Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's. Or Jamie Cullum's version of "I Only Have Eyes For You", which this fic is named after.
A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait for the epilogue! I hope it doesn't disappoint. Here you go, as I promised—thank you again for an incredible journey. I've loved hearing from every one of you, and I hope to write more sometime!
It had barely been a week after they had fought and made up in Meredith's kitchen, but it didn't seem like a week to April. They had slipped into being a couple so easily that she wondered how she hadn't entertained the thought before. It wasn't as if things had changed drastically between them, for they already knew each other, down to how April needed Jackson to crack a joke to relieve her stress while arranging the surgical board and how Jackson needed to vent about the most recent hoops that Sloan made him jump through as his resident.
And yet, things were different.
Like the look of tenderness in his eyes when he teased her. Like how he took every opportunity to touch her arm or give her shoulder a nudge with his or even, on one occasion, tug a lock of her hair playfully. She blushed at the thought before remembering abruptly that she was standing before the door to her office with a dreamy smile.
Not during work, she reprimanded herself as she looked around hastily to check that no one had witnessed the chief resident looking spaced out.
Going inside her office, she made a beeline for her fridge, knowing with a heavy heart that it had probably been ransacked by the other residents. It was well in the afternoon, after all, and they had probably eaten already. Having barely had time to sit down all morning, she hoped against hope that they had left her something.
Her jaw dropped when she opened the fridge to find it fully stocked with bottles of water, small Tupperware containers full of dried apricots and walnuts, pots of yogurt, and energy bars.
It was as if she'd stocked it herself.
A bright green Post-It note fluttered to the floor by her feet, and she bent to pick it up, still blinking dazedly at what seemed to be a mirage.
There, in Jackson's loopy handwriting, was a simple message.
"They have electrolytes!"
It was what she had screeched at Jackson for stealing food from her fridge, that time months ago when his mother had swept into town with that English doctor.
How had he remembered that?
She realized she was still gripping the fridge door, leaving it wide open, and hastily grabbed a container of apricots before shutting it and straightening from the awkward position with a crack of her back. April ignored the momentary pain, hurrying to her desk and rummaging in her drawer. Munching on a dried apricot, she sank into her chair, taking out her flashcards to study for her boards.
The thought of the imminent examinations didn't stop her from glancing up at the Post-It she had pinned on the bottom of her small notice-board from time to time.
Things were decidedly different.
It was an ordinary morning in the Grey house.
Nothing was out of place. And yet.
Jackson yawned as he entered the kitchen, making his way to the cupboard to pour himself some cereal.
"Morning!" April's cheerful voice rang behind him, and he turned to see her head disappearing momentarily behind the fridge door, coming out with a carton of orange juice.
"Here," she said happily, quickly handing him a full glass. He thanked her automatically and watched her fondly as her expression turned serious for a brief moment, pouring herself a glass neatly.
He turned back to get a spoon for his cereal, and blinked as he realized that two bowls sat innocently on the counter, with April's favorite cereal beside them.
He hadn't even noticed he had done it.
Judging from April's soft "oh", she had noticed.
Jackson felt her hand touch his shoulder gently, and the appreciative look she gave him made him lean forwards instinctively, capturing her bottom lip between his tenderly. He savored the lingering kiss, how she tasted of peppermint and how soft her lips were, before he drew away slowly.
"Good morning," he murmured lowly, a tendril of satisfaction unfurling inside him at the sight of her dilated pupils. He instantly wanted to kiss her again, but common sense took over: the others would be downstairs soon, and he didn't want to start out the day by flustering her. She smiled warmly at him when he held up the cereal box questioningly, their hands brushing lightly as he handed it over to her.
He busied himself with fixing his own breakfast, flicking on the radio to distract himself before he sat down at the table.
"Maybe millions of people go by, but they all disappear from view
I only have eyes for you"
Jackson almost stood to change the channel on the radio to the news but paused, listening to the song. It was overly sentimental—a typical love ballad—but there was just something about it that drew his attention.
"My love must be some kind of blind love
I don't see anybody but you"
He shook his head to himself as the song ended on a mournful note. He looked up and saw April was staring thoughtfully at him, her fingers curved delicately around her spoon.
Their eyes caught for one immeasurable moment.
The sound of Meredith and Cristina's familiar half-bickering, half-teasing voices drifted down the stairs, breaking the tranquility of the moment, as Alex shuffled sleepily into the room, Lexie hot on his heels.
"If you'd stop hogging the shower, we wouldn't be cutting it so fine," she sniped at Alex, slapping his hand away from the coffee pot to pour herself a cup first.
Alex's customary grunt of "whatever" was drowned out by the sound of Meredith's laughter as she walked into the kitchen with Cristina, though it was cut short when Alex turned and almost walked into Cristina.
"Watch where you're going, Evil Spawn!" Cristina snapped, side-stepping neatly.
Alex only rolled his eyes in response.
It was strange how he'd found a family with such a crazy bunch of surgeons, after all his years of trying to deal with his surgery-hungry blood relatives, Jackson mused as he looked around the crowded room with a quirk of his lips. He caught April's eye again, who smiled sweetly back at him, her eyes twinkling as if she knew what he was thinking.
He grinned into his bowl of cereal.
No, he decided, the song was wrong. It hadn't been some kind of blind love that had led him to April. It had crept up on him, slowly but surely stitching itself into place with such precision that he would have been a fool to ignore it in the face of such certainty, the same glorious instinct thrumming in his veins that he got as a surgeon when things were falling into place as they should be. They fit together.
It felt right.