After The Storm – Chapter VII
"How did we end up looking after a baby?"
"We're out of tequila."
Cristina leaned lazily over the table and gazed down the table to see a baby wrapped up as it lay on a plush blanket on the tabletop. "I mean seriously," Cristina rubbed her face sloppily then looked back at the baby, perplexed. "What series of events leave three drinking women in their kitchen with a baby?"
"We're out of tequila." Meredith said again as she held the empty bottle over her half empty shot glass.
"What?" Cristina looked around to Meredith. "How did that happen?"
"Well with the amount that you've been drinking, it's not surprising that it's happened." Izzie muttered dryly as she sat back in her chair at the table.
"Hey there McModel, you were drinking too." Cristina lifted herself off the table to look at Izzie better. "Come to think of it, why are you down here with us relationshipy-retarded people?"
"I needed to think." Izzie looked down at the table.
"You're a thinking-drunk?" Cristina leant her chin on her fist as she stared at Izzie.
"No, I just need to think about stuff." Izzie ran her palm over her hair.
"Since when does tequila help you think?"
"Talking about tequila, we're out." Meredith reiterated as she continued to hold the empty bottle over her shot glass, the last drop hanging onto the rim.
"But you're Meredith, you're a wasp. Don't you have a secret stash of liquor hidden in the walls or something?" Cristina looked back at Meredith.
Meredith finally put down the empty bottle. "There's only my ex-boyfriend Derek's bottle of scotch and no ones drinking that poison water."
"Someone's angry." Izzie raised her eyebrows.
"Someone's under the influence." Meredith smiled wryly as she took the half shot of tequila.
Cristina sat up in her chair. "Well, we can't have a depressed night with only three quarters of a bottle of tequila, we have to get more!"
"We can't leave the baby here alone." Meredith pointed lazily down the table where the baby was sleeping soundly.
"How the hell did we end up with a sleeping baby?" Cristina looked confused at the baby once more.
"Ah…" Meredith began to think hard.
"Ava came back with Alex, remember?" Izzie looked at Meredith and Cristina as they both tried to rattle their memory. "They went up to his room and asked if we could look after the baby for a few hours? No wonder you guys didn't remember, you were both too busy ranting about the glories of being single while trying to cut up lemons."
"I need a lime." Meredith stared at the scrap of lemon skin lying on the table.
"We need tequila." Cristina quickly corrected.
"I hate love." Meredith grumbled.
Izzie nodded slowly as she continued to stare at the table in deep thought. After a while of silence Izzie looked up at the other two as they leant forward on the table top, Cristina staring at the empty bottle and Meredith staring into thin air.
"I need…" Izzie stumbled as the two looked up at her. "I need to ask you something, and don't…you have to tell me the truth, ok?"
"Ok." Cristina looked up as she began to become curious.
"Did you err…Did you both pass your exams? I mean, did one of you fail?"
"Nope." Meredith answered simply.
"No chance in hell." Cristina smiled. "Why, did you?" She looked at Izzie suspiciously.
"No, no, I passed, I definitely passed," Izzie quickly defended herself. "It's just something…. forget about it." Izzie forced a smile.
"Right…" Cristina raised her eyebrow. "And you say tequila doesn't screw with your thinking."
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Izzie and Meredith instantly looked up and turned to the direction of the door then looked at each other curiously.
"Well I'm not going." Cristina mumbled as she put her head in her hands.
Meredith pushed herself away from the table and got up off the chair, stumbling a bit to get her feet then straightening up and headed out of the kitchen to the hallway. Walking up to the covered door she grabbed onto the handle and opened the door.
"Ah!" Meredith blurted out in absence of anything better to say.
"Is it McDreamy?" Cristina's voice came out from the kitchen.
"No it's McSteamy." Meredith shouted back. She looked back at Mark as he stood coolly in the doorway, hands in his leather jacket as he peered into the house. Meredith just glared at him lightly as she held on to the door to stop him from coming in. "So what are you doing here?"
"I need to talk to you." Mark tried to look serious.
Meredith just raised her eyebrow. "No matter what you do or say, I am not sleeping with you."
"Someone's slightly inebriated." Mark smiled slyly as he stepped into the hallway and shuffled past Meredith as she dropped her arm and let him pass.
"I had a rough day." Meredith grumbled as she closed the door.
"Well, I know you're not the only one." Mark winked at Meredith as he walked down the hallway and peered into the kitchen. "Well if it isn't Ike, Mike and…. baby." Mark walked into the kitchen and raised his eyebrows as he saw the baby sleeping on the table. "It's not one of yours, is it?" Mark looked over Cristina and Izzie as they continued to sit at the table.
"It's Ava's. The Jane Doe's." Cristina looked up at Mark hopefully. "You didn't bring liquor, did you? We need liquor."
"We're at Meredith's house." Mark made himself at home and sat down in Meredith's chair. "How could you not have liquor? And, come to think of it, why do you have the Jane Doe's baby? Is she living here now?"
"Well, you know, she probably is. We're more like a youth hostel now." Meredith mumbled as she walked into the kitchen after Mark.
"Dr Sloan." Izzie suddenly sat up in her chair.
"You're half-full of tequila, call me Mark." Mark smiled.
"Whatever." Izzie said quickly, "Did you happen, happen at all, to see George today at the hospital?"
"O'Malley?" Mark leant back in his chair. "Nup, can't say I did."
Izzie remained quiet for a second then quickly jumped up from her chair and grabbed her jacket from the kitchen counter. "I gotta," She fumbled as he put on her jacket quickly, "I gotta go."
Meredith and Cristina watched in surprise as Izzie ran out of the kitchen then heard the front door open quickly then slam close.
"Ok then." Mark moved forward in his chair then looked at Meredith. "We need to talk."
"I take this as my cue to exit." Cristina smiled wryly as she stood up slowly from the chair.
"Can you take the baby?" Meredith looked up at Cristina.
"No chance. I did the baby thing for one day, never again." Cristina shuddered. "I'm just going to pass out on the sofa or something…" Cristina mumbled mindlessly as she walked out of the kitchen. Suddenly she stopped and turned around. "Don't sleep with him. Otherwise both of you won't know your asses from your earlobes when you wake up!"
Mark just looked confused as Cristina wandered into the hallway and over to the lounge room.
"She had a bit too much to drink." Meredith explained. Mark nodded in understanding. "So what did you need to talk to me about?" Meredith leant back in her chair.
"Derek." Mark crossed his arms.
"Well that's a surprise." Meredith rolled her eyes.
"More specifically: You and Derek. Why did you break up with him?"
Meredith sat up in her chair. "I, am damaged."
"When did you figure that out?" Mark asked sarcastically.
"Shut up." Meredith glared at Mark. "I'm being serious, I'm damaged goods, I'm a damaged person, I'm just… just… damaged!"
"Nice to see the tequila hasn't affected your vocabulary."
"Shut up. I'm damaged, I can't do the happily ever after thing, the opening up and sharing, the living together in sickness and in health till you're old and wrinkly, I can't do that crap. So why the hell even bother?"
"What do you mean, why bother?"
"Oh come on Mark, you understand, you're part of the Dirty Mistresses club! I'm damaged goods, it just doesn't work for us."
"Oh, get off your high horse." Mark rolled his eyes.
"Huh?" Meredith looked confused.
"You're damaged, so what? Stop using it as an excuse for your emotional shortcomings."
"Well, in actual fact, it is the reason for my emot…"
"So what? Derek, he still loves you and you, I'm pretty sure you still love him and though right now it is ridiculously easy for me to seduce you, I'm not going to. Because even with all his stupid jerkness, Derek is still my best friend and I don't want to see him hit himself over the head with a baseball bat when he realises what he's getting himself into with your step-sister."
"My step-sister? Lexie? You mean – "
"He's trying to get over you. He's depressed. And right now he's just doing what Derek does best, he's trying to dig himself out of the hole. But you know, as I know that it only gets deeper. Just stop all this crap ok?"
"I can't." Meredith muttered sadly.
"Fine." Mark sighed as he looked back at Meredith. "I just came here to make a point." He stood up from his chair and looked back down to Meredith. "I just want you to know that this is getting annoying to me, that you two have no real reason for not actually spending the rest of your lives together. No reason whatsoever. So why do you try so hard to make one?"
Meredith looked away from Mark as he stuffed his hands in his jacket and walked out of the kitchen. Meredith listened as his firm footsteps echoed down the hallway then listened as the door opened then shut again softly. Meredith looked down at the sleeping baby then leaned forward onto the table, staring into space.
Mark couldn't be right. It was Mark. Mark doesn't know anything. He couldn't be right.
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George checked his watch as he felt the elevator shift upwards. It was late. Callie was on call that night so he went down to the pub across the road for a bit but now had
Chinese to take back to the hotel room. He missed the old house, Meredith's place. He missed Izzie's incessant baking and Meredith's basic levels of cooking. The hum there was in the morning, the relieved madness at the end of the day.
But if he had the choice to be anywhere right now, he'd be at the hotel alone. The memories of the old house stung the back of his mind, a lump slightly forming in his throat. Those memories hurt, because everything that had happened, all the toil, the strife, the mistakes, all of it had been for nothing. He had gotten nowhere, only worse as he now had to deal with Callie and Izzie. But he was married, there should be no Callie and Izzie. But there was. And he failed his exams. So he needed to be alone.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Trudging out of the elevator, George stuffed his free hand into his pocket for his room key as he stared uninterested at the floor. Suddenly a pair of shoes came into view and he came closer to his hotel room. A pair of shoes he recognised.
"Izzie…" George looked up sadly as Izzie stood by his door, arms crossed as she waited for George.
"George," Izzie said softly as she came closer to him. "What – "
"Don't. You shouldn't be here." George stepped back from Izzie and avoided her gaze.
"George," Izzie sighed. "You failed your exam."
"So?" George continued to avoid Izzie's gaze, his hand becoming warmer from the steam of his take out.
"What do you mean 'so'?" Izzie stood perplexed. "This is a seriously huge thing, why the hell didn't you tell anyone?"
"It doesn't matter." George muttered.
"Wha-?" Izzie stopped short. "Of course it matters! What's gotten into you?"
"Nothing." George looked up at Izzie.
"Have you talked to the chief?"
"Yes. And I quit." George stood straight.
"You quit?" Izzie looked at George in disbelief then sharpened her gaze. "What did Callie say?"
"What do you mean?" George looked at her suspiciously.
"What did Callie say when she found out?" Izzie spat. "Cause I'm sure this plays right into her hands – "
"No, she'd never be like that." George said strongly.
"Oh yeah?" Izzie moved up to George. "Callie told me about her little plan, she's relieved you failed, she's relieved you quit but I'm not. I'm not! You know why? Because I'm your best friend, and I love you. Just the way you are, and I know that you want to be a surgeon and I would never let you give it all up to make someone else's vision of you come true. I'm not going to let you give up now, not after everything that has happened, everything you've put in, everything you've done. You better study up on your notes, because you're coming back!"
Izzie quickly grabbed George by the face and kissed him briskly then turned around and walked down the hall, opening the fire doors as she walked down the stairs, away from George.
George stood in shock for a second and looked down the hall as the fire exit door slowly closed. Looking down at the card in his hand George numbly swiped the door open and walked in.
This had just got even worse.
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NB: Ahahaha! Hello there guys! If there's any left of you, that is. Sorry about the delay, hopefully this is long enough a kick-start back into the story. Actually, I'm quite surprised how long the first bit was, I was only planing to get Izzie out and let Mark talk but I think it kind of grew into… whatever it is. I guess this chapter was about people trying to smack some sense into each other, though I'm not really sure it works. And Mark, gotta love Mark. Mark I think is the classic Fool. You know your Shakespeare, the Fool is the only one that speaks the truth, but no one takes him seriously because he is the fool, and that is the only way he can get away with speaking the truth. But maybe I'm putting way too much thought into his character.
Anywho, I'm back, and ready to continue writing so I'm just hoping you're all still there and that no one's written 50 more post season 3 finale fics way better than mine, though I think that's more than likely. So, to let me know that a few of you are still reading: REVIEW!!! Thanks guys, am happy to receive any feedback, even if you hate my guts and find my Author's notes and pleads for reviews extremely annoying.
