Chapter Two

"He's petty." Cristina Yang snapped angrily as she dropped her entire body weight onto the gurney next to Meredith Grey. The force and violence of the impact popped Meredith's iPod ear buds from her ears, interrupting The Flaming Lips' "Do You Realize?" and her thoughtless, daydreaming reverie of dark-haired, blue-eyed Irishmen. Meredith opened her eyes, switched the device off, and resigned to her few moments of peace being over.

"Who is?"

"Burke." Cristina practically spat his name. Meredith sat up next to Cristina, mirroring her position with her back to the whitewashed wall of the infamous Intern's basement corridor retreat.

Since she had laid down, it had become illuminated with bright morning sunlight, but still held a secretive, secluded quality that made it the perfect haven for over-worked, over-wrought interns. The only thing they had to worry about bothering them there, were other interns.

"Why?" She asked, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn.

"He isn't letting me in on a consult with the Chief that he was up so early for today because I never told him my parents came into town last weekend." Cristina took to aggressively gnawing on a hangnail.

Meredith shrugged. "Well, this is the kind of thing you open yourself up for when you date a doctor. Normal boyfriends would just withhold sex. And, he is your boss. I told you it was a bad idea to date an attending."

"Seriously? Judgment from the woman who, within her first week, screwed a fellow intern and contracted syphilis?" Cristina pointed out, earning an elbow from Meredith.

"Seriously! That was a million years ago! And below the belt, where your silent pager sits, until you learn how to be a better girlfriend!" She returned. Their exchange could have been interpreted as hostile, but their friendship was a unique one—and by unique, it was an entirely honest friendship, free of the sweet little lies and avoidances of most.

They lapsed into commiserating silence, but almost immediately this was interrupted by a surly voice saying, "Oh, cat fight. Can I watch?"

"Deviant." Meredith replied with a sneer at the sight of Alex Karev, a one-night-stand she had indulged in the night before her first day of her internship, only to later find him to be her colleague and, to her horror, a carrier of syphilis. But, in retrospect, the brush with Alex had cured—for the most part—her of her admittedly promiscuous ways from college, so in a small way, she was almost thankful for it. In a very, very, small way.

"Don't you have some Hell minions waiting for commands somewhere?" Cristina asked snidely.

"Nope…I heard about some big-time consult Burke's having with the Chief, so I freed myself up just in case." He replied easily, chopping viciously into an apple as he threw himself up into a supine position on a neighboring gurney.

"No way, Evil Spawn. I'm in on that consult." Cristina leaned forward, almost as if to pounce on him for even suggesting otherwise.

"From what I heard of your engaging bitching just moments ago, Burke 86ed you from it." Alex replied casually, examining his half-eaten apple with sarcastic interest.

"But to actually choose you over me? Doubt it." Cristina snapped, though she sat back with a pout, knowing he was probably right.

"What are we doubting?" George O'Malley inquired as he struggled to balance three mochas on a flimsy cardboard carrier while he made his way towards them.

"Alex's humanity." Meredith replied, taking the mocha with the "M" scrawled in black sharpie on the side.

"There's still doubt?" George asked in all seriousness, handing the other mocha over to Cristina and then situating himself next to Meredith.

"Very funny, Bambi." Alex snapped, whipping the apple into a nearby trashcan.

"Ooh. Don't talk about deer." Izzie Stevens glumly requested as she drug herself into the corridor shortly behind George, nursing her own steaming beverage.

"Why, what happened?" George asked as he edged over for her to situate herself on the gurney.

"I just spent the last hour stitching and compressing at least one hundred lacerations on some idiot who was pummeled by deer while hunting." She replied with a shake of her head and roll of her eyes.

"How does one get pummeled by a typically docile woodland creature?" Meredith inquired curiously, after blowing on her scalding drink.

"Well, I use the term 'hunting' loosely. He was shooting at it with bottle rockets, using the empty beer bottles he and his brother had downed." Izzie informed her, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wall.

"A prime example of a situation where natural selection has failed us." Cristina piped up, crossing her arms over her chest and deepening her pout.

"That's bitter." Izzie observed with raised eyebrows.

"She's bitter." Meredith supplied.

"At least I'm not petty." Cristina grumbled.

Just then, the heavy steel doors across from the gurneys swung open like the jaws of Hell, and Miranda Bailey stood before them, hands on her hips, brow furrowed.

"What reason on God's green earth do the five of you have for sitting so aimlessly on your behinds? Are you off duty, Karev? What about you, Stevens? Last I heard, Mr. Willis in Bed 10 needs more cold compresses for his hoof marks! O'Malley, I'm still waiting on my labs for Davis, and Yang, why aren't you prepping the Knowles girl for her tonsillectomy?" Before the end of her demands had even arrived, four bustling interns scrambled over each other clumsily, burning themselves with their drinks and getting tangled in each other scrubs. Only Meredith remained, innocently watching, and Bailey's eyes narrowed.

"And you…"

"I'm off duty!" she protested, putting her hands up in defense.

"Well, not anymore. Burke needs an intern." Bailey told her dismissively with a wave of her hand.

Meredith hurriedly collected her iPod and climbed off the gurney.

"On his high-profile, secret consults with the Chief?" she asked, her eyes wide and expectant.

"No, to pick up his dry cleaning. Yes for the consult! Move, Grey."


Addison took two long, "cleansing" breaths as she listened to the recording of her husbands' voice on his cell phone's voicemail. When her cue to speak finally sounded, she whispered through clenched teeth, "Derek, this is unbelievable. I don't know where the hell you are, but unless you're lying somewhere on the absolute cusp of death, I don't care. The plane leaves in twenty minutes."

She snapped her Blackberry into its dormant folded position, took two more "cleansing" breaths, and then walked back the few feet to where Sadie was sitting cross-legged, poking distractedly at her lunch as the chaotic din of the John F. Kennedy airport swirled around her. She seemed out of place in the bustle of business people, dressed in cozy black sweat pants and a grey hooded sweatshirt. Addison herself blended right in, dressed entirely in her staple black, topping it off with a camel jacket, but in that moment, her daughter had never seemed so small, so fragile, or so innocent.

Addison felt a protective surge of maternal love she had once—a very long time ago—doubted she even possessed, and sat with a sigh next to her daughter, running a hand affectionately through the little girl's thick hair. Derek's hair, really. Sadie looked up at her mother with imploring eyes.

"Mom, don't get mad." She said softly—heartbreakingly, to Addison.

"I'm not mad, Sadie. Finish your sushi." She responded quickly, moving her hand from Sadie's hair to rub her arm.

"You are so mad. You have that wrinkle in your forehead." Sadie accused, pointing vaguely with a chopstick at Addison's face. Addison had to smile, despite the mention of her anger wrinkles.

"Well, I'm not mad at you." She assured her, kissing her forehead.

"I don't want you to be mad at Daddy, either." Sadie persisted, stuffing an entire shrimp roll in her mouth, despite its elongated size. The result was a comical puffing of her cheeks, the sight of which finally coaxed Addison to let a small laugh escape.

"Sadie…I'm not. I just wish he was here."

There was a moment of silence while Sadie chewed, swallowed, and then jabbed at another roll.

"That isn't what you said the other night."

Before the gravity of the statement from her daughter could fully register with Addison, she saw Derek jogging towards them.

"Hey, sorry I'm late!" he greeted, stopping and panting slightly as he dropped his bags. His hair was windblown, his tie looser than he would have wore it at the office, and his face was flush, making him appear to have jogged the entire way.

"Hello." Addison greeted coldly, though at that moment, she was immeasurably less angry with her husband than she was with herself.

"Hi, Dad." Sadie greeted through a mouthful of rice. Derek smiled, and embraced her delicately.

"How's my girl? Keeping your blood pressure down? Taking the pills Dr. Ianello prescribed?" he asked, discreetly feeling her wrist and peering into her eyes at her pupils. Sadie nodded as she took a swig of her drink.

"Yup. Mommy wouldn't even let me use the stairs. I had to use the escalator. How boring! It moves so slow!" she informed him with a scowl.

"Patience is a virtue." He reminded her with a twinkle in his eye.

"But it's boring." She maintained with an emphatic nod.

"As often is the case. Finish that, they might confiscate it at the gate as a weapon of mass destruction." He pointed with distaste at the colorful mess on her plate. Sadie blinked, not understanding, but went back to busily finishing her sushi, a taste she had definitely acquired from Addison. While she struggled with the cute indelicacy of a child to fit another roll into her mouth, Derek took that moment to turn to his wife.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine. I'm going to go get hot cocoa." She bit her lip, warding off a wave of angry words or worse, tears. She stood quickly, as if to escape the image of her daughter overhearing her and Derek's argument of two nights prior.

"Juju!" Sadie exclaimed, hearing only the last bit about hot cocoa.

"Yes, we definitely need some juju today." Addison agreed, though her words were halted. She began towards the nearby coffee stand, but took only a few steps before Derek's hand was on her arm.

"Addison…" his eyes were soft, rounded with concern as entreated her. She had to close her eyes not to be taken in by the promise of solace.

"What, Derek?" she hissed under her breath.

"What's going on?" he asked, not matching her hostility, but remaining infuriatingly concerned.

"Nothing! I'm going to get some juju." She attempted to take another step, but he held fast.

"This isn't about juju."

"No, it's about you being late today."

"No, it's not about that either."

"Well then what is it about, since you seem to already know?" she snapped, damning herself when Sadie's eyes flicked over to them. She closed her eyes again, wishing there was some universal rewind button on life.

How far back would you go?

"I don't know exactly but it sure as hell isn't hot chocolate or tardiness!" Derek returned, still gentle in his expression, recognizing the deep pain and turmoil in his wife's eyes, wishing to erase it, or in the very least, help ease it a little.

"You know, you're right." She agreed, her voice low. "But what it is about is something I don't think our eight-year-old should hear any more of."

"Any more of?" Derek's mouth came slightly ajar as he began to realize what she was so upset about.

"Forget it, Derek. We've got other things to concern ourselves with right now."

She pulled again to free her arm, and he let her go, but not without saying, "Addison, we will talk about it."

"Right. When you're on time and our daughter's heart isn't slowly leaking blood."


A/N: And there was a second chapter! There is a purpose to this story, I promise! I just felt some more character interaction and explanations were needed. Keep the feedback coming, it makes me spectacularly happy! Thanks to all who have contributed thus far. More is to come...