A/N: It's been a llllooooonnnngggg time! Hope this was worth the wait!

Chapter 32

"So, I hear congratulations are in order," Callie said, stepping beside Mark in the pit and offering him a cappuccino. He smiled slightly and took the coffee form her, remarking, "Thanks. Is this congratulatory coffee?"

"You bet it is. It's not every morning I hear Mark Sloan manned up and put a ring on little Grey's finger."

"I can't tell if that's a compliment or not."

Callie laughed and said, "Alright, tell me everything. Did you do it in a really romantic way? Please tell me it was romantic."

"You want the truth, Torres?" he asked gruffly.

"Uh, yeah! What do you think I want? A made-up Mark Sloan story? No thank you, I've heard those and they're never that good. Come on, tell me how you proposed!"

"I didn't."

"Huh?"

"She did."

Callie gaped at him and murmured, "Please tell me you're joking."

"I'm not," Mark said. "And that, by the way, is all you get. It was a private moment between Lexie and I, and that is how it will stay."

Callie was silent for a moment, and then she said, "You really didn't propose?"

"I promise you, it was still a nice romantic moment."

"Did you at least get her a ring? Or are you going to let her take care of that, too?"

He gave her a look and said, "I gave her a ring."

"Okay, details please. God, this is like pulling teeth."

He grinned. "Yes, I gave her a ring."

"Did you guys go together and look or did you surprise her?"

"I surprised her," Mark said, thinking back to the moment in their apartment when he had pulled out the small black box from his pocket and flipped it open. It was only a few hours after their scene outside the hospital, and she had questioned how he had it already. Eyes never leaving hers, he admitted he bought it the first month they were together. He knew she was the one even then.

"Well, now I need to hunt her down and see this ring," Callie said. "And I need to start planning."

"For what?"

"For your engagement party. Duh."

"Callie, you don't have to-"

"Every good engagement deserves a good engagement party," Callie interrupted, the tone of her voice telling him that he was getting an engagement party whether he liked it or not.

"Fine," he relented. "Just don't make a big deal out of it."

"Of course not," Callie said, already thinking of tablescapes and menus. "It'll be small. You know, understated and all that."

Before he could question her further she dashed off.

Owen gathered the staff in one of the hospital's larger conference rooms and stood in front of the podium, feeling the familiar pull at the base of his stomach from standing in front of all these people. He had done things similar to this back when he was in the Army. He spoke in front of his men with the background music of bombs exploding. Now, that should have made him nervous, but it didn't. He had no problem standing out there in his gear and giving orders. Things were different when he was put in a suit and tie.

"Do you know what this is about?" Jackson asked Meredith, taking the seat next to her.

"Something about new hospital regulations," Meredith said. "That's all I've got."

"Maybe they're finally upgrading the cafeteria," Jackson suggested.

"Yeah, because Owen would hold a huge conference about cafeteria upgrades," Cristina added snidely from Meredith's other side.

"Do you have any ideas?" Jackson asked pointedly. "He is your husband, after all."

"What does that have to do with anything?" she returned.

"Alright, kids, play nice," Meredith said with a grin.

The microphone crackled on stage and Owen cleared his voice before beginning the presentation.

"Hello everyone. I'd like to thank you for cooperating and taking this time out of your schedule. The topic of today's presentation is one that you all probably think you're pretty knowledgeable on: hand washing."

"You've got to be kidding me," Jackson murmured. "This is about washing your hands? What are we, five?"

"Ssshh," Cristina said, although if she were being honest she had the same feeling. Owen hadn't told her about this, and she could see why.

"As you all know, hospitals are breeding grounds for germs and infections. These are infections that can worsen our patients conditions and even kill them. The most basic and effective way to combat this is to effectively wash your hands."

"I can't believe it," Meredith said. " This is actually a presentation on washing hands. I thought there'd be a different spin on it. But nope. Washing hands, it is."

"Maybe it'll get better," Cristina said, although she didn't hold much hope.

"Seattle Grace will be implementing monitors over all the sinks in examination rooms and ORs."

"This is the most ridiculous thing I've heard," Cristina murmured.

"Motion will trigger a camera which records who is washing their hands," Owen continued. "That image will be outsourced to a company that will monitor the hand washing and ensure that all of our staff is compliant with the national standards set out for cleanliness. I will also be appointing volunteer hand-washing coaches who will teach the interns how to effectively wash their hands. They will also serve as monitors for their peers, reporting back to me if they witness anyone doing less than what is expected of them."

A doctor in the back raised their hand and Owen said, "I guess I'll start taking questions. Yes?"

"Are you really proposing that the hospital goes and spends money to teach people how to do something as basic as washing their hands?"

"Yes," Owen answered levelly. "I am."

"And how much is the hospital going to shell out for that?"

Owen took a moment and said, "However much we have to. Last month we had fifty patients pick up infections that originated in the hospital. This month we've had twenty already, and it's not even half over. This is a real issue. The government agrees. They're withholding Medicare funding if a large percentage of patients contract preventable infections while at the hospital, and right now, this hospital is on the track to lose that funding. We need to change what we're doing, because clearly it isn't working."

Alex raised his hand and Owen nodded toward him. " Karev?"

"Do we get anything if we're on the hand washing–watch-team, or whatever."

Beside him Jackson snorted.

"So, how did you really get to wear salmon scrubs?" April asked, sitting with Addison in a coffee shop across from the women's clinic. They were grabbing a quick lunch before the afternoon rush started up again.

"You want to know the truth?" Addison asked, stirring her soup. April nodded, and the older redhead said, "They gave me the wrong ones."

"The wrong ones?"

Addison nodded. "Yeah. They ordered a bunch of scrubs for the residents, and I ended up with pink ones. They offered to get me new ones, but I sort of liked them. Made me stand out. So, I wore them during my residency, and they became my signature."

"You know, I wore salmon scrubs here once," April said. "I spilled coffee on my work clothes and Michael got me a pair."

"How'd it feel?"

April thought about that for a minute and grinned. "A hell of a lot better than blue scrubs."

"Exactly," Addison said, eating a spoonful of soup. "There's a power to salmon scrubs. They give you confidence and drive."

"And look really good with red hair," April added, taking a sip of her coffee.

Addison grinned. "That too. So, you're dating that Avery guy right?"

April nearly choked on her drink. She set it down and stammered, "Yeah. I...how did you know?"

"I have my connections at Seattle Grace," Addison said evasively. "Plus, Callie is there and bragged for weeks about how she got you two together."

"She…" April trailed off when she realized that was partially true. "Yeah, okay."

"I've heard he's Mark's new protégé."

"He is," April said. "He really likes plastics. He's good at it, too."

"What about you? Are you leaning toward obstetrics?"

"I like it," April said. To be honest, she'd been going more for general surgery before the Boards debacle happened, but now she'd take whatever she was given – and right now that was obstetrics.

"You show a real talent for it," Addison noted casually. "You know, I see a lot of myself in you, April."

"Thank you, Dr. Montgomery," April stammered.

"If you're serious about obstetrics, I can help you." Addison picked up her coffee and murmured, "Us girls have to stick together, after all."

Lexie had never been engaged before, but she decided that she liked it. She liked the attention and the pleasant weight of the ring on her finger. She enjoyed the well-wishes and that is was no longer fanciful to think of herself as Mrs. Sloane. But most of all, she liked the simple fact that they belonged to each other. Sure, they had before, but the ring made it official. It was an outward statement that she was his and he was hers. She didn't realize what a difference that would make.

"So, I should warn you," Mark began, stopping by her side at the circulation desk and kissing her cheek. "Callie knows and she is currently planning an engagement party that I'm sure will be big and full of people, and probably a fairly high level of ridiculous."

"Okay," she said simply, looking up at him.

"Okay? That's all you have to say?"

"Okay," Lexie repeated. "What's so bad about a party?"

"I thought we were going to keep this small," he said. "You know, no big pomp and circumstance. Unless you want pomp and circumstance. But I thought you didn't. That's what you told me."

"Look, I want to marry you," Lexie said reasonably. "So, whatever comes with that is what I want. If a big engagement party comes with that, then I want it. I want everything that comes with marrying you, Mark."

Mark grinned, shaking his head. "God, how did I end up with someone as wonderful as you?"

"It's a question we ask ourselves every day," Derek said from behind him. Mark laughed, turning toward his old friend. "Congratulations. Meredith and I are really happy for you two."

"Thanks, Derek."

"If you need any wedding advice…," Derek began, earning himself a boisterous laugh from Mark and a paltry attempt to cover one from Lexie.

"I think we're going to go the non-post-it-note route," Mark said. "But if we change our mind, we know where to go."

April walked out of her patient's room, Addison's words still playing over and over in her head. She had an opportunity to be mentored by one of the foremost neo-natal surgeons in the country. This was what she had been waiting for at Seattle Grace – what she had hoped for as each resident seemed to find an attending to take them under their wing except for her.

Maybe it just hadn't been the right time. Maybe Seattle Grace just hadn't been the right hospital. When she left there she thought that it was a step down. It was a move she had been reluctant to make, and she had subsequently viewed her time at the Women's Clinic as a way to bide time. She'd pass her boards and then she'd go back to Seattle Grace. That was the plan, but she was beginning to question its validity.

She was done for the day and headed to Joe's where she was meeting Jackson for a drink. He was already there, about halfway through his beer. She sat next to him and he gave her a quick kiss.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Interesting," she said.

Jackson raised his eyebrows and asked, "Good or bad interesting?"

"Good, I think," April said. "Dr. Montgomery offered to be my mentor."

"She did?"

April nodded, grabbing his beer and taking a sip. Joe walked by and Jackson ordered her a whiskey ginger.

"She said that I showed real potential in obstetrics. She even said she saw a lot of herself in me. Can you believe that? Addision-freaking-Montgomery, neonatal surgery extraordinaire, sees herself in me."

"That's because you are amazing," Jackson said, covering her hand with his. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," April said. "I always thought I was going to be a general surgeon. Since med school, that's what I've been working toward. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe that wasn't the right path for me."

"It can't hurt to give it a try," Jackson suggested. "Montgomery is definitely the best you could learn from."

April nodded, flashing Joe a smile when he placed her drink in front of her. She took a sip and then asked, "So, how was your day? Anything exciting?"

Jackson took a long drag of his beer and then said, "Well, I learned how to wash my hands."

Izzie laid in the dark on-call room, eyes closed as she leaned her head back against the wall. Even in the darkness her head throbbed, and she thought unhappily about the procedure she had in an hour. The door opened and she winced as the brightness from the hallways flooded in through the open doorway.

"Sorry," Alex said, already backing out of the doorway. "I didn't see you there."

"No, it's fine," Izzie said wearily, sitting up. "Stay, please."

"Weren't you trying to rest?"

"Try is the operative word," Izzie said, attempting for levity. She came a few feet short. "I shouldn't be falling asleep now, anyway. I have a procedure in an hour. Need to be nice and alert."

"You okay?" Alex asked, watching her rub at her eyes.

"Yeah, just a headache," Izzie said. "I skipped my coffee this morning because I was in a hurry. Not the best idea."

Alex nodded. "Caffeine headaches are a bitch. Want me to get you some coffee?"

She shook her head. "No, I'll just grab one on my way to the oncology wing. So, you going to be one of Dr. Hunt's hand-washing monitors?"

Alex snorted. "Not a chance. The entire thing's a bunch of bol, if you ask me."

"He means well," Izzie said. "But, I kind of agree. It's crap."

"Can you imagine being that guy in India or wherever that has to sit and just watch us wash our hands," Alex said, shaking his head. "You couldn't pay me to take that job."

Izzie smirked. "Me neither. But someone has to do it, I guess."

Alex's beeper went off and he looked down at his waist, checking the message.

"I gotta go," he said. "It's Robbins with a consult. But, uh, I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah," Izzie said, nodding. "I'll see you later."

He rushed out of the room and Izzie sat back down on the bed heavily, wiping at her eyes again. She sat there for another moment before standing up and walking out of the room to get some coffee. It was then that she saw him. He was standing over by the circulation desk, unnaturally still amongst the movement of the hospital. George O'Malley, looking just as sweet and boyish as he had the last time she'd seen him five years prior.

"Go away," she whispered softly. "Please. Please, go away."

She blinked and he was gone, seemingly heeding her plea, but she knew it wasn't that simple. It never was.

A/N: So, some fluff, some plot development. Lots of Grey's! Let me know your thoughts :)