Thank you once again for the reviews! What may only take you a moment truly means the world to me! J Makes me wanna write more…so let the games begin…

Just as an aside, I felt like I had to explore Izzie's mindset in depth during the whole Hannah drama. I think that those moments created a beautiful foundation for what George and Izzie share and hopefully continue. Bare boned, pissed off, and at wits end with the drama that is Grey's…he was there, and it spoke to me. And who didn't just want to have a sliver of the hotness that was the pant scene? To send my story to sea, I had to make the ship, but for expedience sake, I will not be recapping all the episodes in Izzie speak. Everything to this point that has happened in the show has happened here, but now my darling shall sail…

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They say that life is a rollercoaster and that you should enjoy the ride. Ups and downs make you appreciate what you've got. I am not saying I am ungrateful, but every once in a while, I'd prefer to stroll the park than be the main attraction. I just want off the friggin' thing! Is that too much to ask? I am in a good place. May I please enjoy it?

Maybe I am just morose because the rain pelting against the window pane ever so slightly resembles the onslaught of crap being pelted against me.

I am Model Doctor, Deer Saver extraordinaire. Whoopty friggin' doo. PETA unite. No, please do. Seriously. Because those bitches that are my Interns will never do so for me. Hate them. How can they , who barely know the difference between a bandaid and a bullet hole, criticize me? And, more importantly, why do I care? Who knows? I sure don't.

When I am not busy being that freak, I am Dirty Mistress, Slut of Seattle Grace. I get more dirty looks in an hour than a weeping lesion. How wrong is that? This hospital could basically fund the entire Trojan Empire, and I am the slut. For one night that gave me the love of my life. Hello? Have these people even met McSteamy? What makes it worse, is that I feel every inch like the Dirty Girl. I stole someone's husband. My boss' husband. The one I told repeatedly, in a fury, that I was his best friend only. Ha. No matter how wrong they were for each other, I am eternally wrong in my rightness. How much does that suck?

But in the in between times, when light meets dark and it all becomes hazy, I have these soft moments. He loves me. He may have been hesitant. I may have been pushy. But he loves me. He loves me! George picked me! He left her for me! To say "over the moon" would be a slight underrating of what I am feeling now. Now matter what happens, I have these moments that make it all worthwhile.

So back to square one in all senses of the phrase.

I return to the pelting, painful rain, and George and I find ourselves with first-time jitters under Meredith's roof. More precisely, I wait in my bed under Meredith's roof with the rain while I await my lover's return. I think what people don't get is that this scandalous love of ours, is simply times we've shared amplified by a thousand. We are still George and Izzie, living with Meredith, surviving the hospital, sharing a bed along with our dreams and secrets. Only this time we do it naked. A very pleasant shift, indeed. Never the less, these past few weeks have been dazzling. Who knew how much a drunken night could change? It even gave me one more "I Am" statement.

I am a mother. Again. Rather soon-to-be, again. Only this baby I can keep, I think. This baby has a chance at a real life with me…and a Daddy. I find it so hard to believe George is going to be a Daddy. Better than just a Daddy, he will be the good kind that shapes his child into a beautiful someone. I am even having a hard time grasping that I will be a mother. A real one this time. The kind that gives kisses and muffins, not just bone marrow and a lifetime away from me.

Yup.

Just like that, in one go that fateful night, two became one in more than a spiritual way. Even as I touch my flat belly in disbelief, I know it is true.

Of course I have been sick-it was a familiar feeling from a time so long ago. I definitely saw it in black and white-I am a doctor for God's sake. But this time, I am mostly blessed with a lightness that everything will be okay.

I think.

He doesn't know yet what will be sprung on him when he comes off that twelve hour shift. He will know something is wrong simply by the copious amounts of baked goods spilling off the kitchen counter, but he won't know what. If I know my George, and I do, he will run sweetly to me though he is dead tired demanding to know who picked on me now. He will cuddle me close, and kiss me in reassurance. Only this time my nervous shakes will be tremors of trepidation and delight as I tell him our secret…the one born right on this very bed we now share at night.

I squeeze my eyes tight in silent prayer, "Please let him be okay with this". I can't have him turn cold. Not when he is my only sunshine in the storm. Not with our child growing inside of me, just like we have been growing since that night.

I hear the door unlock then open.

Please, please, please…

He catches the scent of muffins, brownies, and cakes that have been turning my stomach all night. My newly minted, determined George calls out for me, already slightly pissed about whatever could have been said today.

"Izzie? Iz? You upstairs?"

He makes his way to me and I could almost puke. I can barely make a sound as he reaches our door and pushes it open.

"George…"

His face morphs from hard to soft and back again…I must have started crying.

"Who hurt you, baby? I love you too much to see you cry. What can I…?"

Suddenly, my mouth gets a raging case of verbal diarrhea and I cut him off quick.

"I'm not hurt, George! We're having a baby!"

My eyes go wide, and I clasp my mouth.

Please, please, please…