A/N: This chap uses some extracts from GA. Thank you to the superb writers of GA. Hopefully you like the chap.

Take Care

This is the first day of my life

Swear I was born right in the doorway

I went out in the rain, suddenly everything changed

They're spreading blankets on the beach

Yours was the first face that I saw

I think I was blind before I met you

First Day Of My Life by Bright Eyes

After falling into my bed fully clothed, it's all too soon that my alarm is going off and I'm into the shower. I pull on my work clothes and stumble downstairs. I enter my kitchen and open my under stocked fridge. Breakfast, I need breakfast.. Left over toasted sandwich.. That'll have to do. I grab it and shove it in the microwave whilst I pack my bag. The microwave dings and I pull the melted cheese toasty out. Mmm. Yum.

On entering the hospital I follow the signs for the tour, sneaking into the OR as Chief Webber finishes speaking.

"Each of you comes today hopeful, wanting in on the game. A month ago you were in med school being taught by doctors. Today, you are the doctors. The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you. Say hello to your competition. Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play, that's up to you."

Nice speech Uncle Richard, I think to myself, it's demanding, insightful, honest, and a little bit shit scaring. Perfect.

I follow the other interns down to the locker rooms and change into my scrubs.

"Only 6 women out of 20." I say to my fellow interns, not really expecting much of a conversation from that observation.

"Yeah" the Korean girl from last night says whilst pulling her curly black hair into a ponytail "I hear one of them is a model. Seriously, that's gonna help with the respect thing."

"You're Cristina right?" Jeez, I hope I'm right. I'm pretty sure that what it is.

"Which resident you assigned to? I got Bailey." I take the lack of answer as a positive.

"I've got Bailey too."

"So have I!" A puppy dog faced guy says.

I smile as Cristina looks him up and down, curling her lip. "Good for you Bambi."

"I'm George! I met you last night.. at the, at the mixer." He says looking at me. I shift uncomfortably as he continues, "You were wearing the black dress, with the slit at the side? And strappy sandals.. and great.. now you think I'm gay."

I stand there unable to speak, as Cristina snorts in amusement.

"O'Malley, Yang, Stevens, Grey." A Doctor calls out. Cristina walks to the door, and I follow.

"I'm not. I'm not gay." George calls after us. His cheeks reddening as he realises how loud he said it. Luckily no one seems to be paying him much attention.

"Bailey?" Cristina asks the Doctor who called our names, he points to the end of the corridor.

"I'm Meredith" I say, trying to be polite and hoping to hell that he won't embarrass himself further.

"I'm George. George O'Malley." He smiles at me. I nod as we walk towards our resident.

"That's the Nazi?" Cristina leans to me and says.

"I thought she'd have been.. taller.. and.. bigger." Says George, the three of us staring at the short black Doctor standing at the nurse's station waiting for us. I recognise her as the woman Richard was talking to at the mixer. I try and avoid thinking of the mixer because that will, inevitably, lead me to thinking about Mark and Derek. Derek who I kissed. Derek whose jacket is hanging in my hall cupboard. Derek who is my boss. Derek who I want to kiss again.

Jerking back to the moment I realise we have been joined by another Doctor. Stevens I guess.

"I thought the Nazi would be.. the Nazi." I add.

"Maybe it's professional jealousy. Maybe she's brilliant and she's called the Nazi. Maybe she's nice."

"You must be the model." Says Cristina smirking. I like Cristina. She smirks a lot, she doesn't seem to like these happy chirpy people, i.e. George and Stevens either.

We walk up to Doctor Bailey and Stevens reaches out her hand.

"Hi, I'm Isobel Stevens. But everyone calls me Izzie." She smiles.

Bailey looks at the blonde despairingly.

"I have 5 rules." Says Bailey ignoring her. "Memorize them. Rule number 1. Don't bother sucking up. I already hate you and that's not gonna change." She points to the desk, "Trauma protocol. Phone lists. Pagers. Nurses will page you."

We all grab the stuff, Cristina inevitably the first one, and run after Bailey whose still talking.

"You answer every page at a run. A run! That's number 2. Your first shift starts now and lasts 48 hours. You are interns. Grunts. Nobodies. You run labs," she says ticking of her list on her fingers "write orders, work every second night until you drop and you don't complain."

We pass a doorway and she points to it.

"On-call rooms. Attendings hog them. Sleep when you can, where you can. Which, brings me to rule number 3. If I'm sleeping don't wake me unless your patient is actually dying. As in, really dying. And rule number 4, that patient better not be dead when I get there. Not only will you have killed someone, you'd have woken me, forcing me.. to kill you.. We clear?"

I raise my hand.

"Yes?" she asks, eyebrow raised.

"You said 5 rules, that's only 4."

As I speak Bailey's pager goes off, she glances at it, backing off from us without raising her eyes from it. "Rule number 5. When I move. You move." She takes off running, we all for a second glance at each other before tearing after her.

By hour 4 I've got my first patient Katie Bryce. She came in by helicopter, she was whom we ran after Bailey for. Lucky me gets to take her to CT. The only problem on my horizon.. well.. I have no clue where CT is.

"You're lost." She says. God, why couldn't they've knocked her out first so I didn't have to listen to her.

"I am not lost." I grit my teeth. Maybe saying it will make it come true. I am not lost, I am not lost, I am not lost, damn it… I am lost.

"How are you feeling?" I ask her, just so she'll stop telling me I'm lost.

"How do you think I'm feeling? I'm missing my pageant."

Oh jeez. She's one of those people. The peppy cheerleader happy girlie blurgh type people. God.

"You're missing your pageant?" I repeat her. Oh God, she's answering, she thinks I was really asking a question about it. I wasn't. I just was in shock. I couldn't believe she really was one of those pageant taking part of kind of person. But she is. She so clearly is.

A little while later she's still talking about it.

"I do rhythmic gymnastics."

Wow. And what she's actually proud of this fact? What the hell is rhythmic gymnastics?

"It's like, really cool. Nobody else does it. Anyway, the other week, I tripped over my ribbon."

Mustn't laugh. Am a Doctor. I am a trained professional taught to deal with the public with dignity and decorum.

"So yeah, I tripped and twisted my ankle, and I didn't get stuck with someone as clueless as you." She pauses for a beat. "And she was like.. a nurse."

Oh please, like I am the clueless one in this conversation. God, a ribbon swirling pageant go-er is telling me I'm clueless. That's like Lindsay Lohan telling E! News that she's stopped drinking.

Laughable.