The glass was sweating; fat beads of water slipping down the sides while she stared so long her eyes started to sting. Izzie was watching her from over a cup of bitter coffee, a few strands of hair falling in front of one suspicious eye. They had been like that since Meredith had woken up that morning and stumbled into the kitchen for breakfast, nearly colliding with an unusually silent blonde roommate.

They had barely glanced at each other until Meredith had suddenly decided to go catatonic.

"Is there a reason that we're more dark and twisty than usual?" Izzie asked finally.

Meredith shook her head, blinking but not bothering to shift her attention towards Izzie.

The girl had looked like her. The girl had looked so much like her that an incredible, terrifying thought had worked itself into her mind; what if the girl, by some amazing coincidence, was hers? What if Mark's friends from New York were Addison and Derek Shepherd, young newlyweds desperate for a child?

She had begun having sporadic meetings with a consult at the local family planning building downtown, and she had officially made her choice-she was putting her daughter, Evelyn Ellis Grey, up for adoption.

There had been a couple meetings with possible parents in stuffy, windowless rooms that lacked working air conditioners. All of the parents were wrong, though. So wrong that she wondered if she was really making the right decision.

They were either too rigid or not rigid enough, too smart or not smart enough; too dull, too brunette, too all-American.

It was starting to become obvious to her that no parents would be adequate, and with only a month to go, she was starting to run out of time.

After a particularly grueling session with a couple from Oklahoma, she made the call and he answered on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"I'm only doing this because I have no choice. I don't want to meet them, and I don't want them to know who I am."

"Whatever you want. I'll book a flight for tomorrow."

"Fine."

"Meredith, this means a lot…"

"It shouldn't."

"Right. I'll see you soon?"

"I won't be civil."

"I'm not expecting you to be civil."

"Good."

"Good."

She winced.

"Are you okay? You've been staring at that for well over ten minutes."

"I'm fine."

The door slammed, followed by a serious of crashes. Moments later a breathless, haggard George appeared at the door, backpack slung over one shoulder.

"The nurses are going on strike," he announced, crossing over to Izzie and wrenching a cabinet open.

"What?" Izzie asked, "What do you mean the nurses are going on strike? Doctors can't work without nurses!"

"Exactly what I said! How do they expect us to work when there isn't anyone doing all the dirty work?"

Ignoring the cold, Meredith wrapped her hands around her glass, cutting in quietly, "Maybe we won't have to go into work anymore."

They both stared.

"We can't just boycott work along with the nurses," Izzie lectured gently, "We're doctors; there are sick people out there who need our help."

"Damn sick people," she mumbled back.

"What's wrong?" George asked, pouring the last of the coffee into a mug.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Uh huh."

"Really, I'm fine," she insisted, shifting her eyes back in forth between them, "I'm fine."

"You're not really convincing us here, Meredith."

"At least she's not drinking alcohol anymore," Izzie murmured to George, then louder, "Meredith? That's not vodka, right?"

"All the vodka's gone," she said pitifully, dragging the glass closer and looking mournfully down at her dissolving ice cubes, "along with all of the Tequila."

"Great, so she drank our entire stash," George said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "That makes me feel so much better, Iz."

"Well it's not like I can keep an eye on her all the time, George. I have work, too."

"I don't understand how she could have drunk everything we had when she's intern. Where does she find the time?"

"I spiked everything," Meredith answered, "Orange juice, coffee, lemonade…"

She looked like she was about to cry.

"Mer, hey…what happened?"

She shrugged away George's arm around her shoulder.

"I'm only upset because we have no more alcohol."

"Right."

They didn't look convinced.

"Look, he came to see me yesterday-"she began grudgingly.

"Ah," they both chorused knowingly.

She chose to ignore them.

"He came to see me yesterday and he tried to explain."

There was a short pause.

"Well?" they prompted.

"Well what?"

"Well, was it a good explanation?"

"Not particularly."

"Oh."

"So….Do you guys want to go to the liquor store for me?"

"We're cutting you off," George answered after a quick look at Izzie, and she groaned.

"You guys are supposed to help me, not deprive me."

"Trust us, we're helping you," George said.

"Our shift starts in half an hour," Izzie said, ignoring both comments, "Do you need me to help you brush your teeth or do you think you have that covered?"

"I think I have that covered," Meredith mumbled obediently, getting up exaggeratingly slow and turning towards the stairs.

"Good," Izzie said forcefully, jumping off her perch on the kitchen counter and trailing a few feet behind her roommate as she made her way painstakingly up to her room.

AN: I apologize for the subtle Oklahoma dig, if you could call it that. I just needed somewhere that was kind of…yeah. I have nothing against it, though. Oh, and the whole alcohol thing is my way of letting out my fleeting obsession with Pirates of the Caribbean because I just saw the third one (it was kind of a jack sparrow moment btw) and I fell in love with Johnny Depp…again.

Anyway, sorry it's been so long for me to get this up, I've just been a little busy with family and stuff since graduation is this week…yeah!! I only have two more days of school, though, so hopefully I'll be able to post more after this week. Let me know what you think!!! Review.