1A/N: No more reviews no more chapters! Also, sorry this chap is kind of short, but I'm working on it. It's kind of hard for me, since this is my very first GA fic, but I promise it will get better (I think)! Also, if you use the Recommended Soundtrack, tell me what you think please!
Recommended Soundtrack: I Feel Love by Blue Man Group & Venus Hum
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Chapter 3
Ignore, Ignore, Ignore
Without you here, there is less to say...
Your life for the past three days has been running.
Run, run, run. You were running five minutes ago to the seventh floor - a set of blood tests and a case file that had to be delivered within two minutes, and when you caught an elevator just before the doors shut on your opportunity to scrub in, you nearly bowed down and thanked the Elevator Gods above.
'Run, run, run, run, run.' Run and get labs done, run to the OR, run home to check on your friend, run and make your rounds, run from him and run from her.
Avoidance is the best policy. It keeps you safe and unhurt, and it lets you forget without intoxicating yourself. It allows you to be by yourself and be surrounded by a crowd of people all at the same time.
For the time being, you can drown yourself in work and consolation - you have bigger issues than your big issues, and you can deal with the smaller ones later. You have someone to take care of, patients to see, MRI's and CT's and x-ray's to look at, labs to pick up, more rounds to make, and two people to avoid. For now, you can ignore it.
But inside, you are screaming. You are screaming for him and needing him in ways that you should have forgotten about long ago. Unfortunately, he has reminded you of the way he loves you and now you can't get it out of your mind.
So you keep it out of sight. Out of sight and out of mind, right? You see him coming down a hallway and duck into an on-call room. You see him walking towards the elevator and you take the stairs. You cautiously avoid neurosurgery cases, afraid of being burned by the one thing that is steady in your life - the scalpel.
But isn't that the irony of the world? Nothing really is certain, is it? Nothing is guaranteed and nothing is set in stone. A death, a gunshot, an affair, or a slip of the hand can get in the way of your plans - of plans you are just starting to make.
Now, you are riding a (thankfully) silent and empty elevator down to the basement to try and catch a few minutes of sleep before the afternoon rush comes in. The warm, uncharacteristically sunny days have been prompting more bike accidents, rollerblading mishaps, car wrecks, and heat stroke cases than have been seen in a long time. You think it's appropriate. Your world is crashing around you, and so is everyone else's.
Suddenly, the elevator doors swing open, waking you from your trance, and you step forward briefly before realizing this isn't your stop - someone's getting on.
Who else would you expect to get on the damn elevator at this point?
You are going to make a run for it and take the stairs down, when you realize you're on the 5th floor (commonly known as Psych Ward), and there isn't stairwell access. So, it's either loose your precious sleep or go on the longest elevator ride ever.
Life freaking sucks.
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You see her in the corner of the small metal box when the doors swing open, emitting a gust of cool air. You don't know if the chill is from the air conditioning or the icy look she is throwing at you.
You step on, and you almost smile when you realize you have her cornered. She's not going to run and she's not going to avoid you this time. You've got her.
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"Hello, Meredith," he says, a hint of his familiar, flirtatious and at the same time cocky, tone seeping into his words and the tiniest of tiny smirks gracing the corner of his mouth.
"Hello, Dr. Shepherd," you spit, your voice laced with venom, yet at the same time taking on the slightest bit of your own teasing tone.
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You hear the smile in her voice, but her face is a dead-set mask of anger. She glares at the floor, hoping to burn a hole in it, because you know that she knows that if she were to look at you, she would smile.
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His extremely tepid flirting is so supremely inappropriate at this point, you think a man streaking in a church would blush. You are angry that you can't be mad at him. You are angry that if you look at him, you will grin. And he will laugh, that soft chuckle that tells you exactly how much he wants you, and then, you'll be a goner. So you glare at the floor, hoping to burn a hole in it, one that will be just big enough for you to fall through and never have to see him again.
But you aren't so lucky and the Elevator Gods hate you, because suddenly, the metal contraption comes to a screeching halt, the lights flicker off, being replaced by the soft glow of the emergency lights, and you are stuck in a freaking elevator with Derek Shepherd.
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