Title: Cupcake Intervention

Author: Darley1101

Rating: PG 13 (language and adult references)

Premise: Season Four, a disagreement sends Izzie into a baking flurry and leaves Alex trying to clean up the mess he made.

The scent of baking chocolate waived through out the house, rousing Alex from a slumber he wasn't sure he wanted to be roused from. Groaning, he swung his stiff body over the side of the bed. Sure or not, it was time; time to go through the motions of life, if for no other reason than to keep Izzie off his back. She had turned maternal on him, offering to do even the most simplest of things for him. He had gotten rather nasty with her last night, yelling that he didn't need her to hold his fucking hand while he took a piss. He hadn't meant to be such an ass, but damn it he didn't need her hovering.

"She's baking," Meredith whispered when Alex emerged from his room. She was standing at the top of the stairs, wearing the long sleeved, too large Dartmouth t shirt and plaid flannel pants she always wore to bed, her arms crossed.

"So," Alex grumbled. He stifled a yawn, grimacing when he caught a whiff of his breath. First order of business would be a shower and brushing his teeth. With any luck Izzie, and her cupcakes, would be gone when he got out.

"You weren't here. When Denny died. She went cupcake and muffin crazy. Dozens and dozens of them." Meredith said lowly. Her large green eyes were filled with concern and confusion. "She only bakes when something's wrong. When she's upset or hurt." Lifting one slender hand, she batted some knotted dark blonde hair off her face. "I just can't figure out what set her off. She hasn't said anything to you, has she?" Alex remained silent. Izzie hadn't said anything to him, but he knew the cause of her hurt none the less. It was him. He had hurt her. She had tried to be there for him, to be his friend, and he had thrown her compassion back in her face. "No? Well, guess I had best go find out. Can't have her baking all day."

"All day?" Alex asked weakly. Meredith nodded, and then told him it was Izzie's day off, which meant she could get a lot of cupcakes baked. "I'll talk to her," he said finally. The relief that flashed across Meredith's face told him how bad his task was going to be.

"Good luck with that," Meredith patted his arm, and then turned to walk down the hallway and into the bathroom. He scowled. Great. He had hoped to get his shower in before having to corral Izzie's baking.

Alex sighed, running a hand over his short dark hair, and then started down the stairs. His pace slowed the closer he drew to the kitchen. Whether it was his fault or not, he wasn't looking forward to staging a cupcake intervention. "Morning," he said cautiously after he entered the kitchen. The sight before him took his breath away. Almost every inch of counter space was covered with cooling cupcakes. Chocolate, vanilla, confetti, chocolate chip, as well as several that he did not recognize. "Wow. That's…um…a lot of cupcakes." Izzie raised her head from the bowl of batter she was stirring. The dark, rich brown revealed it to be chocolate of some sort. She narrowed her eyes, muttered something under her breath, and then looked back down. Chunks of her blonde hair hung around her flushed face, some sticking to her neck. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like there was flour in the left portion. "So, what's the occasion?" She didn't look up, didn't acknowledge that she had heard him. "Come on Iz, you not talking to me now?"

The stirring stopped. She let the spoon fall from her hand, the wooden handle making a soft clattering sound against the side of the ceramic mixing bowl. "I wouldn't want you to accuse me of trying to help you take a piss," she snapped, grabbing the spoon back up.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Alex stepped closer to where she stood. She had yet to resume her stirring, just stood there holding the spoon. "I don't have any excuse just that I'm going through a rough time right now and I lashed out."

"Rough time? You're going through a rough time so that gives you the right to treat me like crap when I'm only trying to help?" The spoon clattered down again. She came around the counter, revealing that she only wore a Hello Kitty tank top and a pair of barely there pink shorts. "I have had it with trying to be your friend!" Her arm raised, he braced himself for the smack, only it never came. Instead, she jabbed a finger into his shoulder. "I was your friend when nobody liked you. I gave you a chance when most women thought you were an ass, and how did you repay me? You screwed George's syph nurse!" Her voice had taken on a shrill quality, it was all he could do not to grit his teeth and wince. "Sure, I might have been in the wrong with how I acted over the whole Denny thing, but you didn't even give me five seconds to grief him before trying to pounce. I trusted you, leaned on you and you blind side me with this…this kiss and just expect me to forget all about Denny." Another jab and she was stepping closer and closer, her body barely two inches from his. "I told you I wasn't ready, not that I wasn't interested, just not ready. And what do you do? You move with psycho ferry boat chick, leaving me to get drunk and wake up naked with George! George, Alex! I woke up naked with George and thinking it must mean something because, hey, I wouldn't have slept with my married best friend if it didn't!" The shriek had turned into a full blown yell that had him wanting to clap his hands over his ears, that or yell back. He did neither, just stood there, letting her jab her finger into the same spot over and over again while she yelled. "I freaking talked myself into thinking I was in love with him just so I could pretend I moved on. Well, guess what? It didn't work. The sex was crappy and George wasn't as lovable as I thought." She paused, taking a breath, no doubt so she could let him have it again. "Through out all that I was your friend. I was your freaking friend even though I didn't want to be! And how do you repay me? You refuse to listen to me. You call me a bitch. You threaten to hit me. You made me kiss you…okay maybe not made, but close enough…and I still stood by you. Only to have you accuse me of wanting to hold your hand while you take a piss. Well guess what, you don't have to worry about that anymore, because I am tired of pretending to be your friend!"

Pretending to be his friend. The words slammed into his gut like a knife. Pain seared through him, along with panic. He couldn't imagine a life without Izzie in it. "I'm sorry," he whispered, hating the lump that was forming in his throat. He had cried in front of her once, he wouldn't do it again; not when he didn't have the story of his mother to hide behind.

"Sorry? You're sorry! I don't care. I am tired of being hurt, Alex, which seems to be all you're capable of doing. Hurting and not listening." She moved away, shaking her head. Her large dark eyes looked ready to spill over. "I said I wasn't ready, not that I wasn't interested," she said softly, still shaking her head. "Not ready and not interested are two different things, but I guess in your book their not."

Izzie strode back over to where her cupcake batter stood, and picked the spoon back up. Alex stood there in shock, trying to process everything she had just said. At first he couldn't' move past her saying she was pretending to be his friend, and then, slowly, it all started to fall into place. "Izzie?" She looked up, glaring. "You care about me, don't you?" Her eyes narrowed into two, glittering slits. He wanted to laugh. It was hysterical. All this time. She had cared about him all this time. Not as a friend either. "You do. You care about me."

"I cared about Meredith's stupid dog, too, so don't let it go to your head or think that it means something," Izzie sputtered, her cheeks flushing more than they already had been.

"You care," Alex grinned. She cared about him. Hell, she might even love him, but he wasn't going to go down that path just yet. "Come on, admit it!" He moved closer to her, standing by her side. She looked as though she wanted to hit him with the spoon. "Come on, Iz, just admit it. You'll feel better. Just repeat after me: Alex, I care about you."

For a minute he thought she was going to pick the bowl of batter up and dump it over his head. She didn't; she stared at him, a thoughtful look on her face, which quickly turned to horror. "Oh God. I care about you. You!" Not exactly the reaction he had hoped for. She moaned, pushing the bowl away and almost running from the kitchen. He thought about stopping her, but refrained. She cared about him, it was enough for now. Now, being the next ten minutes. He would let her calm down and digest, then he would tell her he cared to.