Dear Readers: Picking this story up again is going to be hard. Not because I'm not committed or still interested in the storyline. Far from it. I am very much invested. It is just difficult to do when my outline is on a laptop that died. I have read what I have of the story so far and I know how it ends. I just need to regroup how to get there. At any rate, I won't say I am sorry for taking so long to get back to this. If you aren't aware, my mother was sick. Nothing like cancer to distract you from fanfiction. She had surgery though and just got the all clear! Yay mom! I am so proud of her! Now that we have weathered that storm I have a tad bit more time for writing. Just a tad as I was promoted and will be undertaking several large projects. Thanks for being so understanding and supportive! You have no idea how much it means.

(This chapter is rather short but it gets us back in the game!)

Chapter Seven

A comfortable warmth wrapped itself around Izzie as she snuggled her face into the bunched up pillow beneath her head. Her lips parted as a sigh of contentment slipped past her lips. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so well. It hadn't been recently, that was for sure. Between work, the stress of her mother trying to hook her up with random single guys, and George's wedding she had become the poster child for insomnia. She tried to remember what had been different about last night. Nothing. Her mind was an empty void of fog. Beyond screwing Alex like some sex starve teenager and drinking too many fruity drinks. There was also a vague memory of George running his mouth about what really occurred prom night. A grimace twisted her face at the thought. Stupid George. What had she ever seen in him? Other than a protective barrier between her and her feelings for Alex. Alex! Bolting upright, Izzie sucked in her breath. She pushed a chunk of tangled blonde hair out of her eyes. Her heart started to pound. She was naked. In bed. With an equally naked man. She squeezed her eyes shut. Please be Alex! Please be Alex! Please be Alex! She silently chanted as she turned her face towards the body next to her. Taking a deep breath, she squinted one eye open. Alex. Asleep and snoring."Oh thank God," she whispered, fully opening her eyes.

On the nightstand next to the bed her phone started to buzz. Clutching the sheet to her bare chest, Izzie leaned over and reached for it. Her fingers brushed over a thick piece of embossed paper. Wrinkling her brow, she used the tips of her fingers to push her phone out of the way before picking the paper up. Her eyes quickly scanned the official looking document. A scream formed in her throat but came out as a small squeak instead. No, no, no! This wasn't happening. It had to be a joke. A sick joke that George was playing on them. "Alex!" She shoved at his bare shoulder. Nothing. "Alex," she said his name a little louder, pinching some of his tanned skin between her fingers. He sat up with a yelp, a scowl marring his handsome face. Rubbing at the offending spot, he asked what was wrong with her. Her lips parted, ready to tell him that George was sick but a loud pounding on the door interrupted her.

"Hold on,"Alex yelled, throwing back the covers. He tugged on his discarded boxers and stomped towards the door. Izzie scrambled over the side of the bed, frantically looking for something easy to throw on. She snatched up Alex's t-shirt and pulled it on just as he swung open the door. His step-brother Mark stood on the other side, his face a mask of fury. Before either of them could ask what he was doing there he sucker punched Alex in the gut. "What the fuck!"

"Yeah. What the fuck!" Mark snapped, his arctic blue eyes shifting from Alex to Izzie. His gaze narrowed. "I bet you're real proud of yourself, aren't you?" Before she could ask him what he meant Alex demanded to know what was going on. Mark wastes no time in whipping out his phone. With a few quick swipes he pulls up a text. Izzie peered over Alex's shoulder, her mouth drying. If George was playing a joke he was an expert prankster, and since George wasn't an expert anything, Izzie had this awful feeling that piece of paper she'd left discarded on the bed, along with the text Mark was showing them, was real. She closed her eyes and then reopened them. The text was still there. The picture of her and Alex in some cheesy wedding chapel showing off the marriage license that was lying on the bed.

"Iz," Alex bit out, his hazel eyes lifting from the phone screen to her face. "Tell me this is a joke."

Licking her lips, Izzie shook her head. She couldn't tell him what she didn't know. And she wasn't so sure it was a joke. The paper she'd found on the nightstand looked pretty official. "The certificate's on the bed," she whispered. Both men stared at her. She shifted from one foot to the other, suddenly aware of the fact that all she wore was Alex's t-shirt. It hit her mid-thigh, so she was fairly confident nothing was showing, but it still left her feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Alex strode towards the bed, yanking up the paper. She knew what he saw. One Alexander Michael Karev and Isobel Katherine Stevens were married. The official State seal on the bottom made it all legal. "Fuck," he muttered. Yeah. Her sentiments exactly.

"So...now what?" She looked at him expectantly. The idea of being married to Alex wasn't as horrifying as it should have been. He was her best friend. Her first and only lover. She loved him. It wasn't hard to picture living the rest of her life with him.

"Now we find a way to fix this mess," Mark answered. Izzie crossed her arms, waiting for Alex to tell him to mind his own business. The words never came. Blinking back tears, she mumbled something about needing a shower before stumbling towards the bathroom. She quietly shut the door, pressing her forehead against it. He could have at least told Mark to mind his own business, she thought as tears trickled down her cheeks. He could have at least acted like being married to her wasn't the worse thing in the world.