Chapter Two

"We passed that cow four times now," George complained, peering out the passenger window of the black Suburban. The Suburban had been the agent from the car rental agencies idea. The slick bastard had worn a cowboy hat and a string tie with over starched dark blue jeans. If he checked, Wrangler would have been on the back pocket, he was certain. The man had been a stereo-typical Texan.

"Which cow? There are cows everywhere, O'Malley!" Alex snapped. As though spurred on by his anger, the large SUV picks up speed.

George presses his lips together. It should have been him driving. He knew how to follow directions. The agent who had rented them the house had emailed Izzie directions. Not that Izzie would have handed them over. Oh no, not Izzie. It was hard to believe there had once been a time when they had been best friends. Anymore, they worked hard to avoid each other. It was the drunken nakedness; that was what had ruined their friendship. There was no answer to whether or not anything had happened during the drunken nakedness. He supposed that was where the problem lay. They had no idea whether they had or hadn't. If there had been some answer, there could have been closure. As it was, there was nothing. No closure. No friendship. Nothing. "The black cow. The one that is alone in the pasture with the red horse. We've passed it four times."

"Dude, we have not!" The muscles in Alex's jaw work, a noticeable twitch starting. His hands seem to grip the steering wheel tighter as well. The jaw twitches, the hands clench, then he let's out a sigh before relaxing. His right hand reaches down to flip on the radio. Some upbeat song about who was cheating who was on. From the back Cristina snorts as a line about whose car was parked next door was sung. "Aw, O'Malley, they're singing a song about you!"

"Hey," Izzie hisses. The driver's seat lurches forward a bit, indicating that she had taken her wrath out by shoving the seat. Alex mutters something about teasing before flipping the radio back off.

"I think we're lost," Meredith says, a rather resigned tone to her voice. She had seemed resigned about the whole trip. George knew it had something to do with Derek. Rumor had it he had backed out to do some surgery that could have waited. He felt bad for Meredith, having a surgery chosen over her, but in a way, he was relieved. Things were not what they should be with Callie. Not that he expected them to be. They had an arrangement, him and Callie. In order to save face with her family, she wanted the marriage to last a bit longer. There was no reasoning behind it. It didn't matter if they divorced now or in six months, everyone would still say that they had made a mistake.

"We're not lost!"

George looks over at Alex again. It really should have been him driving. Izzie's fault again. Back at the lot, they had taken a vote on which guy should drive. Meredith had refused, said as long as it wasn't her, she didn't care. It had been cast to Izzie and Cristina, both of which voted Alex. It had stung, knowing they had so little confidence in him. "We're lost. Face it, Karev. You're driving in circles!"

"I am not," Alex shot back. The twitch was back, as was the gripping of the steering wheel.

"You are. You just don't want to admit it," George snaps. A quick glance at the gas gage told him they had wasted a half of a tank of gas already. The monster they were driving didn't get the best gas milage. They needed to be careful, to stay within budget. Then he remembered, he was the only one with the budget. Him and Alex.

"Dude, will you just shut up! I'm the one driving. I think I would know if I was lost!"

Right. Alex would admit to being lost. George didn't buy that. "And there is the cow and the horse again."

"I think it is the same cow," Meredith adds. "Not that I'm on a side, or anything, but I think George is right. I think we are lost."

"Thank you Mere!" George turns slightly in his seat to smile at her, the one friend he had in the vehicle. Izzie's dark gaze meets his, holding for a moment. The coldness from that gaze sent a chill down his spine. Typical Izzie; she blamed him for the whole affair. Affair. There was no proof there had even been an affair. That didn't matter to Izzie. She blamed him. "Do you want me to drive?"

"I can drive, O'Malley. If they wanted you to drive, you would be driving." The twitch was getting worse. His knuckles were white from gripping the wheel so tightly.

"I should be…" His words were cut off by the radio flipping on again. He frowns. Alex's hands hadn't moved, and he sure as hell hadn't messed with any controls. The women hadn't reached up either. He was certain he would remember one of them leaning up and turning on the radio. "How…"

"Backseat controls" Cristina smirks. She was humming the song under her breath. This one was worse than the song Alex had turned on. In this one, the woman sang about keying the side of truck, carving her name into a leather seat, and bashing out the headlights. The real clencher was when she sang about him thinking before cheating again.

"Where's your car O'Malley?"

He looks over at Alex, who had a smug grin on his face. "It's in the hotel parking lot." The hotel where Callie lived. A thought crosses his mind, he quickly dismisses it. Alex was messing with him. Trying to make him forget that they were lost. He wasn't going to let him do it. Callie wouldn't vandalize his car. She was above that sort of thing. Wasn't she? Yes. Yes she was.

"Right now," Cristina murmurs, "she's singing some white trash version of Shania karoke." Not the exact words, but close enough. He looks back at her, discovering that Meredith and Izzie were staring at her as well. "What?" Her tone was defensive.

"Nothing," Izzie says, trying to hide a smile behind her hand. She looks away, sucking in her breath, a sign that she was trying not to laugh.

"Yang, since when do you know the words to a country song?" Alex was chuckling as he tried to peer down at the directions in his lap. He was trying not to look obvious. Clearly, he knew they were lost. Dammit, the guy should just admit it.

"Shut up Karev," Cristina snaps. "She was on American Idol." They all stare at her again. "What? Okay. Fine. I watch American Idol. I vote for the best singer. I own a Carrie Underwood C.D. Happy now? Know my deep, dark secret."

"Um, whose Carrie Underwood?" Meredith wrinkled her brow, raising a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Most of it was scraped back in a loose ponytail.

Cristina shakes her head, then leans into the front. "Pull over."

Alex glances back at her before complying. "Why am I pulled over?" He leans on the wheel, looking over his shoulder to the backseat.

"Because we're lost. And I am going to get us away from the fucking cow!"

Silently, George applauds Cristina, a smile on his face.