A/N: That's all, folks! This is set a while after the whole story (such as in movies or TV where they flash forward to several weeks later or whatnot) and is in fact an Erica POV. The second bit is not however, beig the closing end of the monolouge (continuing the Grey's homage). Well, enjoy it!

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Erica walked through the hospital doors with little trepidation. She welcomed the sterile scents, the faint beeping of the machines that measured patients' vitals and the hustle and bustle of the doctors racing about to their various tasks. She belonged here.

Dr. Webber, Chief of Surgery, rushed over to greet her. He sputtered his gratitude at her reconsidering her transfer and she let him. Not for her, she didn't need to hear it, but for him. Nowadays, the once rascal of a surgeon seemed to thrive by sucking up to pros. It was sad but Erica didn't have time to dwell on it.

As he finished, she walked on, passing the clear glass rooms of the patients and the random, misplaced beds of those who had recently been discharged. She passed the E.R., with its screams and cries of pain seeping through the doors. She saw the clinic with its ragtag cluster of walk-ins. She walked by Trauma with the formidable if slightly unorthodox Dr. Hunt. She saw various faces she knew running or walking by. Dr. Yang gaped at her as she walked on, an expression like Christmas come early on her face. Erica continued through the hospital, remembering things, seeing things, watching for the only person she had eyes for.

Then she saw her: Callie Torres, leaning against the surgical board and talking to Miranda Bailey. Erica paused, just watching her for the time being. She felt a smile grow on her face involuntarily as she looked at the woman she'd been stupid enough to almost let go.

Callie turned at that moment and spotted her, a huge grin blossoming on her face.

Yeah, things were going to be alright. They would get over their difficulties. They would the way they always had before.

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We take for granted the importance of relationships on the human body. We don't bother to think about the effect love can have on us. Your heart can race, your breath can catch, your pulse can speed up, and you begin to excrete hormones with increasing speed. Your mind goes fuzzy, unable to think rationally. Your self-preservation instincts get jarred, forcing yourself to put someone else's life before your own willingly. You near the edge of a cliff and you have to make a decision: jump into the fray, the unknown or turn around and walk away.

There is no insurance policy on love, no safety net to catch us when we do fall. But that is not important; what is important is that we fall, that we jump, that we love.

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A/N 2: Short, sweet, to the point. That works for me, how about you? Please do review. It's not just some vain plea, I have no way of knowing how my writing is holding up without you lovely people to tell me my faults.

I will update the sequel eventually but until then, Bien dit!