Chapter Five: Nothing, and Everything All At Once.

"Cristina Yang? Is that you?" Miranda Bailey said incredulously, as she saw her former surgical-intern for the first time at the small gathering at Izzy's house after the funeral.

"Dr. Bailey! How have you been all these years?" Cristina said, absently rubbing her very pregnant stomach. "Who'd have thought that I, the most competitive intern, destined for an amazing career, would wind up pregnant, when my career has basically just started?"

"Not me," Bailey said, and chuckled.

"Me either, Dr. Bailey!" Cristina said.

"Honestly, Cristina, its Miranda now." Bailey said. "You're not my intern anymore, and I'm not a resident anymore."

"Only if you remember its Cristina Burke now," Cristina said as both women laughed, and sat down on a comfortable, worn, brown leather couch to continue talking.

George O'Malley meanwhile was trying to locate Izzy Stevens-Karev. While she had once been a major part of his life, his best friend and confidante, he hadn't spoken to her in over a year, with the exception of a Christmas card, as well as birthday cards for him, and his two kids. It had been entirely too long, although he still felt that magnetic pull toward Izzy, and he still felt that amazing bond he had with her, even ten years later. Yet where was she? He scanned the crowd, all varying heights and shapes, cloaked in a variety of dark, sombre shades, their faces solemn at the funeral; were now brighter, smiling and hobnobbing with the other guests. The crowd varied from doctors, and their families, to surgeons (there is a big difference, mind you), to distant relatives, friends and neighbours, all to celebrate a man that George had never particularly cared for. When they were at Seattle Grace, he was an ass, a jerk, a womanizing man-whore- not as bad as Sloane, but still not a very upstanding man. Yet, as he grew older, and his affections for Izzy grew, his inner soft-side became evident, and still George couldn't get over his loathing for him.

First off, George, in his position as BEST FRIEND, had full right to say that Alex wasn't good enough for Izzy, and while he used to be right, but looking around the living room of the house they shared, at all the pictures of the happy couple on the walls and tables, he had the striking suspicion that he was now in the wrong.

As he walked into the front hall, continuing his search for Izzy; where the people who just came to the 'after-party' to save face were leaving, a full half-hour after the start.

The walls of the narrow hallway were adored with more pictures of Izzy and Alex-

Izzy and Alex getting married, Izzy and Alex on the beach, Izzy and Alex in a third-nations country, giving surgeries, and Izzy and Alex smiling outside their new house, the 'Sold Sign' still stuck in the ground. They were smiling hugely in all of the pictures, and in more than one Alex was gazing adoringly at Izzy, who was most often oblivious, looking at the photographer.

In one especially adorable picture, Alex had his strong muscular arms around Izzy's waist, his head bowed, his mouth open as if he was caught mid-sentence, Izzy standing in front of him, her delicate hands on his, her head facing down, her mouth open wide, laughing at something he had whispered in her ear.

What was it about being in this house, seeing these pictures, seeing Izzy that was making George's head spin? What was making him furious, just looking at the pictures of the perfect couple in action? Could it be that maybe, after all these years he was still in love with Izzy?

He had always romanticized having a relationship with her- they were so close, that it was hard not to just imagine the next step- but he knew that they were friends. Had they met in a different way, then maybe, they could have had a romantic relationship, but fate had another game plan. So he took their relationship as it was, not questioning it, letting her get hurt by Alex, and then fall for him again.

He had moved on; he had a wife, two kids- he loved them all to bits. So what was with him? His head was spinning, and he felt a little ill. He was startled by a light tapping on the shoulder, and he spun around, looking at the perpetrator- medium length blonde hair, blue eyes, straight nose, teeth with imperfections, and full pink lips. Could it really be? It was, Izzy Stevens-Karev.

"George, oh, George," she whispered, and moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder, letting the tears she was holding back come. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, sheltering, protecting, comforting. He regulated his breathing to match hers, even though they were slightly shaky and unsure. He patted her hair, her beautiful hair, and sighed. "Oh, Izzy," he whispered, and squeezed her harder, and then he realized that even though they hadn't seen each other much in ten years, nothing had changed, and yet everything had. They still worked, they still clicked, they still fit, perfectly together.

A/N

First new chapter in a LONG TIME. I know. I'm going to write more, soon. Please review. Thanks.