Meredith's face twisted around a gritted-toothed smile. She couldn't take it. The pain that was inflicted on her veins, the unnatural emotion that had allowed itself to roam about in her brain … she couldn't take it. Slowly, she slunk off her jacket. It fell with a thin thump to the ground, but the thump rounded many men's eyes her way. Meredith smirked. It wasn't satisfaction … it wasn't happiness … why was she smiling? Well, it didn't matter. Meredith twisted her arms together and called, "Joe!" Try as she might, the tube top wouldn't go any further down without showing something she didn't want all of them to see – just one.

"One shot of tequila. Please," she nodded in Joe's direction. Seeing the sexy lilac tube top and Meredith's determined expression, he sighed. But he had to give the tequila to her. After she had paid him and drowned the tequila, ordering her second, a man came over. The man's smile was devilishly handsome. His hair was a mahagony as it rested in perfect curls that sprung from his bronze head. The man's head revealed manliness. Meredith rested back. She'd found the one.

"I'll buy you your third," he volunteered, pretending to be innocent. Seeing the seat beside Meredith was filled by a policeman that seemed to be checking Meredith out, he slid a seat from a table close by near to Meredith.

"Thank you," smiled Meredith. She flipped her light brown hair over her petite shoulder and gave another smile. She couldn't feel the smile. It lay flat on her face, and not a twinkle met her eye. She drained the next, and the next one he offered.

"Your name?" asked Meredith.

"Um … I don't think … it doesn't … matter …"

"Oh, c'mon!"

"Gaylord," mumbled the man.

"Gaylord?" screeched Meredith.

"Shh! Shh!"

"Ok … I can't call you that. Or 'Gay.' That's just not—"

"Right? Yeah. Call me Greg, ok? Oh, why the hell did I tell you my real name?" Drowning in self-consciousness, Meredith watched on with an air of amusement.

"Meredith."

- - -

"Somebody had a litte 'visitor' last night," sang Izzie, looking accusingly about the room. "Ok, two people. My god! Couldn't you go to their apartments?"

Meredith smiled, but a hangover traced across it. Her eyes drooping and scathed throat were enough to hand Izzie the message.

"Ok, but Alex?" She looked at him, blinking. "You get over people … real fast." Hurt obviously lay concealed in her eyes as she watched. Alex slowly became concerned in her hurt. Why? Why could she be hurt? His feet tapped against the counter with a steady thump.

"It was Laura," he sighed. "An intern."

"Oh, god! Meredith? Was yours from the hospital? Does Seattle Grace have to sleep with each other?"

"No. Mine was from … hmm. I don't know. I don't know what he did. His name was Gaylord." Izzie snorted. Meredith echoed the snort. "But I called him Greg."

"Sounds special. I could've called it Sex Night in the Resident House!"

- - - -

George's hand slowly traced across Callie's getting-full stomach. A smile enclosed his face to all other emotions he might be feeling – worry … uncertainty … but all of that was blocked off. Instead, he let his eyes twinkle with the happiness.

"We did it," said Callie, nodding. "We got through the Izzie-thing. We got through the … things. We got through things, George, and now we're here." She pressed his body closer to her, as if the warmth was necessary – as if she was afraid of loosing him.

"Now we're going to have a baby." Callie's sigh was the live existence of happiness. "I love you, George." His head fell on her shoulder.

"Callie, I … I love you. We'll – you'll – it's love forever. Because we made it that way. We are married. We … are in love."

"That's such a good feeling," confirmed Callie.

"Three months pregnant," said George. No gloominess met his voice; no hint of his thinking his life would be down the drain once Callie's body opened up and released a living, breathing child that had his own blood into the world.

- - - -

Tears were awash Seattle Grace that morning. Cristina's, peering at the note … Preston Burke had left Seattle Grace. Addison's against Mark's shoulder, crying out her pleas to God she would live. For the love of her life's sake, she pleaded. Meredith's, of regret. Always … that's how she would cope. Have sex with inappropriate men, tell them to leave, and then get in a shower. Maybe a few sandwiches along the way. Izzie's tears. Her hands grasped tightly around a picture of her and Denny at the hospital – taken by George.

Maybe life wasn't ok now. Maybe life would never be ok. But maybe it would be.

Not for now.

- - -

AN: I'm sorry that this chapter's SO short. It's crazy short, I know. But I felt like I had to end it there, and the next chapter will be long. I know I said 5 reviews, but I was afraid people would forget about my story before we go there. It does hurt my feelings and I'm still struggling from writer's block and I'm upset about the whole nobody likes my FanFiction anymore … but ok. I'll update. Please review? Why did you all stop reviewing?