Thank you for all your reviews.

Disclaimer: Still don't own them. Song lyrics are from Coldplay.

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"The future's for discovering the space in which we're traveling

From the top of the first page to the end of the last day"

One Month Later.

"But Meredith dumped the non-doctor almost three weeks ago," Cristina was saying earnestly. For the past ten minutes, she had been trying to convince Meredith to just jump Derek, already. Cameron just smiled, knowing too well that affairs of the heart often took their own time. The women were sitting in Mer's kitchen, and Meredith and Cristina were bickering as Izzie attempted to teach Cameron how to bake her special cookies.

Meredith winced at the memory of the last time she saw Finn. "Don't remind me," she muttered. It was not a memory she wanted to hold near and dear to her heart, that was for certain. Finn had been nice about it, of course. He always was. He was Finn. And everything that Meredith had said felt trite and wrong, because he was Finn and not Derek and really, how did you say that nicely?

"I told you to bring Finn some of my muffins, Mer," Izzie nagged, rubbing flour from her forehead and taking a swig of beer. "More vanilla," she instructed Cameron, who dutifully complied.

"Izzie. What was she supposed to say? Sorry Finn I don't love you, but here – have these muffins my roommate baked for her dead millionaire fiancé?" Cristina retorted.

"Cristina!" Meredith hissed in shocked warning. Izzie had come so far, but she wasn't quite ready to talk about what had happened after Denny's death. Cameron shot a sympathetic glance at Izzie, knowing the other woman might never be ready. She still remembered how House's comments about Brian's death had stung, as though he had only made them yesterday. She reached out to squeeze Izzie's hand, and the gesture seemed to give the blonde strength.

"Get back to the point," Izzie said crossly, waving her spoon in Cristina's general direction, and her voice only wavered the slightest bit. As much as she loved her friends, having Cameron's experience to draw from had made a real difference for her.

"Right. My point." Cristina proceeded to pour Meredith and herself another shot of tequila. "My point is, she broke it off with the vet weeks ago, but she still hasn't told McDreamy? Meredith, you need to stop being so emotionally stunted." Satisfied that she had made her case, Cristina sat back with a smirk.

"Says the girl who lied to her boyfriend about moving in with him," Cameron mocked teasingly. Cristina glared. "What? George told me. Here, eat this." She proffered a freshly baked cookie as a peace offering. Cristina looked at it with suspicion, but accepted the token. Cameron stuffed one in her own mouth before continuing her thought. "All I'm saying is, I get it. The guy hurt her, and there's no guarantee he won't do it again. That's a scary thing to go back to – putting yourself out there to be hurt again." Cameron shuddered slightly, thinking of House. "I get it." She grabbed a second cookie, and paused, then turned to Meredith teasingly. "On the other hand, Mer, McDreamy's hot, and he's got the hots for you. So take one for the team here!"

Meredith tried to glare at her, but couldn't help but laugh. "So you're all ganging up on me, is that it? And here I thought he wasn't your type," she said to Cameron, referencing the conversation the two had had on the first day they met. She paused, remembering that day and her earlier revelations in the supply closet. "Listen, I get it. I know. He's the one, and all that. But Cameron's right. He's the one, and that scares the crap out of me. I all our of second chances."

They all chewed thoughtfully, processing Meredith's admission. It was Cameron who broke the silence when it had stretched too long.

"Damn these cookies are good."

"Seriously," Cristina agreed. "Cameron's giving you a run for your money, Izzie."

"She's like a freaking Martha Stewart in the kitchen," Mer agreed. "Remember that dinner she cooked – what was it, last Thursday?"

"Don't remind me," Cameron groaned. "I am still working off those calories."

The conversation continued, and Cameron leaned back slightly in her seat to observe her new friends. It was amazing, really, how quickly that had happened – friendship, easily given. Not at all tortured and painful, the way it had been at Princeton. Here, Cameron had just arrived and slipped into the tight-knit Seattle group. She'd moved out of the hotel and into the spare bedroom after that first night, and her walls had been crumbling in this new environment ever since.

Cameron and Izzie had bonded immediately over their mutual loss of a loved-one. Cameron rarely talked about the loss of Brian, but she sensed that Izzie needed to talk about Denny, his life and death. The two women had gone out one night, gotten drunk on expensive wine ("I have eight million dollars," was Izzie's defense), cried, talked, and a silent understanding was born. With Izzie, Cameron could be act like a girl. Since her work on the diagnostics team came in spurts, and Izzie wasn't operating until her probation was up, they often spent hours shopping, cooking, and chatting.

Alex and George reminded Cameron of Foreman and Chase. She enjoyed their ceaseless bickering and ignored their occasional attempts at flirtation. She understood that neither was really interested in her – in fact, she suspected that Alex still carried something of a torch for Izzie, though he would die before he admitted it. Every Thursday morning, Cameron and George went running – they were contemplating running a half-marathon on Thanksgiving Day ("anything to get me out the annual O'Malley turkey hunt," George said darkly, and Cameron hadn't pressed the issue.) Cameron was slowly coming to regard them as brothers.

Cristina was her typical standoffish and sarcastic self at first, but eventually her desire to know more about House had won out. She couldn't get enough of Cameron's stories about cases the PPTH team had handled and House's approach to patient care in general ("He told the patient what?" was her amazed refrain as she walked away with an impressed grin on her face.) However, it was the day at lunch when Cameron helped Cristina perform an emergency cricothyrotomy using a kitchen knife on a diner patron who had collapsed that really sealed the deal. ("That was so cool," Cameron admitted breathlessly after the paramedics had rushed the woman to SGH.) Secretly, Cameron actually enjoyed Cristina's sarcasm and bluntness – it reminded her of home.

Meredith and Cameron had bonded over the similarities in their recent relationships – or "non-relationship," as Cameron called hers. The egged each other on with horror stories ("Worst moment?" "When his wife asked if I was the intern who was sleeping with her husband. No wait. When my underwear was on the bulletin board. No wait, when I told his wife's new boyfriend that I was an adulterous whore.") Cameron was beginning to believe that with the help of enough alcohol and late-night movie marathons, in healing each other they might just fill that little hole that persisted in themselves.

In short, thanks to these people, Cameron was rediscovering her faith in herself. She had even attempted a few dates of late. She'd gone out twice with a resident in Ortho that she met through Callie Torres. Sparks hadn't flown, but truthfully, Cameron wasn't sorry. Romance was a lot easier when it didn't involve your heart.

"Hey earth to Cameron!" The other women were peering at her curiously. She grinned sheepishly, realizing she had lost the train of conversation minutes ago. "Joe's?"

Cameron smiled, reaching for the strings on her apron. "Absolutely."

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Two hours later, the women had built a significant pyramid of empty shot glasses. They were currently dancing and singing along to Madonna on the jukebox, oblivious to the other bar patrons. Joe stood behind the bar, laughing at the spectacle before him. Unbeknownst to Meredith, Derek sat in a corner booth, sulking over his glass of scotch, a watchful eye on her.

The bells above the door tinkled, announcing a new arrival. Derek looked up to see Mark and Addison enter. Addison nodded and squeezed Mark's hand as he whispered in her ear. She headed towards the bar as Mark made a beeline for Derek.

"Want me to hit you again?" Derek growled as Mark approached. The other surgeon winced, touching his face gently.

"Not particularly. This face is way too precious. Why so glum, amigo?"

"We're not friends, Mark," Derek replied, tiredly, but some of the old anger had gone. He could not soon forget his old love for Addison – after eleven years of marriage, he still thought of her as family, and hoped he would always feel that way. So if Mark made Addison happy, Derek was willing to attempt to get over the fact that his former best friend was a lying, cheating sack of –

"You look like hell," Mark said, interrupting Derek's train of thought. Derek glared at him, but Mark ignored the warning look. "This about the young Ms. Grey?" he asked, mischievously inclining his head towards the blissfully ignorant intern as he slid into the booth across from Derek. "Listen, Derek. Addie and I were talking -"

"Don't -"

"No, you listen to me now. You're being a jackass, and that's something I know a little about."

"You don't know the first thing about my relationship with -"

"My turn still. Do you love her, Derek?"

Derek stared stubbornly, sourly into his scotch. Finally, he nodded.

"Then do what it takes, man. She's terrified. Can you blame her? You hurt her and that's not something that goes away because you're getting a divorce. But she loves you – no don't give me that look, because I know she does. It comes with the dirty mistress territory. Be a man, Derek. Do something before it's too late."

"I said I'd wait, Mark. Give her the time she needed. Damn it I know I've made mistakes." He slammed his empty glass down as Addison approached him with a fresh one. Senselessly, it made him even angrier to be comforted by his ex-wife and her new boyfriend, or whatever Mark was to Addison. "I am trying to be a patient man here," he finished, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

"Don't be too patient -" Addie said gently. "We women can be awfully stubborn."

"Alright, happy couple, that's enough," Derek scowled. "Enough relationship advice from my exes for one lifetime. Leave the single man to his scotch."

Addison nodded, and she and Mark wandered off to find a table of their own.

Derek was glaring at the drink she had brought him when a harsh beeping broke through his rambling thoughts. He looked down at his pager, which was flashing 911.

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