly and sarcastically.

Mark shook his head like he was coming out of a trance. "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you finished? I was too busy picturing the whole honey thing, so I kind of zoned out for the rest."

Izzie opened her mouth to retort, but before she could say anything, there was a tapping on the glass window of the door. Izzie whirled around to find Meredith waving her over. Izzie jumped up from the bed and rushed over to her friend.

"Izzie, what happened?" Meredith asked from behind the door. "Why doe these signs say 'Quarantine'? And is that McSteamy?" Meredith asked, trying to look around Izzie to get a glance of the attending.

"Meredith," Izzie said, trying to regain her friend's attention. "Meredith!" she said, snapping her fingers near the glass, close to Meredith's face.

Meredith snapped back to Izzie. "Huh, what?"

"Focus," Izzie told her, making sure Meredith was looking in her eyes.

"Oh, right. Sorry. I guess I got a little distracted for a minute," she said apologetically.

"No kidding," Izzie replied, rolling her eyes.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Mark called from the other side of the room.

Izzie turned around to give him another "look" and turned back to Meredith.

"We have to stay in here because we worked on a patient who might have had the Ebola virus and now we could possibly be infected.

Meredith eyes grew wide. "WHAT!?" she exclaimed, shocked.

"Tell me about it," she said, bitterly. "Symptoms can take up to 3 weeks to appear, which means we can't be let out until they're sure we don't have it."

"You might be in here for 3 weeks?" Meredith asked.

"Yeah, maybe. Unless the autopsy comes back and they find out Mrs. Rosenberg didn't actually have Ebola, and they'll let us go," Izzie said with a forced smile.

"Oh, I'm sure that's what's going to happen. You'll be out of here in no time," Meredith said, trying to sound optimistic.

Just then, Bailey came up from behind Meredith, holding papers in her hands.

"Are those the autopsy results?" Izzie asked eagerly.

Hearing her words, Mark got up from the chair and joined the other three by the door.

"Miranda?" Mark asked, prompting the doctor to deliver the news.

When Bailey didn't say anything right away, Izzie got nervous. "Dr. Bailey, you have that look," she said, her voice soft and shaky.

"What are you talking about, Stevens?" she asked.

"That look all doctors get when they're about to deliver bad news," she said, studying the elder doctor's face.

Bailey was taken aback. She opened her mouth to speak, but it seemed as if nothing would come out.

"Okay, uh, you see...I'm not really sure how to say this..." she began.

"Well you pretty much just said it all, didn't you?" Mark stated steadily.

"Dr. Sloan, Dr. Stevens," Bailey said slowly, looking intently at both her colleagues. "I'm afraid it's official. Mrs. Rosenberg died of complications following the contraction of the Ebola virus. To ensure you don't have, you'll have to stay in quarantine for a maximum of 21 days."