Chapter Three

Cristina lingered outside of the OR, a soda in her hand, waiting for Burke to finish with a biopsy. It was normally a surgery covered by George, or another resident, but Burke sometimes liked to do the simpler surgeries. To prove that he still could, or something else stupid like that. She watched as he smiled to himself in the scrub room and removed his scrub-cap. It seemed like such a long time ago that she had stolen the scrub-cap that still resided in her locker. Now, she found to her own dismay, she was developing her own OR superstitions, involving the directions in which she cut and how she put on her gloves. It was contagious. Kind of like the smile he was giving her.

He came out into the hall and put an arm around her waist. "Shouldn't you be in the pit?"

She shrugged. "Not much happening. Of course, now that I've said that we'll have a three car pile-up come whirring in."

"Not that that would disappoint you any," he teased and she laughed.

"You're right. It wouldn't, normally." He looked at her, puzzled, and she took a breath. "Tonight, though, it would. You're off at seven, right?"

"Yes," he said. "Cristina, is something wrong?" His immediate leap to concern made her pull away a little, so that she stood in front of him instead of next to him.

"No," she said, forcing a smile. "Nothing's wrong. I just want us to go out tonight, okay?"

He nodded slowly. "Okay. What's the occasion?"

"There's no occasion!" she insisted, and became aware that she was being far too forceful. She willed herself to relax. "Nothing's wrong, I promise. I just want to talk, that's all. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed. "You're being strange today, Cristina."

"I know," she said, bluntly and he laughed. She bristled, but after a moment she started to laugh too. She was overdoing it, she knew, she just wasn't very good at this. He understood that though. They had been together for too long for him not to understand.

After a few more moments standing there her pager went off.

"Three car pile-up?" he teased and she shook her head.

"No. The guy I just did damage control on is bleeding out. Gotta go."

Before she could disappear into the elevator, he grabbed her arm and kissed her cheek. She smiled in spite of herself as she dove through the metal doors.

"Aunt Cristina!" Only one person called her that, Cristina whirled around to see Lydia, in Meredith's arms right behind her.

"Hey you guys," she said, leaning against the elevator wall. "What are you doing here?"

Lydia buried her face in Meredith's neck and muttered, "Had to go see Grace today."

Meredith shifted her weight and got a firmer grip on Lydia's crutches as Cristina watched and marveled at how natural they looked together.

"How did that go?" Cristina asked, as five people boarded on the third floor.

"Okay," Lydia murmured, and Meredith shrugged.

'She did well, we're getting there." She always tended to use that phrase, and Cristina was never sure where there was, exactly. Maybe walking without the crutches, she had heard that mentioned as a long-term goal.

"Good."

"So…. Have you told him yet?" Meredith asked, as they exited the elevator.

"Um…. No. We're going out to dinner tonight and talking."

Meredith raised an eyebrow. "You're talking?"

"I'm talking. What's up with you, are you and Shepard talking?"

"Child," Meredith said, warningly, placing Lydia on the ground. "Walking to daycare, hun," she said, as Lydia scowled. "And yes, we're talking. We're fine. Why wouldn't we be fine, have you--?" Cristina was almost certain that her next words would have been 'heard anything', but Lydia stumbled, and Meredith knelt quickly to right her and convince the child that tears were in no way necessary.

"No, nothing. Um, I've got a patient bleeding out. Got to go," Cristina said, running off towards the OR, but she wasn't convinced. Something was going on with the Shepard-Greys. That was funny to think. Usually she just thought Meredith, or Derek. Even now it was hard to think of them as a family unit. It would figure that she gained the ability to do that when things weren't right. Weird.

"Where have you been?' Bailey demanded and Cristina ignored her, going in to tend to her patient. His bleeding would require another operation, which she informed the family in a rush as she prepped him. She hated the times when she actually had to deal wit the family, because in her position the times she had to speak to the families were when she had already operated once and was having to do it again.

She quickly scrubbed in, next to Izzie who was removing a cyst on a young woman's ovary, and went in for damage control. She was good at damage control. She put things back together once they went wrong. In life and in surgery.

She made the first cut, instructing an intern who was hovering over her to watch. "Dr. Anders," she said icily, "If you don't want this scalpel to be slashed across your throat, you will get out of my space."

The intern jumped back at her tone of voice, and she smirked, as did several of the scrub-nurses. Those that had known her as an intern were not as afraid of her as the others. She would have to work on that.

The damage that she had missed the first time was not too easy to fix, but it was simple enough that she was kicking herself for having missed it in the first place. It was not like her. She was obviously preoccupied, and she hated that. Preoccupation did not work when you were a surgeon. As she sewed him up she glanced up at a clock on the wall, 4:30. She was off at six, and in that time she had to get home and change, because she had not made up her mind to do this today when she left the house and hadn't brought a dress.

Preoccupation at its finest.

She didn't have to scrub in again, so she spent the rest of the day checking on post-ops and forcing interns to discharge and suture. It was fun to watch them grovel. She really should work on this schdenfreude problem.

At six she was on her bike and on her way to the apartment. She stood in front of the mirror for fifteen minutes in blue dresses, red dresses and black dresses until she finally whipped out her cell phone to call Meredith.

"Red, blue or black?"

"Green," Meredith said, distractedly. "The one you wore to Lyddie's christening."

"Are you sure?"

"Very."

"What are you doing?" Cristina asked, Meredith sounded very preoccupied, and she wasn't on-call, Cristina had called the home number.

"I," Meredith said dryly, "am attempting to cook, because Derek is taking on extra shifts because of his… business trip next week."

"You're cooking?"

"Grilled cheese. I've done it before, I never killed anyone, but I hate cooking."

"Yeah, I know, let me talk to the kid." Cristina plopped on her bed, holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear to put on her hose.

"Cristina!"

"Kid, phone, now."

Meredith sighed audibly, there was a shuffling noise and then Lydia was on the phone. "Hello?"

"Lydia, what's the number for the fireman, sweetie?"

"9-1-1."

"And poison control?"

"1-800-222-1222."

"And what are the only ingredients in grilled cheese?"

"Bread, and cheese, and butter."

"Good girl. Watch your mom carefully, 'kay?"

"Okay, Aunt Cristina. Um, I think Mommy wants to talk to you! Here you go, Mommy."

"What was that? At least let my child have faith in me."

"Uh-huh. Gotta go, talk to you later." Cristina closed her phone and sighed, as she finished putting on her hose. She put on the dress that Meredith had suggested and realized that her friend was right: the green did suit her and the occasion.

She then started the daily struggle with her hair. She really, for once, didn't want to leave it down, and so she managed to win a fight with a very willful barrette and gel to make it stay clasped behind her head and not look messy as it so often did at work. Once she was done with make-up and the barest amount of jewelry it was 7:05 and Burke would be home any minute.

She had decided to leave him a note with the name of the restaurant, rather than have him come home to find her dressed and leave together, but this meant that she had to take a cab. Riding a motorcycle in a dress did not work, she'd tried. So, she hailed a cab and was in it, just at the time that Burke would normally be pulling into his parking-spot in the apartment's garage.

Having decided to let him order the wine, and the meal, she sat at the small table for two sipping her water and waiting none-too-patiently for him to arrive. Her wedding band sparkled in the light from the candle at the end of the table and she smiled a little. When he had proposed she had surprised both of them by answering without thinking. After four years, it was just right.

"Cristina, you look gorgeous," he said, as he sat in the chair across from her, and she shrugged.

"Thanks. You look nice too."

The waiter was there quickly, and Burke was surprised to find that she had not ordered anything. He raised an eyebrow as he ordered white wine and fish, but she did not acknowledge this. Instead she asked him about a surgery he had preformed two days before, and he told her about it. It was their normal conversation.

It was not until their food had been served that Cristina put down her fork and looked seriously at her husband. "So, I guess you're wondering why we're eating here, and everything."

"It did cross my mind," he admitted with a smile, "But I figured you had a reason for being so secretive."

"You're right, I did I do," Cristina said instantly, and then told herself to pull back. She had to do this calmly. "I've been thinking a lot lately. Like, more than usual, because of what you said last week, about…. About the possibility of us having kids." That being out, she took a breath. "And, I think—I think that I'm ready."

For a minute it seemed as if he did not know how to react, like he was thinking 'no sudden movements', but then his face broke out in a grin, and the took her hand. "Seriously?" he said, and she sighed.

"No, not seriously; would I be wearing this dress if I weren't serious? Like I said, I've been thinking about it a lot, and I think that I'm willing."

"You're willing? But do you want it? Do you want us to have kids?" his probing was gentle, and she nodded as the waiter came to take their dessert order.

"Yeah I do. I want kids."

"Okay. Let's get dessert then, to celebrate."

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"So I was thinking…. We should visit my mother before you leave. Because I'll be really busy this week and I won't be able to take Lyddie and—."

"And you prefer to have me there when you go, Mer, it's okay, I know." Derek smiled over at her from the bed where he was sitting cross-legged, his checkbook on a lap-desk in his lap.

Meredith sighed and sat back on her heels by the dresser where she was putting up laundry. "I know that you know. I don't know why it felt so awkward to ask, because you'll be back in a week, and that's all…. It just was."

Derek put the lap-desk to the side and slid off the bed. He went over to her and sat down. "Meredith, what's going on with us?"

"I don't know," Meredith said, miserably, tossing a shirt into the drawer. "I want it to be nothing. I want whatever it is to not matter to me, but it doesn't seem to be working that way."

Derek sighed, and reached out an arm, pulling Meredith to him. She relaxed and buried her face in his shirt. "I have an idea," he said, running his fingers through her hair.

"After all of this is over, we'll go somewhere, just the two of us. No work, no Lydia, no worries."

Meredith smiled. They hadn't had a real honeymoon, because when they got married Lydia had been so young and so delicate. Now she was more willing to trust people with her, and it was a possibility.

"Okay," she murmured, "I think we do need some time alone. I mean now there's always something." She sat up. "Like now. Now I have to go and pick Lydia up from Dad's."

"Do you want me to go with you and then we can go to see your mom, and maybe get dinner somewhere?"

"That sounds great," Meredith said, smiling and pulling him up. Maybe things weren't so different.

They pulled up to her father's house and Derek waited in the car while Meredith went to ring the doorbell. Her father's house seemed more familiar now, and their conversations weren't as awkward, but there was still something lingering under the surface that couldn't allow her to have a normal relationship with her father. She and Derek rarely spent time there, which admittedly could have had a hand in it, but there was never a good time.

There had been one Thanksgiving when Lydia was two when they had accepted the invitation to dine with her father, but it had been the most uncomfortable Thanksgiving Meredith had ever spent, including the one in which she dined with only the housekeeper for company. There had been too much sharing of family memories which stopped with one glance at Meredith, and too many times when she had thought longingly of the Thanksgiving gathering at the townhouse.

Now, Lydia went to her grandfather's every Sunday and Meredith and Derek joined them for Easter and the occasional meal. It was simpler. She and her father had never had the talk, the one that brought up half-healed wounds and caused scars to bleed. They had started it the day he had come to the townhouse while she was pregnant but they never finished it. She wasn't sure that they ever would.

Lydia was waiting by the door, knowing just enough about clocks to be able to read four o'clock, the time at which her parents always came to get her. Or one of her many adopted aunts and uncles, if her parents were working.

"Mommy!" she cried, throwing herself at Meredith.

"Omph, hey there!" Meredith said, gathering the girl in her arms. "Where are your accessories?"

"In the living room. I took 'em off after church," Lydia said, waving a hand at her crutches, sneakers and braces which lay in a heap by the television. Meredith's father came down the hall and smiled.

"She was a very good girl today, weren't you Lydia?"

"Yes I was!" Lydia said proudly, as Meredith sat her down to put on her leg braces. "I was quiet in church, and I went to Sunday school, and I didn't hit Bobby Wilder or nothing!"

"Anything," Meredith corrected with a smirk. "And I'm very glad that you didn't hit Bobby Wilder. Go say goodbye to Grandma Susan, Daddy's waiting in the car."

"Okay!" Lydia said, heading off towards the kitchen.

Meredith stood, gathering Lydia's sweater and backpack up. She faced her father and smiled slightly. "Thank you for watching her."

"Not a problem at all. We love having her. Listen, Meredith, we're having a little get-together next Sunday, Molly's going to be in town, and the rest of Lydia's cousins will be here. We'd like you and Derek to come along with her."

"Oh. Um. Derek's going to be out of town, and I don't know if I'm off. I'll let you know," Meredith said, as Lydia came back into the room.

"Okay, Mommy, I'm ready. What are we doing tonight?"

"We're going to go see Grandma Ellis," Meredith said quietly, "And then we're going to get some dinner, okay? Go outside and Daddy will get you in the car."

Lydia gave her grandfather one more hug and then went outside, taking the steps carefully and then moving as fast as she could to Derek's car.

"How is she?" Meredith's father asked quietly.

Meredith shook her head. "Not well. Not anymore. She's never lucid, and they're always worried about infection, pneumonia. Still, she's strong. She hasn't even caught anything yet. Not in a long time, anyway."

"I'm sure it's not easy on you, Meredith."

"No. It's not. Um…. I have to go. I'll let you know about next weekend." Meredith made her way to the door, but her father caught her arm and kissed her cheek.

"I'll see you soon, Meri."

Somehow, in spite of everything, this made Meredith smile.

"Bye, Dad."

Back in the car she was silent, but Derek sensed her feelings and put his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. She turned to him and he gave her a reassuring smile. In the back Lydia began to tell them about the game of Uno she had played with Susan, one that kept going on "forever 'n' ever".

"Grandma Susan is reading me The Little House on the Prairie. I like it lots, and Laura's a lot like Lizzy. I mean they both don't like to just sit still. I don't like to just sit still neither."

"Either," Meredith corrected. "I don't like to sit still either, Lyddie. I don't know anyone that does, really."

"What about Nurse Debby?" Lydia asked. "She just sits at the nurses' station while everyone else works!"

Derek covered a laugh with a cough and Meredith smiled. "That's not really true, sweetheart. She checks on patients, and changes bandages, and lots of other things. She helps the doctors a lot."

Lydia seemed to think about this for a minute, and then nodded. "Okay." She sat back in her carseat and stared out the window. Meredith turned back to the windshield and smiled.

The drive to Roseridge seemed to take no time at all, even though it was a good ten minute drive. Meredith got out of the car and opened the side door to help Lydia out. She had already unbuckled, a trick she had acquired just after her fifth birthday, and she scrambled out. Derek took Meredith's hand and they went in. The sky was a bright blue, and Meredith wished that her mother was just a little bit better, so that she could walk outside with her. She always seemed to brighten when they did that.

They signed in with the nurse at the desk and went back, past the residents who were sipping tea in the common room and those playing chess and checkers, to the rooms. Most of the doors were shut, but some were open. Many of the elderly there were talking animatedly with visitors or other residents, but some simply lay in their beds, looking at nothing. Meredith noticed Derek staring pointedly ahead as they passed one open door, and she couldn't bring herself to look either.

Her mother's door was closed, and out of habit Meredith knocked gently before opening it. Her mother didn't turn towards the noise of them entering, nor did she seem to notice as Lydia noisily bounded into the room.

"Hi Grandma Ellis! It's Lydia and Mommy and Daddy! We came to visit you, 'cause it's Sunday and that's Grandparents' day, I guess!"

Meredith smiled sadly at Lydia's jubilance. Derek went to a chair on the opposite side of the room, near where Lydia had positioned herself, but Meredith went up to her mother's bed, smoothing her hair back. Her mother's hair had lost some of the reddish-blonde hue, and was now a flat color, not white, but without any real color. Ancolorful. That wasn't a word, but it fit.

"Hi Mom," she said, quietly. "The nurse says you've had a good week. I'm glad. I guess Richard came to see you yesterday, since he was off. I have my fellowship observation this week, for Sacramento. I don't think I'm really a California girl, though. Still, if New York accepted me, Sacramento better, huh?"

She sighed, wondering if there was any point to talking to her mother, but she always hoped that there was a part of her that heard, even if it wasn't the part that they could see.

"Boston did too, but I told you that. Oh! Speaking of Boston; guess who called me last week, out of the blue? William Dawson! He's got his own law firm in Pittsburgh, and he and his partner are adopting their second child. You were always right about his…er…." She glanced at Lydia and decided not to say 'sexual orientation'. "Preferences."

Derek laughed, a strange sound in the quiet room, and Meredith smiled over at him. Lydia crawled up on the foot of the bed. "Grandma Ellis, guess what? Mommy's teaching me how to swim. She said that she used to swim when you lived in Boston, and sometimes you would go too. Grandpa said he'd take me too, and I wish you could take me. It would be fun."

Suddenly Meredith needed something to do with her hands. She glanced around the room and saw the nearly-wilted flowers she had brought the week before in a vase on the dresser. She went over to them and took them into the small bathroom to put new water in the vase. They perked up almost immediately.

She stayed rooted to the linoleum for a moment, unable to go back into the room where her mother lay so lost, and her daughter talked so naturally to the grandmother that she would never really know. After a few minutes, though, Meredith collected herself and brought the bright purple flowers back into the room.

Derek held an arm out to her, and she went over to perch on his knee, feeling his strong arms around her as they kept her mother company.

A little while later, a nurse poked her head into the room. "Dr. Grey, Dr. Shepard? I'm sorry, but visiting hours are nearly over."

"Okay," Meredith said softly, standing up. The nurse left. "Time to go Lyddie," Meredith said. Lydia nodded and crawled up on the bed to kiss Meredith's mother's pale cheek. Derek lifted her off the bed, and they turned to go. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Mom," Meredith said, and then went to follow her husband and daughter.

As she reached the door, there was a small noise from the bed. Meredith turned and stared as her mother's lips obviously formed her name. 'Meredith'. She had not really spoken in months, her voice unable to make intelligible sounds, but this time it was obvious what she meant.

Meredith hurried over to her, and took her mother's outstretched hand. "I'm here, Mom. It's okay." She stroked her mother's hand with a finger. "You're all right, Mom. I have to go now, okay? But I'll come back to see you. I promise."

Gently she leaned over and kissed her mother's forehead. As she drew back something stuck between the bedside table and the bed caught her eye. Meredith knelt down to fish out the small photo album that had gotten wedged in there. She took it with her to the door and called good-bye to her mother once more.

She expected Derek to be waiting just outside the door, but he was not. She walked slowly down the hall, and saw the hem of Lydia's Sunday dress just inside a door. She slowly went to lean on the doorjamb, watching Derek speak to the nearly-lifeless man in the bed.

Mark's eyes were open, the mark of a sleep-wake cycle developed by PVS patients, but they did not focus.

"She's strong," Derek was saying, "But I know she'd want you here. I'll take care of her for you, man, but it's not me she wants." He sighed and put a hand on Mark's shoulder, and then drew it back quickly, turns and walked out the door. Meredith and Lydia followed.

They ate dinner at McDonald's, much to Lydia's delight, because neither of her parents really wanted to deal with all that goes with having a sit-down meal at a nicer restaurant. At home Lydia begged to watch The Little Mermaid, and Meredith obliged. They sit together on the couch, Meredith not really watching the dancing fish, and Lydia completely engrossed. Derek could be heard in his study, typing away at a paper he has been commissioned to write for a medical journal.

She bathed Lydia and put her to bed, the photo album and her mother forcibly pushed to the back of her mind. She kissed Lydia good-night and gently covered her with the blanket that she and Izzie had knitted when Lydia was a baby. Then she went downstairs and took the album from her purse, went into the room that served them as a library (filled with everything from medical texts to picture books, sat on the floor and opened it.

As she stared at the pictures of herself and her parents so long ago she began to cry. The tears that had welled up in her eyes when her mother tried to say her name fell, and she couldn't catch her breath.

"Meredith? Meredith, what's wrong?" Derek said, sinking to his knees beside her. She shook her head and fell against him, unable to explain, figuring that he knew. He murmured softly, rocking her back and forth as he did Lydia. "It's okay, Mer, you're okay."

She didn't believe him, because she was so, so grateful that this had happened while he was still home, and not the next week. Any later and she would be curled up here, crying alone. The thought made her sob more, and Derek did not know why.

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"So then, he goes bug-eyed and asks me how often the one who catches the bouquet is really the next one to get married," Izzie crows, telling Meredith about the wedding of one of Alex's cousins that they attended that weekend.

"What'd you tell him?" Meredith asked slyly, taking a sip of her coffee and walking back through the doors of Seattle Grace. They had been eating their lunch outside in the courtyard.

Izzie shrugged and chucked her empty salad plate in a trashcan. "Nothing, really. I mean, I didn't want to give him false ideas or whatever."

"Do you want to marry him?" Meredith asked. "I mean, you've been dating for a while and it seems to be going well. It is, isn't it?"

Izzie nodded slowly. "Yeah, lately it has been. I just…. I don't know. I always thought that I would be married by now, and I almost was…." She trailed off, still unwilling to mention Denny. His name had become almost taboo among them. "But now I'm just not sure. Things can go wrong."

"Yeah," Meredith said quietly. "But things can go right too."

Izzie smiled at her. "Yeah. But we can't all find our McDreamy and ride off into the sunset with Lydia driving the horse."

Meredith laughed. "Don't mention that to her, or she'll start asking me for horseback riding lessons. And yes, I know, it's supposed to be good for gross motor, but I think the swimming will help just as much. You can't fall off and break you're neck when you're swimming. I mean, she's not diving. Okay, back to you."

"Well anyway. I just don't know, you know?"

"I don't suppose you have to worry about it yet," Meredith agreed. "Just worry about it when he proposes."

Izzie stopped in her tracks, and Meredith turned.

"Do you think he will?" Izzie asked, her eyes widening in shock.

To Izzie's surprise, Meredith burst out laughing and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards the elevator. "Iz, whatever happens will happen and that's that. Now don't you have a kid to birth or something?"

Izzie sighed. "So speaking of whatever happens, where's the knight-in-shining armor?"

Meredith pushed the elevator button. "Business trip in New York, remember? He arranged the Lydia sitting schedule with you, didn't he?"

"Oh, yeah. I forgot that he was leaving today, I guess." Izzie shrugged. "You and Lydia partying?"

"Sure, on the one night I have off this week," Meredith grumbled. "The guy from Sacramento comes in tomorrow, and my observer from here is none other than Bailey."

"That's weird, since she was your resident."

"The chief has a strange sense of humor, we know this."

"Yeah, you're right."

Meredith leaned against the wall of the elevator and sighed. "Bur really? If there has to be a week when I have no time off, I'm glad it's when Derek isn't here. That house is just so damn quiet."

Izzie nodded, and was about to ask if they'd thought of adding other, smaller, occupants when the doors opened.

They parted and Izzie smiled to herself as she headed to the OR. Whatever happened would happen. Still, she wasn't sure if she was ready for a proposal. They had broken up so many times, it just felt unstable.

She hadn't had a chance to check on Addison as she had meant to, with going with Alex to the wedding and everything, so when she got off at three that day she went straight to Addison's townhouse.

There were two cars parked in the driveway, and one of them was strangely familiar. Izzie paused, two houses away to watch Addison coming out of the front door, dragging a suitcase her red hair glinting in the sun. Derek Shepard following behind her, closing the door and locking it.

"Oh my God," Izzie breathed, and quickly backed out to drive away.

A/N So, I'm not a fan of the "GAGAGA" thing, but the stupid line break button isn't working!

Review!