A/N: Thank you so much for all of your feedback! I hope you all enjoy this chapter :D

Chapter Eighteen

Jackson helped his mother put her luggage into the trunk of the cab, thinking to himself that only Catherine Avery could end up with this many bags for a two day conference. He closed the hood of the trunk, wiping his hands on his pants.

"That's everything, right?" he asked.

Catherine nodded. "Yes, dear, that's everything. Thank you again for letting me stay with you." She glanced toward April with a soft smile. "And April, thank you for a wonderful lunch on Tuesday. I had a lovely time."

"Me too, Mrs. Avery.

"Anyway, I should be on my way," Catherine said airily. "I'm sure you wouldn't want me to miss my flight and have you stuck with me for another night."

"No," Jackson said loudly. "No, we would not. It was great seeing you, Mom."

Catherine grinned, pulling her son into a tight hug. She whispered in his ear, "You hold on to that girl over there."

He laughed against her hair. "That's the plan."

Catherine pulled away and gave April one last hug before gracefully ducking into the cab. Jackson closed the door, waving as the cab pulled away. He exhaled loudly when the cab turned the corner and murmured, "She's gone."

"Yes," April said, wrapping her arms around his waist. "You know what that means?"

"Hm?"

"An entire apartment to ourselves," she said. "Whatever will we do with all that space and privacy? Not a soul to disturb us?"

He gave her a look and she squealed with laughter when he grabbed her waist, pulling her into the apartment building.

It was a slow day at Seattle Grace. Only one ambulance had pulled up since the morning, and that had only been for a minor car accident. The guy ended up only needing stitches and a cast on his arm.

"I need something surgical," Cristina complained, leaning against one of the lockers in the locker room. "I haven't cut in, what, eight hours?"

Meredith sat on the bench in front of Cristina, tying her shoes. "At least you've seen the inside of an OR in the recent past. I feel like all I've been doing is paperwork since Hunt found out I'm seriously considering Boston."

"Have you guys gotten any further on that?" Cristina asked.

"No further than the last time you asked," Meredith answered with a slight grin. "Derek's pushing Boston, though."

"Of course he is. He has Harvard practically waiting on him hand and foot."

Meredith grinned. "I married a brilliant man, didn't I?

"Don't make me gag," Cristina deadpanned. Her beeper went off and she glanced down at her waistband. "Shit, I'm late for rounds. I have to go."

As Cristina walked out Meredith called after her, "I hope you get to cut something!"

Meredith finished tying her shoes and then headed out to find Bailey and start her own rounds.

"Tell us about our patient," Bailey said, glancing at April. She nodded and glanced down at the chart in her hand.

"The patient is Martha Bowers. 47. With flu-like symptoms and a rash on her abdomen."

"Why don't we take a look at this rash," Bailey said, stepping forward and tugging up the patient's shirt. On her torso was a heavy rash, stretching across the entire expanse of her abdomen. "Would you mind sitting up?" Bailey asked. Martha sat up and when Bailey glanced at her back she saw the rash had spread there, too.

"I see the rash has spread," Bailey noted. "When did you first notice it, Martha?"

"Last night. I thought it might just be from my detergent or something, but it got worse."

"Tell me, have you travelled anywhere outside of the country in the past few months?"

"I went on a mission trip to Uganda last month," Martha said. "I just got back two weeks ago."

"Did you get all the proper shots beforehand?"

Martha nodded. "Yes, I did. The organization that I went with was pretty adamant about all of us following through with preparations like that."

Bailey nodded. "Alright, Meredith, what course of treatment would you recommend?"

"I would recommend biopsying the infected area," Meredith began. "Also, due to the duration of symptoms and rash, I would order a IgC-capture ELISA to rule out any more serious infections."

"An IgC what?" Martha asked, tugging her shirt back down. "That sounds serious."

"It's just a precaution," Bailey told her. "In all likelihood, you only have a severe strain of the flu, but we want to cover all of our bases." Bailey glanced at April and Meredith and said, "Let's start off by drawing some blood and then order the IgC. We'll biopsy the infected area after that."

Derek joined Burke at the circulation desk, scribbling a few notes on a patient he had just rounded on. He glanced toward the taller man and said, "Good morning, Preston."

Burke dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Hello Derek."

"How's your first week back been?"

"Surprisingly tame," Burke said with a slight laugh. "Is it just me, or has this place calmed down somewhat?"

Derek laughed. "Yeah, we're all boring married people now. That tends to take some of the liveliness out of the working conditions."

Burke smiled, although Derek noticed that the expression was pinched. The other man was silent for a moment before saying, "Cristina's married."

"Yes, she is."

"Do you know her husband?"

Derek was surprised at first that Cristina hadn't told Burke that she was married to Owen, but it quickly passed. With more thought, her actions became less striking and more indicative of the Cristina Yang that he had known for the past eight years. She was private at the hospital, not sharing personal details unless practically interrogated. In this case, he almost couldn't blame her for keeping quiet around Burke. In fact, it was somewhat laudable that she hadn't taken her happiness and taunted the man who left her with it.

"It's Owen Hunt," Derek said, figuring that the bandaid would have to be ripped off eventually, and it was probably best that it was him. He had a feeling that some other doctors might have inadvertently added over details of that relationship that were best left out.

"Owen Hunt," Burke murmured. "She married the Chief of Surgery." There was a beat of silence and then he was laughing. "I'm not the least bit surprised. She always did aim high."

Derek smiled reluctantly despite Burke's incorrect assumption. "They were married before he became Chief. They married last year."

He nodded, fingers curling tightly around the chart in his hand. "Is she happy?"

"Shouldn't you be asking her that?"

"It wouldn't be professional," Burke said. It was a poor excuse and they both knew it. But Derek knew how uncomfortable having the past thrust upon you could be and how it could knock down the strongest man.

"She's happy," Derek told him. "Owen is good to her."

"Good. That is very good. Well, I have a surgery to get to."

"It was nice talking with you, Preston," Derek said, grateful himself that the Cristina Yang inquisition – delicate as it had been – was over.

"Yes, you too."

Derek watched Burke walk toward the elevators and thought to himself that the man had been wrong before. His presence alone indicated that this place hadn't calmed down. It never did.

Cristina and Burke stood side by side as they scrubbed into the surgery. He washed his hands with precision, scrubbing his hands and the length of his wrists methodically. His behavior had been strange ever since they met in the room. He had been silent, something that was not uncommon for Preston Burke, but this felt different to her.

"Is everything okay?" she asked. His voice seemed to wake him from his stupor and he nodded, smiling slightly.

"Yes, Cristina. Everything is fine."

She wondered if him and Owen had finally come to blows. Despite her husband agreeing to hire him, she didn't expect them to co-exist peacefully. Burke was arrogant and lofty, the antithesis of her husband. She figured it was only a matter of time before Owen snapped.

"Cristina, can I ask you something?" Burke asked smoothly.

She didn't like the sound of this.

"Uh, sure."

"Does your husband know about us?"

Well, that was unexpected. She looked up at him and said, "Yes. He does."

"And he had no issue with hiring me?"

Cristina returned his attention to her hands. So, he knew. She wondered who told him. Was it Callie Torres, letting it slip in conversation? Was it Alex, finding humor in the havoc he would cause? Or was it her own husband, staking his claim?

"You were the best surgeon for the position," she told him levelly.

"Surely, there must have been other choices that would have sufficed. Choices that hadn't slept with his wife."

"What are you getting at?" she asked.

"Did you intercede on my behalf?" he asked, stepping away from the sink.

"Yes, I did. He would have chosen you in the end regardless, though. He was opposed to the idea at first, for obvious reasons, but he's dedicated to this hospital. He would have seen that you were obviously the best choice and he would have hired you."

"Are you sure?"

She didn't like what he seemed to be suggesting. Yes, she had campaigned for his hiring, but she had in no way forced Owen's hand. That belittled both her and Owen.

"I know my husband," she said. "And yes, I'm sure that he would have hired you."

Burke sensed that she was upset and deftly back-stepped from the conversation. "Of course you know your husband. I'm sorry for pressing the issue. I was just surprised when I found out who you were married to."

"It's fine," she said, glancing longingly at the OR. She wanted to be in there, where the talk would revolve around heart chambers and arteries instead of her relationship with her husband. Burke was similarly anxious to get away from the current conversation – an uncomfortable situation that he admittedly created himself – and he nodded his head toward the OR.

"Alright, I think we're finished in here," he said.

Exhaling in relief, Cristina nodded. "Yes. We're finished."

Jackson walked up to April as she waited at the lab and knocked his elbow lightly against hers. She looked up at him with a bright grin and said, "Hi you."

He gave her a quick kiss. "Hello to you, too."

"Any good cases today?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Slow day. What are you waiting for?"

"My patient has a skin condition. I'm waiting for the biopsy results."

Jackson smirked. "You sound so excited."

"I should have gone into derm," April returned. "I bet you I could have passed those boards without a problem."

"Nah, everyone knows dermatology is fake medicine."

She laughed, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Anyway, this is about all the excitement I've had for today."

"So, you're saying we should meet in an on-call room in an hour or two?" Jackson proposed with a slow grin. "Give the afternoon a little excitement?"

She laid a hand on his chest. "Down boy. While there might not be much excitement, there is work. I can't be slinking off with you all the time."

"Once is not all the time, Kepner."

"Keep your pants on, Avery," she returned playfully. "And I promise to take them off after work."

His eyes burned and he said, "I'm going to hold you to that."

She grasped the lapel of his labcoat and gave it a tug. "You better."

He went to kiss her when the orderly returned with her patient's biopsy results. April ducked away from his face and patted his arm.

"I'll see you later, Jackson."

Shaking his head, he rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, "Tease."

April walked into the patient Martha's room to check on her, glancing down at the biopsy results casually. When she looked up, Martha was squirming in her bed, her monitor beeping wildly as her heartbeat soared. April rushed forward, scanning the monitor quickly before asking Martha what she was feeling.

"My stomach," Martha bit out. "It hurts." She moaned, dropping her head against the pillow. "God, it hurts."

The nurse returned and April said, "Page Bailey."

April stood outside, waiting for Bailey. A few minutes later Bailey walked in, a bit of mustard smeared beside her mouth.

"You interrupted my lunch, Kepner. This better be good."

"Martha Bowers is having severe stomach pain," April said, following Bailey into the patient's room. Bailey glanced at the monitor, noticing the abnormally low blood pressure.

"Alright, let's schedule a CT scan. Any progress on the IgC from earlier?"

"The lab's backed up today."

Bailey frowned. Her expression softened when she turned toward the patient. "Martha, we're going to get a scan of your abdomen take a look at what's going on inside there, okay?"

Martha nodded.

"You just hold tight. We're going to get you better."

April followed Bailey out of the room, glancing back at Martha. "Do you know what it is?"

"It could be any number of things. Appendicitis. Severe flu symptoms. I don't know. If I knew, we wouldn't be doing the CT scan, now would we? And shouldn't you be scheduling that right now?"

April nodded quickly. "Yes, Dr. Bailey. On my way now."

"Good. Now, I'm going to finish my lunch. Don't page me for anything stupid."

"I won't," April promised. She watched the diminutive attending walk away and wondered how a brief conversation with the woman could leave her absolutely winded.

"I saw someone's mother here yesterday," Mark said, grinning toward Jackson.

"Yes, the illustrious and ever irritating Catherine Avery was in town."

"How was that?"

"Long and tortuous," Jackson answered.

"Did she meet Kepner?"

"Yes," Jackson said, nodding. "They had met before, actually, but they went out for lunch. She liked April, which is difficult for me to comprehend. She hasn't liked one person I've dated."

Mark laughed. "And she liked Kepner?"

Jackson grinned and replied, "As spastic as she usually is, she was pretty good with my mom."

"Or your mom just saw how disgustingly happy you are," Mark suggested. When Jackson gave him a look he laughed and said, "What? I'm just pointing out the fact that you seem to be happy. Disgustingly so."

"Like you're one to talk," Jackson threw back. "You were humming during a surgery yesterday."

"It was a catchy song."

Jackson snorted. "It was Walking on Sunshine."

"Again, it was a catchy song."

"Or indicative of your current sunny disposition," Jackson returned.

"And what's wrong with having a sunny disposition?" Mark said. "Everyone in this hospital spends so much time being miserable. Don't you think we deserve a little happiness?"

"I hate to break it to you, Sloan, but you're tone deaf."

Mark laughed. "Yeah right."

"No, really. Your humming would make dogs cry."

"At the sheer beauty."

"At the toneless droning," Jackson corrected, laughing.

"Whatever," Mark said gruffly. "It's still pretty great, though, isn't it?"

"Isn't what?"

"Being happy."

Jackson smiled slightly and said, "Yeah. It is."

The CT scans of Martha Bowers showed severe pancreatitis, landing Bailey, April and Meredith in the OR to repair the damage of the pancreas. Bailey let Meredith take lead while April held the suction in place.

"Whatever this woman has, it is not pretty," Bailey said, overseeing Meredith's work. "Did any of you check on those lab results before this?"

"I did, Dr. Bailey," April said. "They still weren't available."

"This is just ridiculous," Bailey said. "How do they expect us to do our jobs, when they don't do theirs?"

"More suction," Meredith said.

"I couldn't give a flying hoot about back-ups," Bailey continued. "Not a flying hoot."

"Dr. Bailey," a nurse said, holding her hand to the OR phone. "Someone from the lab is on the phone."

"About time," she said. "Why don't one of you run down and get the results."

"They say they need to speak to me."

"Speak to me? I'm in the middle of a surgery!"

"Dr. Bailey, with all due respect I'm the one in the middle of a surgery," Meredith said. "You can take the phone call."

Bailey frowned and stepped away from the table, coming over to the nurse with the phone. The nurse held the phone to her ear and Bailey listened to the orderly.

"Dr. Bailey here," she said. April glanced up from the patient, becoming momentarily distracted by the look on Bailey's face as she listened to whatever was being said on the other end of the line. Meredith pulled her back to the procedure when she asked for more suction.

"Okay, that's good. Thank you," Meredith said.

Behind them, Bailey stepped away from the phone and told the nurse, "I need you to call Chief Hunt and tell him that we have a code yellow."

Meredith and April exchanged a look as the latter asked, "A code yellow, Dr. Bailey? What's a code yellow?"

Bailey rejoined them at the table, brown eyes pinched above the surgical mask. "It's for dangerous contagions. The lab just called to tell me that our patient has Marburg hemorrhagic fever."

"And that means?" Meredith asked.

"That means that we are being quarantined until further notice," Bailey said, shifting between her feet. "Now, let's finish up with this pancreas."

A/N: Any medical inaccuracies are entirely my own in this. I did do some research, but I'm sure there are some mistakes in there. Anyhoo, as you can probably guess this is part of an at least two chapter arc. Hope you enjoyed it! Next installment is up Friday!